Flight 753: 176 souls lost … 63 Canadians and many Iranian students returning to Canada to continue their post-graduate studies along with grandparents, parents, children, siblings, plane crew. So much loss.
In the midst of global tragedy where fires in Australia have re-ignited and people are being told once again to evacuate; the United States has added new sanctions against Iran; Puerto Rico has had another earthquake today while still trying to recover from the hurricane forcing people to sleep in the streets … it may look to some as if the end of the world is coming to pass but … it is not.
Modern communication not only means that news of such tragedies can be shared almost immediately they have happened, it means that news networks can have their journalists/reporters comment almost ad nauseum, leaving little room for people to grasp what is happening.
What is happening is not the end of the world – it is life in a world that is in chaos. We must all take a moment (or several) to breathe … and then breathe again.
May the souls of all who have perished in all of these tragedies rest, and may the hearts and minds of those who grieve their loss be comforted by the outpouring of love and concern, prayers and practical assistance.
And may this little daffodil be a reminder that even in the midst of the brutality of a cold winter … even in the midst of death, there is life – and with life, there is hope.
The clothing rod in the bedroom gave way last week and the clothes had to be removed from the rod. My DH, Hans, had used that rod for his shirts, but when he died, and I donated his clothing, I moved my sweaters, jackets and slacks to that rod. But they were too heavy for just that one rod support. So I went to Home Hardware and bought two new rod supports and accompanying plates. And here’s where the fun began.
First, I tried to find a stud. No luck. Then I found a stud. I tried to put screws in the rod support plate. No luck. The arthritis wouldn’t let me tighten the screws all the way into the stud.
When I borrowed an electric drill to screw them in, I quickly discovered that I’d screwed the support plate in … backwards.
After figuring out what to push on the electric drill, I reversed the screws, got them out of the wall and put the support plate in the proper way. Success! Sort of …
I couldn’t figure out why, but the plate and hanger don’t want to work together. So I went into Hans’ workshop to find his hammer to pound it in. I knew he had a couple of hammers, but darned if I could find even one. But I knew I had a hammer in the Studio that I use for crafts and got that. Hans always chuckled at it because it was so tiny, delicate … and useless.
I am calm. I am a handywoman. Nope. Not. Even. Close.
This week I will head back to Home Hardware and ask “What did I do wrong?”
I am calm. I *will* be a handywoman. It’s just not happened … yet.
Sweet little bee, so industrious, so intense. You didn’t see me get oh, so close. I waited, holding my breath, expecting you to fly away but you didn’t. I took your picture and you kept on working, burrowing your head and once again I was in awe. Creation. God. Beauty. Wonder. Holiness encapsulated in a busy bee.
Grateful. I am grateful there are still bees. Bees being busy. Bees “doing their thing.” May humanity recognize the importance of keeping this planet safe for you and for themselves. May you always be here “doing your thing,” busy bee.
A prayer … this night and every night.
can be prayed … for others (we)
can be prayed … for self (replace ‘we’ for ‘I’)
This night
and every night
may we be blessed.
May we be blessed with
a healing night of sleep
a release from pain
a gentle respite from worry and fear about possibilities of nuclear war blessed with a peace that passes understanding.
May we be blessed by Grace that surrounds, undergirds and infills.
When we awake
may we be mindful of Love that envelopes
casting out fear
fear of the known
and fear of the unknown.
This night and every night
may we be blessed.
Amen.
The haunting “what if” questions about the past “What if …” … Mother Nature hadn’t unleashed such fury … ‘xyz’ hadn’t been done or said … the stock market hadn’t plummeted … the relationship hadn’t gone sour … an election hadn’t turned out the way it did … the accident hadn’t happened … a loved one hadn’t become so ill or died can bring about distress, anxiety, fear, depression, anger, self-blame, guilt, and cause our heart to beat irregularly.
We so often forget that what has passed, has passed and cannot be undone.
