Sonee Singh's Blog, page 2

The Box, Chapter 5

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

This is Chapter 5.

The Battery, Charleston, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Naina heard a knock on the door the next morning. It was Thursday. She froze in place. No one other than her landlady knocked on her door, and the landlady only did that after checking with Naina that she could come by. Naina wanted to make sure the knock was not on her neighbor’s door. She waited and sure enough, it came again. It was definitely on her door.

She enjoyed living in her apartment. She spent hours staring at the exposed brick wall and hardwood floors that had been there since the mid-1800s. When the building was converted into apartments in 2008, the owners kept the exposed piping in the high ceilings. It made her one-bedroom apartment feel spacious. She loved living there even more when they installed a double-stacked washer and dryer in the unit. She cherished no longer having to spend time going back and forth to check on her laundry or washing her clothes in the same machines as the other tenants.

At that moment, she hated that her door didn’t have a peephole and she couldn’t see who was knocking. She opened the door slowly, peering with one eye before committing to engage.

“Hey, there neighbor. Remember me? We met yesterday.” It was Raiya. He smiled.

Naina was unsure of what to do.

“Hi,” Raiya said.

“Hi,” Naina said back. Again, she waited.

“Can I come in?”

“Oh.” Naina weighed her options. The last time she had visitors was soon after she moved in. Her father and stepmother didn’t stay with her. They stayed at the Belmond Charleston Place and walked over to see her place before they took her out to dinner at Halls Chophouse. They did not come back to see her again. Nor did anyone else.

“Can I borrow some milk?” Raiya asked.

“Will you give it back?”

“I can bring you some back when I go shopping next.”

“Ok.” She walked towards the fridge and was surprised Raiya followed her.

“I thought you said you lived here for a long time? This looks so bare…” Raiya looked around.

“I don’t like to own a lot of things.”

“How come? Do you travel often?”

“I don’t like to travel. The last time I got on a plane was four years ago.”

“Oh. I love to travel. I did e-commerce for a hotel company in New York City and I was on the road constantly. Since joining the start-up here, I haven’t gone anywhere. I miss it. But then again, it’s my first time in Charleston and I am eager to explore. It’s a challenge because I don’t have a car.”

“Neither do I.” Naina didn’t like that Raiya picked up the Special K and read the ingredient list. Or that he helped himself to the milk before Naina got a chance to hand it to him. He was clearly in shape, with defined arm muscle protruding through his fitted white T-shirt.

Raiya looked at Naina as if waiting for an answer.

“I like to know that I can leave. I don’t actually have to do it,” she offered.

“That’s odd. Are you on the run or something?” He chuckled.

“I’m not on the run. I like to be ready for anything. Life can change at a moment’s notice.”

“Huh…Right…So…I’ve been dying to try 167 Raw. Want to go with me? Maybe Friday after work?”

“I work until 5 pm,” Naina said, hoping it would deter him. She didn’t want him to think she was into him. If he was into her, she didn’t know how she would handle it.

Naina had never been on a date before. She didn’t have anyone to go to for advice. Alice was too patronizing. What would she wear? She always wore black slacks and a white button blouse during the colder days and a black sleeveless dress that fell right below the knees for the warmer days. She had five of each, one for each day of the week. On weekends, she wore black yoga pants and a white t-shirt.

“Great. Let’s meet back here after. We can walk over together.”

Just like that Raiya walked out of her apartment with a cup of milk and a promise to meet on Friday.

Watch or listen along below:

The Box, Chapter 4

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

This is Chapter 4.

House South of Broad, Charleston, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Naina walked to the Charleston County Public Library on Calhoun Street after work with the crystal sphere in her purse. That Tuesday evening, August 6, it took her ten minutes and thirty-three seconds to walk over. She knew the streets of downtown like the back of her hand, and she often counted either the steps or the time it took her to get from one place to another. Naina created personal challenges to entertain herself, slowing down or quickening her pace to ensure she reached in a predetermined time or number of steps.

She often spent her evenings at the library. It was quiet. She didn’t mind the homeless who hid in cool comfort from the sticky heat, or the bow-tie-wearing older gentleman sporting a walking stick who jetted in on his golf cart to read the day’s edition of the Wall Street Journal. People there kept to themselves. It suited her.

