* Mindfullness

Allow me to share my flowers with you.  Aren't they gorgeous?  Yesterday my errand run took me past Safeway, where my car turned in, totally on it's own.  Safeway in Victoria offers one dozen long stemmed roses for $14.99.  Once in awhile I splurge.  They are 'soul food', as are all flowers. Roses are special.  Symbolic.  A gift of love to myself, reaffirming I am in fact moving forward, I am in fact loving myself, appreciating who I am, knowing I am of value, and acknowledging my gifts.  That's what it's all about when we send roses to others isn't it??

These roses are a little 'nudge' for me to remain mindful.  To acknowledge the unique child of the Universe that I am.  I will focus on that this week.  It may seem selfish to some that I would be mindful of my unique gifts, however, I find when I am 'flying solo', it's important to support and nurture myself in this way.  No one else is near to to fill these roles.

We are, of course, all unique children of the Universe, God, Goddess, All That Is, Allah, Buddha, (however you wish to think of it).  There is no one in the world quite like us.  We are all here for a purpose, and without each of us, in the here and now, the entire world would not function in quite the same fashion. (the ripple affect) This week it would be lovely for each of us to be mindful of our own unique gifts, and give thanks for simply having the privilege of being on this planet during these magnificent and challenging times of change.



"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."  ~ Anais Nin

                                                        WHAT MAKES MY HEART SING?



Old doors and windows!!  They attract me, invite me, call me, lure me and tempt me.  I become curious.  They stimulate my imagination. What's inside?  Who lives there?  Whose lives are they protecting.  Who are they making a safe haven for?  What secrets to they hold?  I could write stories about doors and windows.  I could paint doors and windows.  Doors and windows have character.  They can be shy, bold, meek, in your face, ooze history, seem neglected and lonely, or be just plain beautiful.  Old doors and windows make my heart sing!