The pondering “What if” questions of the future “What if I …“ … journey down path ‘A’ instead of path ‘B’? … say yes to an invitation extended my way? … take the risk and explore a new line of work, vocation, interest? … join a group, take a course? … make time to ‘be still’ and consider the gifts within me? … pick up the phone and call someone who is hurting? … reach out in love to myself as well as to God and my neighbour? … vote? … help others to get out and vote? … stand up, speak out, get involved in my community? can lead us to discover hope, challenge, and the joy of soul-enriching possibilities.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could keep in mind that what lies ahead has yet to unfold and *can* be done. May we walk down the Path Of Can Be Done.
this night may the Creator of this sweet flower bending in the gentle breeze bless all who are … living in fear because of Hurricane Dorian … experiencing hurt by their church … terrified by predictions of climate change … living with chronic illness … dealing with financial uncertainty … awaiting word from the doctor … hungry, hungry, hungry … on their way to the ER … unable to sleep … experiencing grief … facing an unknown tomorrow … dealing with chronic pain … have no place to live … living in fear of extradition
somehow sense they are loved
somehow sense some one, some where, this night is praying, hoping, envisioning a better night than was last night
The leaves are beginning to fall to the ground and slowly are beginning to change colour. It’s almost Autumn/Fall in this part of the world. It’s a beautiful time and a gentle reminder of the Seasons of Life for both vegetation … and human beings.
Like the four seasons of Nature, human beings also have four seasons and each Season of Life has its own beauty.
For those of us in the Autumn/Fall Season of our lives, there are times when we feel alive and vibrant in our body, mind and spirit. There are other times when we recognize the withering of skin, the creaking of bones, the aching of muscles, the forgetfulness that often comes with the aging process.
We don’t want to ‘ignore’ the signs that we are aging. And we don’t want to ‘focus solely’ on these signs. We want balance in our lives. So how can we achieve that balance between focusing only on the signs and ignoring the signs? Perhaps we could let trees be our teacher.
When leaves of a tree change colour, some leaves remain their original colour. When we see our skin texture change, the twinkle that has always been in our eye, still remains.
When leaves begin to fall, not all leaves fall at the same time. When we find it difficult to rise from a chair or sofa, the stiffness we feel usually doesn’t remain with us for the rest of the day.
Trees can offer wonderful advice as this unknown author noted: “Stand tall and proud. Go out on a limb. Drink plenty of water. Remember your roots. Be content with your natural beauty. Enjoy the view.”
STAND TALL AND PROUD May each of us “stand tall and proud” – keeping good posture and acknowledging the strengths we bring.
GO OUT ON A LIMB May we remember to “go out on a limb” – speak up, speak out, for what we believe.
DRINK PLENTY OF WATER May we keep hydrated with plenty of clean water, as well as hydrate our mind by being open to opportunities for personal growth.
REMEMBER YOUR ROOTS May we remember our roots and the lessons our family tree have taught (good or bad), for there is learning in both positive and negative experiences.
BE CONTENT WITH YOUR NATURAL BEAUTY May we find acceptance and contentment in who and Whose we are.
ENJOY THE VIEW May we fully enjoy the view of this world … taking in its beauty, learning from its ugliness, being resolute in our determination to make a difference in some small way.
Thank you trees, for mentoring us in the aging process.
Once upon a time … there was a cat. She was abandoned. Pregnant. Again. Unloved. Unwanted.
She had no name. Her owners didn’t want to pay to have her spayed. They dropped her off at the SPCA without any information about her age or medical situation. And then I met her.
She’d just had her last kitten taken from her that morning. In a week’s time, after her milk dried up, she would be put up for adoption by the SPCA.
I gently put my hand in her cage. Let it sit there so she could get my scent. Immediately, she began to nuzzle my hand. And purred. And purred. And purred. The SPCA worker said “She’s chosen you, you know.” And so she had.
No surprise what happened next … I adopted her. Sweet, 2 1/2 year old tabby cat, she had no name. What I knew of her life was sparse. I knew that her before-life-with-me had not been easy. I knew that she needed serenity in her life. I named her Serenity.
Gentle and serene, mischievous and playful, coy and curious, determined to go outside (I, just as determined that she would not), she has incredible agility. She makes me smile and laugh and talk out loud to her and even sing to her! My love for Serenity grew. And it grew quickly.
It didn’t take long for Serenity to adjust to her new surroundings. It didn’t take long for the two of us to adjust to one another because when love enters a relationship adjustment quickly happens.
But … so did my allergic reactions to her quickly happen.
When I adopted her, I knew allergic responses could be a possibility, even though I’d been getting monthly allergy inoculations for more than five years. The allergist said “You might be able to have a cat now, but the only way to see if you can have a cat is to get a cat.”