Naina stayed until closing at 8 pm that evening as she did every time she went to the library. But other than that, she didn’t do as she usually did. She didn’t look for the latest romance from Nora Roberts or In Death series published under the pseudonym of J. D. Robb. She didn’t hide the book she was reading in between the stacks such that she could find them when she came back. Naina didn’t take any books home. She didn’t want to bring the germs in.

That evening, she needed to learn about crystals. She found The Crystal Bible by Judy Hall and compared her crystal to all the images in the book. The only two blue and white crystals depicted were an angelite and a blue lace agate. Then she compared it to all the crystals in Crystal 365 by Heather Askinosie, indicating her crystal was an angelite.

She felt a tinge of excitement to learn that angelite was found in India, amongst other places. Angelite facilitated having a connection with the angels. She looked around her but saw no angels. The crystal could bring a sense of peace and help to heal from pain.

Naina learned that spherical crystals increased self-awareness and integrated the mind, body, and spirit. They were used as windows to the past or the future. Naina stared at the ball hoping to see something. Beyond its opaqueness, there was nothing. Orbs were signs that spirits were trying to interact with you and helped people feel they weren’t alone. She looked around again and there was still no one around her.

The next evening after work, instead of going to the library, she braved the evening King Street crowds and walked to Cornerstone Minerals to confirm that the sphere was an angelite. They did. On her way back, she stopped by the Earthbound Trading Company for a final confirmation.

While she cooled off under the ceiling fan in her apartment, she stared at the sphere, hoping for it to speak to her or bring about that sense of peace and connection to the divine it promised. Maybe that was the change she longed for. Alice told her she would feel differently once she turned thirty. Apparently, everyone did. Naina thought maybe that would help fill the emptiness of her life.

Magic happened around her. Not to her. Others lived in happiness and togetherness. Others had families and friends. That is what Naina considered to be magical—those things that most people seemed to have so easily. Maybe the crystal would come alive when she wasn’t paying attention, or when she wasn’t around. She stared at it some more. She held it in her hand, hoping she could see a spark. There was nothing. She imagined it would take flight coming alive like the snitch in Quidditch. Maybe it would happen when she slept.

She decided to test it. That night, she plucked a hair and laid it carefully on top of the crystal. Naina sneaked a glance at the crystal before turning the lights off to confirm the hair was still there. When she woke up the next morning, the angelite sat on top of its silk bag in the box on the counter, just as she had left it. The hair hadn’t moved.

Watch or listen along below:

The Box, Chapter 3

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

This is Chapter 3.

Beach, Sullivan’s Island, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Naina lived a simple life. Her biggest indulgence was a yearly hair trim on her birthday. Every November 11, she went to the Urban Nirvana on Market Street and booked with Caroline at 12:15 pm. Afterward, she popped into Cafe Framboise and ordered a croque monsieur with a side salad and a slice of opera cake to take away. At home, she took out one candle and sang herself Happy Birthday. It was her yearly ritual.

But she no longer made a wish when she blew out the candle. She had spent many years wishing for her mother to come back to her, and it never worked. Even Naina wasn’t naive enough to accept there was no coming back from the dead. Her mother had joined the 1,700 other souls who found their deaths by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.

Naina was pleased that the box of twenty-four birthday candles she’d bought at Harris Teeter when she first moved to Charleston had lasted this long. She liked items with a long shelf life.

Her father called her on her birthday. It was one of the few times a year they spoke. Naina took the day off from work if it wasn’t a weekend so that she wouldn’t have to worry about missing the phone call. She hated that her father didn’t tell her in advance what time he would reach out. It was the only day in the year she kept her phone in her hand, making her feel as normal as everyone around her. She glanced at the screen every time she heard a beep or a buzzing, even though she set a special ringtone for her father.

The conversation was brief. He wished her a happy birthday, asked about her work and health, and confirmed she still received the $2000 monthly deposit to cover her rent and utilities. If it hadn’t been for the recurring wire, her receptionist salary would not have allowed her to live in the heart of downtown. Naina’s father had secured the lease when Naina enrolled at the College of Charleston, reasoning she needed her own space. After graduation, she stayed on. Neither had questioned why he continued to pay the rent when her salary couldn’t afford it. Or why she didn’t get a more affordable place. Or why she didn’t seek a higher-paying job.

Naina avoided questioning her father because when she had done so in the past, it led to life-altering results. He resorted to a change of environment as if that alone would provide a solution. In Naina’s experience, it never did.

When she asked how she would live without her mother, her father sent her to boarding school. Naina didn’t know if her father had decided to send her to Linden School in New York, or if he had done it under her stepmother’s insistence. What was clear was that she wasn’t wanted. They shipped her off without a thought.

When Naina asked her father how to get people to like her, her father sent her to Ivy Oak School. That was how she ended up in Charleston, South Carolina. When she asked how to make friends, he arranged for her to live with a boarder, whom she stayed with until she moved into her current apartment. Naina went to and from school and only attended school-related activities. She didn’t go out for any other reason. She kept to herself. Even in the boarder’s house, she only came out of her room to eat meals. She didn’t make any friends, but Naina learned there was no point telling her father. She knew he would never ask her to come back to live with them. Home was something she would need to create for herself.

Naina was afraid that if she asked her father about a new job, he would make her move again. Or worse yet, he would stop paying her rent. Naina craved her father. Her only solace was seeing his name appear on her monthly bank statement.

During their yearly phone call on her birthday, Naina asked after her father and his health, and with a quick tightening of her jaw, she asked after her stepmother. The last time she had spoken to her was the last time she visited them in Marin, California, and that had been over four years ago. Her stepmother had criticized her for something Naina could no longer remember. Instead of arguing back, she kept herself in the guest room until the time came for her to fly back to Charleston. Naina hadn’t had a room at her father’s house since she’d been shipped off to boarding school at the age of 11.

Watch or listen along below:

The Box, Chapter 2

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

This is Chapter 2.

Broad Street, Charleston, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Naina walked back to her apartment for lunch. In her eagerness to get to the box, she forgot the intensity of the muggy August midday heat, which she usually avoided. The morning and evening walks were bad enough. Her phone indicated it was 91ºF with 94% humidity. To her, it felt like 111ºF. She saw heat waves rising from the asphalt.

Summers in Charleston were meant for the indoors. She didn’t understand how people ventured to the beach. She only liked the beach at Sullivan’s. It was quieter than the others. And she only went in the fall, nearing her birthday, when the heat wasn’t intense. And when there was no risk of getting caught in a hurricane.

When she got back to her apartment, she noticed the box was now placed squarely at the foot of her apartment door. She squatted down to read the label. Her name and address were listed, but there was no indication as to who sent it.

“Hi there,” a male voice said.

Naina jumped back, hitting the wall behind her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” A tall slim Indian man held out his hand. He wore white shorts and a dark blue polo shirt tucked in. His toes were perfectly groomed in his flip-flops. He looked as if he were in his mid-thirties.

Naina found him attractive but would never admit to that. She shook his hand.

The man laughed. “I meant to help you get up.”

“Oh.”

He held his hand out again but Naina didn’t reach for it. She stood up by herself. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’m Raiya, your neighbor.” He pointed to apartment 206.

Naina looked at her apartment door, 205, as if to confirm.

“I haven’t seen you before. Have you lived here long?” he asked.

“I was one of the first tenants in the building after they converted them into apartments.”

“Wasn’t that like ten years ago?”

“Eleven.”

“Wow. You look so young…I mean, not like someone who’s been living here that long.” He laughed again.

“I moved here while I was in college. I’m turning 30 this year.”

“You go, girl. I would have thought you were still in college. You look way younger than me. I’m 32.” Raiya placed his hand on Naina’s shoulder. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Naina.” She felt heat rise around her neck and she stepped away from his touch.

“Naina…and you have the eyes to match the name.” He winked.