When Serenity came home with me, I tried to ignore the allergic symptoms and did what I could to counteract them: replaced the old vacuum, purchased an air purifier, kept her out of my bedroom.
But the symptoms didn’t go away. My throat itched. My eyes were watery. My chest/lungs became congested. I coughed more and more in spite of the allergy shots, antihistamines, oh-so-clean house and circulating air in the house. The symptoms remained. But my love for Serenity did not wane.
That love seemed to grow, day by day. And with each passing day, I knew that my love for her would continue to grow deeper and deeper as time passed as I would become more and more attached to her and she would become more and more attached to me.
I was right. We bonded very quickly.
As the allergic symptoms increased, I realized that I had to find another home for her, and sooner than later, because of how quickly we had bonded.
Perhaps, in another couple of years, the allergy shots will have “done their thing” or scientists will have finished their testing on a substance that can be added to cats’ food and remove allergic symptoms for human beings and allergic responses won’t become a barrier to having a cat. When that happens, I will adopt again. But that is in the future. Serenity was here now.
The question remained: “Where could Serenity go where she would be loved and cared for as much as she is here with me?” I checked with my son and DIL. Both animal lovers, they have a dog and a cat (Pepper), but since Pepper’s sibling died, Pepper has had moments of aggression. They were concerned for Serenity’s well-being. They wanted to take her, but …
So I kept praying. I kept thinking about possibilities.
And then, an unexpected email arrived came from a FB friend. “It’s been lovely to follow Serenity’s settling with you, and I’m so sad that your allergies are potentially a barrier to a comfortable life together … You said that your family weren’t able to take Serenity. If you feel that you need to re-home her, keep me in mind … It’s a hard decision, I know!”
Understatement! But, I knew that I did need to re-home Serenity. I wrote my friend. She wrote back. We exchanged photos. We continued to email.
In my heart of hearts, I knew that re-homing her was the best solution to my allergic response to her … not only would she be loved, but she would have a playmate, Scout, who has been grieving the loss of his playmate since March. And so the decision was made and a date was set for Serenity and her new mom, Brigid, to meet. August 7th was the day. Today.
Early this morning, I skipped my time at the pool and stayed home to play with Serenity. And play we did! It was such fun! And then it was time to say farewell.
Her new mom, Brigid, arrived. She spent some time with Serenity, we had a visit and shared tea together – and then it as time for them to leave if they were to catch the next ferry to the Mainland.
When Serenity left, her Cat Tree went with her. How she loved it – playing, scratching, sleeping and cavorting with her catnip mouse and colourful ribbon wand. It was a very long car ride and when Brigid wrote to say that they were home and that Serenity spent most of the car ride “sitting happily on her cat-tree,” I was so happy that I’d asked Brigid if she could take Serenity’s Tree. After Serenity and Brigid left, I went back into the house. The house was so quiet and empty. It was too difficult to be there, so I turned around and went out to do errands. And then I came home again … to the oh-so-empty house.
Grief is real. And it hurts. But this I know: Serenity’s soon-to-be-playmate and Serenity’s new mom will bless Serenity’s life. This I also know – Serenity will bless their lives. And knowing both of these things helps my sadness … a little.
Go with my love, dear Serenity. You have brought so much joy and so many blessings into my life in such a short time. To say how much I miss you … words fail.
I like words.
I like the way they sound.
I like what I learn when I research their origin.
And I like how my heart and mind respond as I reflect on words
… like this word: susurrus.
I find it to be a delicious word.
It means ‘a whispering, hum or gentle rustling sound’
and is often represented by a feather.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to experience a susurrus
… a whispering of “hang in there”
… a feather of “hope is on its way”
… a hum of “you are not alone.”
When I think of people dealing with
actions of terrorists
undergoing surgery
living with pain
dying
being tortured
separation from loved ones
abusive situations
in fear of their lives
addiction, mental illness, grief
fear about the future of Planet Earth because of climate change
struggling to understand how their government leader can be anything but a leader of compassion, generosity of spirit, respect
my spirit groans.
To each of those people, known and unknown
may they receive this night
a susurrus of respite from the distress;
a whisper, a hum, a feather of hope and healing
that will lighten burdens, reduce fear, eliminate a sense of hopelessness.