Naina was surprised that Raiya pronounced her name perfectly. Naina didn’t like her name. It meant beautiful eyes in Hindi. It’s not that she didn’t appreciate its meaning, but she didn’t like that people couldn’t pronounce it properly. It was neh-na but people called her na-ee-na like hyena. She hated it. She usually spent the first few minutes of an introduction correcting the pronunciation of her name, and she didn’t let it go until she made sure the other person got it right, ignoring the discomfort it caused.

She didn’t think her eyes were beautiful. They were large and round and she did her best to hide them—without using makeup, of course. She was proud of her smooth skin; her pores were barely visible. It was the only part of her that she truly loved. She considered it her only accomplishment. If her personality were outgoing, and if she liked people, she could have been a skincare model—the face of Neutrogena. But she valued her privacy.

“We must be the only two Indians in all of Charleston,” Raiya said.

Naina looked quintessentially Indian, no matter how little she knew of her culture. “There is a small Indian mart in West Ashley.”

“India Spice on Old Towne Rd? I’ve been there. You don’t see many brown people around here, right?”

“Tourists.”

“Right…I’ve got to get back to work. I moved here to head up marketing for a start-up. I am working from home until they earn enough to rent an office space. It was nice meeting you. I hope to run into you again.”

Naina didn’t want that. Friendships were something she had ruled out long ago. Boyfriends too. Even as a child, she’d kept to herself. It was easier than to have to deal with the risk of being abandoned. Naina also didn’t like talking about herself. Invariably, the subject of her upbringing came up and she didn’t like talking about it.

She picked up the box and went into her apartment, eating her lunch and staring at it. She shoved the food down as quickly as possible, and after she cleared and washed her plate she stared at the box again. She had ten minutes to get back to the office.

Naina shook the box and heard a muffled sound inside. There was something padded within. She grabbed the scissors she reserved for cutting into tape—the adhesive rendered them useless for anything else. She opened the box and found a purple silk bag. Inside the silk bag was a spherical light blue and white crystal with thin red threads weaved throughout.

Watch or listen along below:

The Box, Chapter 1

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

This is Chapter 1.

Rainbow Row, Charleston, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Naina’s day started as it always did. Her alarm rang at 6:00 am and she snoozed twice. She got out of bed at 6:18 am and hopped on the Gazelle for twenty minutes. She bought her only exercise equipment in college eleven years ago because, at the time, she dreaded hurting her knees and the advertisement by Tony Little had promised the machine was low impact. Any type of injury worried her, and while exercise was a necessity, she did it in the safest way possible. She left her apartment, the same one she had lived in since she bought the Gazelle, at 7:55 am.

Naina saw a box outside her door and ignored it, figuring someone misplaced it. Her Amazon delivery day was Thursday and today was Tuesday. She walked down Hasell Street, turning left on Meeting. She had worked at the real estate office for seven years and knew it took her 678 steps to reach. That morning, Charleston was a muggy 84ºF, which made her break out into a light sweat before reaching the real-estate office.

When she settled behind the reception desk, she noticed a sticky note on her computer monitor that read, “I hope you liked it, Naina.” There was a smiley face.

Who on earth would leave her a smiley face? She barely dared to smile lest her face wrinkle. Naina took meticulous care of her skin, and at twenty-nine she had to be extra careful. She had reached the ominous age when collagen decreased and wrinkles began to appear. She looked around the office and saw no one. She was always the first to arrive and that morning was no exception.

She removed the sticky note and wondered where to place it. She swiveled a couple of times on her chair looking for an appropriate spot. She didn’t have time for it then. The office needed to be set up by 8:15 am Alice and Mark would arrive soon and Naina hated seeing their disapproving gazes, especially Alice’s, who was forever on her case. On her yearly performance review, Alice said that Naina’s simplicity negatively affected the company's image. That, coupled with Naina’s quiet demeanor and lack of friendly approach towards the clients.

Alice had suggested she wear makeup to be more presentable. Naina went to the Sephora on King St where an obtrusive lady armed with a belt full of brushes whisked Naina onto a makeup chair. The lady showed her a dizzying array of shadows, eyeliners, lipsticks, bronzers, primers, foundations, and mascara. After the makeover, Naina thought her reflection in the mirror looked like a clown. Still, she put on makeup the next day and Alice seemed satisfied. Naina would have continued using it if her skin hadn’t broken out.

Alice then suggested Naina wear jewelry. Naina’s ears were pierced at the hospital in San Francisco when she was born, but she’d stopped wearing earrings at age seven soon after her mother died. The piercings were sealed up, with no visible remnants of scars. Clip-ons hurt and invariably fell off before the end of the day.

Finally, Alice suggested that Naina do something with her hair. It was sleek and thick and fell to her waist. Naina tried bangs but her forehead broke out. She realized she would have to wash her hair every day to prevent the oils from her bangs from clogging the pores on her forehead. It wasn’t worth the effort.

Naina stuck the sticky note in her purse. She stepped away from the reception desk to brew coffee and slice the lemons to place into the water jug. Just as she finished filling the jug with ice, there was a ring at the desk. She made her way back and saw a gentleman standing, a bright smile on his face. His eyes glittered and his teeth seemed like a model for a whitening commercial. She thought she saw a sparkle on one tooth.

“Good morning, Naina. How are you?”

She wondered how he knew her name, but didn’t say anything.

“Did you open the box?” he asked.

“I haven’t checked for packages yet. I am still setting things up.”

“I mean the one I left outside your apartment door early this morning.”

“Oh.”

“Naina, please tell me you saw it.”

She couldn’t think of anything proper to say, other than, “Why?”

“It contains what you’ve been needing.” He winked and broadened his smile. “I’ll see you after you open it.”

“How will—”

The mysterious man walked out, interrupting the roller coaster of questions that sped through her mind. How would she contact him? Who was he? How did he know her name? Or where she lived? What was in the box? How did he know what she needed?

This last question hung in her consciousness. She didn’t know what she needed. How could someone else? Naina had spent most of her life letting circumstances–and people–decide what she needed and how. She followed the path of least resistance—the one that would send her into the least amount of spiraling. Life had been unpredictable in her childhood. As an adult, she craved stability. That was her priority.

As she inched closer to thirty, she began to wonder if there was more to life. What if she dared a little? What if she tried new things? What if she explored, for herself, the options that were open to her?

For the first time in her life, she couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment. She had brought her packed lunch to the office that day, as she always did, but maybe she would eat it at home.

Watch or listen along below:

The Box, an Introduction

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

In this introduction, I share how I went from short story to novel.

Pineapple Fountain at the Waterfront Park, Charleston, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Over the next few weeks, I'm going to share “The Box,” which was the short story I wrote originally that inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

It started as a short story because I didn't think I had enough substance to make it into something bigger. I like writing short stories. They are short snapshots of a person's life or a person's circumstances.

However, when I presented this short story to an editor she suggested I had enough material to take a deeper dive and extend it into a novel. I did. I wrote the short story in October 2020, and the novel came out in August 2023.

It took time before I was able to convert the story into a novel because I didn't dedicate the time to it. I went on a trip to the Baltics, and that’s when it all came together in my head. The protagonist in “The Box” doesn’t travel, but in the novel, she goes to The Baltics and it's quite a transformative experience for her; it’s a pivotal moment. I had this clarity while I was there, and I realized I had enough material to convert the short story into a novel.

I'm going to share the original short story. I’ll do it in these posts, but you can also watch or listen along on my YouTube channel at the link below.

Keep in mind that it is the unedited version I presented to the editor who came back to me with a lot of feedback, questions, suggestions for areas to expand, and pointers on where to improve. For instance, one of the criticisms the editor made was about Naina, the protagonist, who is the same character as in Can You Be—I kept the same characters in both the short story and the novel (the major changes are the length and the title). Naina in the short story version, “The Box,” is meeker than in Can You Be. The editor said it's hard for people to get drawn into a story where the main character is not a strong personality. Even though they have weaknesses, they need to persevere and have redeeming qualities. The protagonist, Naina, in “The Box” is looking to be rescued. In Can You Be, I adapted her so that she felt she could rescue herself and didn't need anyone. That was a big shift.

Keep that in mind as I share “The Box.”