Are you in the mood for a lovely bed-time (or anytime) story? I am. And here it comes. 🙂
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who, with her parents, had been to the local SPCA at least five times in the past month. The volunteer asked “What is it she keeps looking for?”
“Puppy size!” replied the mother
“Well, we have plenty of puppies, if that’s what she’s looking for.”
“We have seen most of them, ‘ the mom said in frustration. Just then, the little girl came walking into the office. “Did you find one?” asked her mom.
“No, not this time,” replied the little girl with sadness in her voice. “Can we come back on the weekend?” The two women looked at each other, shook their heads and laughed and the volunteer said – “You never know when we will get more dogs. Unfortunately, there’s always a supply.”
The little girl took her mother by the hand and headed to the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll find one this weekend,” she said.
Over the next few days, both Mom and Dad had long conversations with her. They both felt she was being too particular. “It’s this weekend or we’re not looking any more,” Dad finally said in frustration.”
“We don’t want to hear anything more about puppy size, either,” Mom added. Sure enough, they were the first ones in the shelter on Saturday morning. By now, the little girl knew her way around, so she ran right for the section that housed the smaller dogs. Tired of the routine, her mom sat in the small waiting room at the end of the first row of cages. There was an observation window so the animals could be seen during times when visitors weren’t permitted inside.
The little girl walked slowly from cage to cage, kneeling periodically to take a closer look. One by one the dogs were brought out and she held each one. One by one she said, “Sorry, but you’re not the one.”
It was the last cage on this last day in search of the perfect pup. The volunteer opened the cage door and the child carefully picked up the dog and held it closely. This time she took a little longer. “Mom, this i’s it! I found the right puppy! He’s the one! I know it!” she screamed with joy. “It’s the puppy size!?
:But it’s the same size as all the other puppies you held over the last few weeks,” her mom said.
“No, not size… the sighs. When I held him in my arms, he sighed,” she said.
“Don’t you remember? When I asked you one day what love is, you told me love depends on the sighs of your heart. The more you love, the bigger the sigh!”
The two women looked at each other for a moment. Mom didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. As she stooped down to hug the child, she did a little of both.
“Mom, every time you hold me, I sigh. When you and Daddy come home from work and hug each other, you both sigh. I knew I would find the right puppy if it sighed when I held it in my arms,” she said.
Then, holding the puppy up close to her face, she said, “Mom, he loves me. I heard the sighs of his heart!”
And with that, the little girl and her mom completed the paperwork and the three of them left and went home.
The End.
**************************** And now – a suggestion — how about closing your eyes for a moment and thinking about the love that has made, makes, you sigh … perhaps it’s in arms of loved ones, in the caress of a sunset, the kiss of the moonlight, the gentle brush of cool air on a hot day, the whisper of a child or beloved pet, snuggling close to you, the warm bath waters at night soaking away the aches and pains so you can rest a bit better at night?
Perhaps those moments are the love-sighs of God.
May we take the time to stop and listen, for we may be surprised at what we hear, for “Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” <Helen Steiner Rice>
May our lives be filled with love-sighs. Lots of them – in unexpected ways. 🙂 June Maffin
****************************
This particular Soulistry blog post is based on “Puppy Size” (author: unknown). Puppy Photo (photographer: unknown)
“How do I return the joy you’ve given me?” That question stopped me in my tracks. I had no idea that anything I had done or said had brought my friend ‘joy.’
The question kept repeating in my head and had me thinking about the essence of joy … the ‘who, what, why, when, where, how’ of it:
… what is joy?
… who receives joy?
… when do people receive joy?
… where does joy come from?
… why isn’t joy experienced all the time?
… how does joy appear?
For many, joy seems to be elusive. Personal hardship and circumstances, political corruption and moral malfeasance seem to be draining joy from souls.
While joy may seem to be elusive, it doesn’t need to disappear.
Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, said that “joy is the simplest form of gratitude.” When I am focused on what is missing, when I center-in on what frustrates or angers or hurts me, I am less able to see the whole picture and less able to experience the joy in what I see, smell, taste, touch, experience, feel.
A smile from a stranger, brings joy.
A group of flowers, a solitary flower, brings joy.
A kind word or act, brings joy.