Watch or listen along below:

Tarot vs Oracle Cards

The first time saw a deck of Tarot cards I was a child. I don’t recall where I was, but I have a vivid recollection of a woman doing a reading on the sidewalk.

I was mesmerized, and as I stared at the woman pulling cards, she shooed me away. That short encounter was impactful enough to create a lifelong interest in Tarot and Oracle card decks.

Tarot Cards vs Oracle Cards

Tarot card decks specifically depict seventy-eight images. The first twenty-two cards are of the Major Arcana, which are the named and numbered cards and follow the journey from the Fool to The World. These are perhaps the best-known and most easily identifiable cards of all the decks available.

The next fifty-six cards are the Minor Arcana, which are the suit cards divided into pentacles, wands, swords, and cups. The names for these vary. Pentacles are also known as coins or disks. Wands are also called rods, staffs, or staves. Swords are also referred to as blades. Cups are also called goblets or vessels. Regardless of the name, each suit has fourteen cards from Ace to King.

Oracle decks don’t follow a specific number or pattern and are conceived based on the intention and imagination of the creator. There is a vast difference from one deck to another.

I bought my first deck when I was a teenager and have collected numerous others since then. I have studied different decks. I am a Certified Angel Card reader, an intuitive, and have taken several courses on card reading.

It’s been my dream to create a deck of my own, and I am excited to announce that I will be releasing an Oracle deck soon. I will give more details on that below and in the coming weeks.

The Benefit of Using Decks

People generally perceive Tarot and Oracle decks for use in divination, but they can be a tool for spiritual development, a way to connect within, reflect, listen to intuition, find purpose, seek wisdom and clarity, and so much more.

How to Use Decks in Daily Life

There are many ways to use Tarot and Oracle decks in daily life.

I pull one to five cards daily, depending on what’s happening and the insight I am seeking. If I want a quick message for the day, I pull one card, but if I seek deeper insight I pull three to five.

Many decks come with a guidebook so it’s not necessary to know what they mean since you can easily look it up. I reflect on the meaning of the card, its significance on where it falls on the spread, and how it applies to my life.

I also do readings when something significant is happening and I need more than a quick reading. I pull nine to thirty-six cards depending on how deep I want to go. Specific spreads provide specific insight.

Recently I wanted insight into a project I intend to start, and a nine-card spread advised me to let go of negative self-belief; overcome the challenges about my limitations; release doubt; instead, trust my dreams will manifest; embrace this opportunity because I accomplish more when I work with others; and allow my creativity to spark because this project is about an inner desire finding its way into the world. It was quite a powerful and encouraging message. Doesn’t it seem like sound advice?

I often journal after doing a reading. Writing helps me process my thoughts and emotions. I sit still, looking at the cards, and write what comes to me.

I reflect on the meaning and interpretation of each card and/or the combined meaning of all the cards. I gain clarity, understanding, and practical application of the messages they convey.

I also reflect on what lessons they want to teach me, and what they might be telling me to open up to or release. Sometimes they point out something I may have been ignoring or resisting, and writing about it helps me recognize and eventually break the pattern. For instance, they may point out a self-limiting belief I need to release. They also point out something I have been doing well, giving me a reason to express gratitude and celebrate.

I’ve only scratched the surface here, as there are other uses for Tarot and Oracle decks. They are accessible tools that can have practical applications.

My Upcoming Deck: Daily Divine, Reflections to Connect Within

The Oracle deck I will be releasing has seventy-seven cards. I started creating it together two years ago after a reunion with my graduate school classmates. Something about reminiscing sparked my inspiration. It took a few months to pull them together.

In August 2023, I collaborated with Jess Fowler, a beautiful Australian artist who meticulously drew the images for each card, and also drew the cover image. The drawings are of animals and nature, and the descriptions and messages are of the deeper meaning they provide.

The purpose of the deck is to awaken and strengthen the connection with intuition and develop an everyday practice of reflection. Each card has a theme, a message, and questions for reflection, which can be used to clarify, journal as I described above, meditate, and/or contemplate, depending on what the reader is called to do.

I am excited for these cards and cannot wait to share them soon.