Sounds, sights, smells, tastes, touches – can bring me joy and arouse my sense of joy
– the sound of … children at play, a kitten’s purr, music
– the smell of … fresh bread coming out of the oven, lemon-anything, a baby fresh from the bath, a sprig of lavender, oil paint-about-to-go-on-canvas
– the taste of … a hot fudge sundae, turkey dinner, hot chocolate on a cold/rainy day, peaches-and-cream corn on the cob
– the gentle touch of … a comforting hand when in pain, a loving partner’s embrace, a heartfelt “I missed you” hug
– the sight of … home, smiles, colour anywhere, my son, art in all its expressions, libraries with books to read, mountains and oceans and fields of flowers and skies and landscapes and …
And then there are the ‘take-for-granted’ joys … until they are no longer with us: breath, mobility, speech, communication, senses, health, memory, family, friends.
Well-known for his work in comparative mythology and religion, Joseph Campbell encouraged people to “find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.”
May we “burn out the pain” of personal and societal stresses and “find a place inside where there’s joy.”
May we be open to joy’s transformation of common days into daily thanksgivings, routine jobs into privileges, and ordinary opportunities into extraordinary blessings.
How many of us live perfect lives? … lives that are free from stress, devoid of unpleasantness? … lives without people who are disrespectful, hateful, sarcastic, prejudiced? … lives without experiencing fear … of anything … anyone … any situation? … lives without a disability of some kind be that physical, intellectual, emotional, spiritual?
Not one of us.
We all stumble at one time or another.
Hopefully, when we do (in spite of whatever hurdles, barriers, curveballs life, weather, people, or heredity sends our way), we will do so as part of the dance of life, remembering that science has proven that dancing is good for the body, good for the mind, good for the soul.
When we stumble, may we make it part of our dance of life.
There they were: cuddled together in the strawberry patch in the back yard. One, ripe and ready to eat; two, on their way to ripehood.
Thinking about it all, I realize why I was so struck by seeing the three strawberries together like that.
They were a gentle reminder of the Creator and Mother Nature’s beauty and bounty … all happening in my back yard!
Miracle.
Some days, the yuck and pain of our lives and the world can seem to be so overwhelming that we forget to look – down … up … sideways … beside us … behind us … in front of us – expect to see a sign of the Creator – expect to see and experience a miracle.
When we forget to do that looking, we can miss seeing and experiencing three strawberries as much more than three little pieces of fruit.
Just three strawberries. Three, simple, easily-missed-seeing, expressions of beauty and bounty and blessing.
Ahhh, I can hear my brain beginning to make links to ‘other *three’s* … links to the Trinity … links to …
But I’m going to restrain myself and instead, go outside and look around, up, down, beside me, in front of me, behind me and expect to see a sign of the Creator … expect to see and experience a miracle.
I know I won’t be disappointed.
While the definition of ‘miracle’ is subjective (and perhaps the catalyst for another Soulistry blog posting), this night I’m simply going to enjoy these three beauties from Nature’s bounty and be grateful for the beauty and bounty and blessing – and miracle – that is in my garden.
“Words, words, I’m so sick of words” sang Julie Andrews in ‘My Fair Lady’.
There are times when I’m sick of words too … words that people use to explain their lies … words used to defend indefensible positions … words that belittle – abuse – mock – harass – demean – bully – disrespect.
Author, theologian and priest, Matthew Fox, noted that “silence gives way for Spirit to arrive.” I like that – a lot.
International calligrapher, Alice Young, beautifully rendered Fox’s words and I was led to ponder a possibility – a challenge – a hope – a prayer: that each of us would turn off our tv, computer, radio, iphone, ipad, etc. for one hour each day, for the next three days and, in that one hour, we would not be involved in any conversation by … text … email … social media … phone … or in person.
What would we do?
We would “do” nothing. We would simply “be” … be present to the still, small Voice within … be present to the sounds of Nature’s joy … be present to the silence
In so doing, we would give space for Spirit to arrive and maybe, just maybe, … truth would emerge … reason would surface … healing might begin.
So much stress! Too many distractions! Much too much to do each day! Traffic! No parking spaces! Noise, noise, noise. Busy, busy, busy. Does any of this sound familiar??
For many people these days, it does. Their lives seem filled with things to do, people to visit, work to complete, shopping to finish, meals to make, chores to accomplish, errands to run. People speak quickly. Eat their meals quickly. Walk quickly. Breathe quickly.
How often each day are the flowers that are poking their heads into view, noticed? the laughter of the children at play, delighted in? the spider weaving its intricate web, admired?
Or does rushing through each moment of each day, until bedtime arrives, and you find yourself exhausted, better describe your day?
“I want some peace” some whisper (or shout!). And yet they seldom pause long enough to experience that peace … seldom relax so that their shoulders aren’t scrunched up in tension … seldom listen to the breath they breathe … seldom experience the peace that comes when they open themselves to be “still” and receive the Holy One’s precious peace … seldom receive that inner strength that helps them cope with the busyness of life and be humbled by the gift of life given by the great Giver of All Life.
If you are willing to receive a glimpse of that “peace that passes all understanding”, a suggestion … take a moment – right now – to close your eyes. And here’s how:
Take a deep, deep breath. Slowly breathe in and out, in and out, inviting the Giver of Peace into your life. As you breathe in, you might say smoething like “Giver of Peace, I receive your peace.” As you exhale, you might say something like “I release all that causes my body, mind, spirit to be uneasy, distressed, anxious etc.
As you do this, receive that gift of peace within your body, mind and spirit – easing the tensions, relieving the pain, quietening the dis-ease within your soul.
When you find yourself more at peace, give thanks, for you have been in the presence of the Holy.
And, when the daily stressors of life next affect your ability to function, to laugh, to enjoy life, to ‘be with’ others, to notice the miracles of life around you … remember to take a deep breath, invite the Giver of All Peace into your body, mind and spirit and receive that precious “peace that passes all understanding” – as gift.
Born Doris Mary Ann Von Kappelhoff, she became Hollywood legend Doris Day. Her movies (like Pillow Talk), her singing “Que Sera, Sera” and her love of, and involvement with, animal rights endeared her to millions who this day, mourn her passing.
In spite of a life which was very difficult, you brightened this world with your singing, dancing & sweet smile. Thank you. Rest in peace, Doris. Rest in peace.
Today is the last day of Passover. Today is the first day of Easter for Christians in the East, and day six of the Season of Easter in the West. Pesach (Passover) for Jewish adherents is about liberation from slavery in ancient Egypt. Easter for Christians is about new life.
Today, there is cause for neither liberation nor new life. Instead, a crime was committed at Congregation Chabad Synagogue in the town of Poway, California. Deemed to be a ‘hate’ crime, one person died and three were injured. And the question continues to be asked … when will laws happen which will make possession of assault weapons by civilians illegal?
Grief overwhelms the people of Congregation Chabad Synagogue, the people of Poway and the families affected by this senseless violence. Thoughts and prayers? Yes, I am thinking of them and all for whom this situation raises a bitter and painful personal memory of their own.
Yes, I will offer prayers … prayers of consolation and support for the victims and their families as they grieve … and prayers for the politicians who can change laws so that no other hate crimes, terrorist crimes, mass shootings, individual drive-by shootings using assault weapons will happen.
Politicians – you can change the laws so such murders don’t ever happen again. Why aren’t you? What can’t you understand, politicians?
Australian calligraphy artist Gemma Black was recently in western Canada teaching a variety of workshops, including one named Art Deco. I first learned about it a couple of years ago and wanted to take it soooo much. I talked about it with the local calligraphy guild’s workshop co-ordinator and wonder of wonders, she and Gemma chatted, the workshop was booked and I registered. I was a very happy puppy! And then, one of those health “blips on the screen of life” happened and I had to withdraw. I was no longer a happy puppy.
One afternoon, feeling very sorry for myself <silly me!>, I decided to surf the net and see what I could find about art deco. I didn’t find very much but decided to play around with some watercolours with what I did find, only to realize that my fingers weren’t very steady with a brush any more. I was going to stop and then had a good talk with myself and continued on.
The result – in carrying on with the project, I learned some things I’d learned a long time ago, but somehow had forgotten. Simple lesson, really – never stop playing!
As the watercolour went on the Arches Text Wove paper and then the card was mounted on red, then white, then red cardstock and a birthday card for a special friend evolved. If you are dealing with physical pain, let me be the first one to encourage you to find something creative to do within your range of physical abilities and dexterity … make a card, bake a cake, make paper beads, write a letter to someone, play with watercolour … whatever! And oh yes, while I was creating, I not only experienced the pain less intense for a bit, but a peace, deep within.
Ahhhh, Soulistry’s combination of creativity + spirituality rises to the surface. Again. 🙂