I invite you to follow me on Facebook or Instagram to get updates on the release.

The Gift of Giving

For the past year, I have been extending appreciation messages. I sent out thirty-three letters, all themed in yellow, either containing yellow envelopes, yellow designs, yellow flowers, and/or yellow stickers.

At the end of 2023, Brad Walsh asked people to participate in a project of sending voice notes over thirty days. He runs the Empowerography Podcast Lounge, and he asked us to do this in the December. The purpose was to spread love. We had to leave a voice message telling a different person each day how much they meant to us or how much we appreciated them. We could leave more than one message per day, but we had to leave at least one. I happily participated in that.

In the last month, I mailed out letters once again. I sent another round of cards where I shared with each person who received my card why I was thinking about them, how I remembered them, or what I took away from our last interaction.

I cannot take credit for initiating any of these exercises.

A year ago, while on a trip to India, I saw a Hindu astrologer. We discussed some challenges I’ve been having and he gave me a set of instructions. One of them was to do extend kindness and to do it every Thursday for thirty-three weeks. That’s when I decided to send out the original thirty-three yellow themed cards. The color yellow was essential and I later came to understand that yellow in Hinduism symbolizes peace, personal development, knowledge, and meditation. It particularly helps with activating the mind, which I certainly needed.

I completed the exercise as he indicated for me, sending out the last card of the first round of thirty-three at the end of October. A month later, I received a message from Brad asking if I was interested in participating in his exercise. I happily agreed. Recently, recalling how much I enjoyed sending the first round of thirty-three letters, I decided to do it again. I didn’t continue with the yellow theme, but rather sent messages of love. The cards I selected all had the word love on the front, written in a different language.

Over ninety-six people received my cards and messages. This is what I learned:

Reactions were varied. Some people expressed excitement and appreciation at getting my cards or messages. Others thanked me simply. Still others, didn’t acknowledge the messages at all.

It didn’t matter how people reacted or not. The exercise wasn’t about getting reactions.

It brought me joy to write the cards. I sent out good wishes and I expressed appreciation to people in my life.

I continued the exercise beyond the original thirty-three messages because it felt good to me. The more kindness I sent out, the more kindness came back to me.

It is rare these days to receive hand-written notes and it took time and effort on my side to put them together. I enjoyed it because it brought me back to simpler times when communication took more thought and diligence..

It was worthwhile. If another opportunity arises, I will do it again.

You don’t have to engage in the same exercises I did. There are other ways to spread kindness. Even noticing someone passing on the street, making eye contact, and smiling can have a positive impact.

What other ways can you think of to spread good wishes, appreciation, or kindness?

How do you think this would impact the people in your life? How would it impact you?

Embrace is Two!

Today marks the second anniversary of Embrace. It’s the second book in my Soul-Seeker Collection series which includes three poetry books, which I started writing in 2020.

I have shared my poetry writing journey previously, and you can read about it here.

As a reminder, the first book, Embody, is an exploration of what was happening to me at the time I wrote it. It was personal and specific to my healing. Embrace is about ebbs and flows and cycles. I was in a stage of flux at the time, moving from South Carolina to Idaho, and it made me reflect on transitions. Embolden, the third book, is about how to move forward in a new way, how to make the best out of my circumstances, and how to harness our connection to the universe.

Over roughly a year, I wrote hundreds of poems. The three books in the Soul-Seeker Collection consist of nearly 300 poems.

I have written about Embody and Embolden, and today I am focusing on Embrace. It is about cycles and is inspired by astrology and Buddhist life stages, but not directly linked to them. Embrace is divided into twelve chapters based on the twelve stages in the Wheel of Life and twelve signs in the zodiac. The poems are organized in such a way that the beginning is about the start of cycles and the end is about completion. Cycles inspired me because life is about ebbs and flows and nothing is permanent.

Embrace is about understanding that nothing lasts forever. We're in cycles from birth to death. There's constant change and transition, from our simple day-to-day where night turns to day and back. Embrace was about how I came to terms with this, how I accepted and made sense that change is permanent.

Because I wrote most of the poems while I was moving, I felt untethered; I was neither here nor there. I didn't feel settled. My things were packed up, I didn’t have access to them, and I didn’t have a stable place to sleep. I felt adrift.

At the same time, I forgot about what I owned and realized I didn't need as much as I had. It showed me how adaptable I am. It was up to me to make my life as limited or as expansive as I wanted.

One of the reasons the book is titled Embrace is that during this time of transition, I wrote a lot of poetry, and I began to embrace myself as a poet. I started working on my first novel, Lonely Dove, in 2018 and since then, I’ve considered myself a writer and novelist, but it took me a while to accept I was writing poetry. The poems for both Embody and Embrace came from an emotional journey, but I was at different places with each book.

The poems for Embody seemed to come out of nowhere—I had no idea what was happening and how they were coming to me. I was experiencing healing and words came through me but I didn't understand how or why.

By the time I wrote the poems for Embrace, I had accepted I was writing poetry, and I was exploring my voice as a poet, which was different from my voice as a novelist. I thought, “Oh wow! I am writing poetry. I’m doing this. I can call myself a poet.”

I began to share some poems on social media. My intention then was to get comfortable with sharing my writing, reasoning that I was eventually going to share a novel, and so it seemed like a logical step. I still didn't imagine I was going to publish a series of poetry books.

The publishing portion emerged organically. I was open to allowing the universe to direct me. I felt a calling to write poetry and I allowed it to happen. I had a conversation with Karen Weaver, my publisher, although back then she wasn’t. She suggested publishing, and it felt good to me so I said, “Yes, I'm gonna do this. I am going to write and publish poetry.”

I am grateful I did because it allowed for my journey to come together as it has.

We all face moments of discomfort, of insecurity, and of fear. It takes courage to take the next step. I had to gain the courage to commit to writing poetry and then commit to publishing it. It was scary. I felt extremely vulnerable, especially to share poetry because it is personal. I share what I'm going through, what I’m feeling, and how I see the world. I was afraid of judgment and criticism.

And, it came. One of the worst reviews I received was from someone who said my poems were random words I had put together. At first, I was disheartened, but then I realized that writing is exactly that. Writing is about putting words together, so I took it in stride.

Criticism and hurtful comments can only hurt if we allow it. People are entitled to their opinions but that shouldn’t stop us. The truth is, most of the comments and feedback I’ve received have been positive. My poetry books have won, not just one, but multiple awards. It’s hard though, in the face of criticism, not to focus on the negative. I have to remind myself of my achievements and appreciate them. I stand in my passion, identity, and integrity.

I encourage you to explore your talents and interests. If something is calling to you, write it, speak it, share it. You never know where it's going to lead and what’s going to come of it. I have learned it’s about being open and releasing expectations. That's when the world opens up with possibility.

Writing & Such, an Endeavor of Love

Mickey Martin and I embarked on a collaboration to share our thoughts about our professions. It is the Writing & Such YouTube Channel

We wanted to share many of the conversations we’ve often exchanged regarding all things writing.

Mickey came up with the title, since she is known to say, “such and such” and “so on and so forth.” I came up with the idea of creating videos to capture these moments.

Mickey and I write in different genres, which we discuss in Episode 2 of Writing & Such, yet we have a lot of synergies in our experiences. We have different approaches to writing, yet we are united in our desire and passion to share the written word. We think it’s important to share the breadth and depth of the writing journey and author experience.

We don’t take ourselves too seriously, and our videos are fun, funny, and full of laughter. There are a few interruptions that we sometimes edit out, and sometimes keep. The episodes are less than five minutes long so viewers don’t have to commit to watching a lengthy recording.

Our conversations happen spontaneously. Often, we don’t know what we’re going to discuss in the episode until after we hit the record button. What you see is a natural exchange between us and our guests.

We began recording at Crom Castle, in Enniskillen, Northern Ireland. Mickey and I met there at a Serenity Press Retreat in October 2019, and we were back together again in November 2023. Our initial episodes were recorded at various located in and around the castle. We also had access to many other authors whom we have showcased in our interviews.

Please consider subscribing to our channel, and supporting our light-hearted endeavor to get keep the conversation going about writing and such.