Rebecca Wells's Blog, page 4
November 1, 2009
11/1/09 Practicing Relaxation
Dahlin' dears,
We hear a lot these days about the physical and emotional damage of stress, but not a whole lot about steps we can actually take to diminish the effects of stress. In fact, the reports on stress probably increase our stress! What’s a girl to do to shake it off?
I try to start every day with a cup of hot herbal tea and some quiet meditation time. Not the lotus-position kind of meditation, just me and little Mercy-dog cuddling on the window seat together, breathing in and out slowly and deeply while doing my best to empty my mind of negative thoughts. I count my blessings as I do this deep breathing. I think about the gifts that I have been given. I name the people that I love and those that love me. As I sit and sip my tea and rub Mercy’s warm belly the way she likes best, I just try to let go of all of the stuff that tries to eat away at my peace of mind.
It’s a good way to start the day, and I can definitely tell the difference in my frame of mind when I don’t give myself the time I need to de-stress. How do you practice relaxation? Maybe what works for you will work for me too!
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
We hear a lot these days about the physical and emotional damage of stress, but not a whole lot about steps we can actually take to diminish the effects of stress. In fact, the reports on stress probably increase our stress! What’s a girl to do to shake it off?
I try to start every day with a cup of hot herbal tea and some quiet meditation time. Not the lotus-position kind of meditation, just me and little Mercy-dog cuddling on the window seat together, breathing in and out slowly and deeply while doing my best to empty my mind of negative thoughts. I count my blessings as I do this deep breathing. I think about the gifts that I have been given. I name the people that I love and those that love me. As I sit and sip my tea and rub Mercy’s warm belly the way she likes best, I just try to let go of all of the stuff that tries to eat away at my peace of mind.
It’s a good way to start the day, and I can definitely tell the difference in my frame of mind when I don’t give myself the time I need to de-stress. How do you practice relaxation? Maybe what works for you will work for me too!
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
October 5, 2009
October 5, 2009
Dahlin dears,
Y'all may have noticed, but there was no full moon note on the day of the full moon. I have been living in Migraine City for a while, and have just been granted a reprieve, which I hope will last for a very long time.
Who out there has migraines? What do you do for them? The dark room, the bed, not being able to turn one's head from side to side, the horrific response to smells or sounds. It's really another city, that migraine place.
I keep saying: "Not complaining, just explaining." This helps the people around me bear it--or at least I hope so!
Now that I've had some days free from the migraine demons, I've loved walking outside! I love autumn. Love the gray days. I know some people abhor the coming of autumn and winter, but I have always found it a comfort. Those rainy days are so conducive to writing or just curling up in bed with a good book.
Here in my study next to my computer is a big sunflower in an old blue Mason jar. The flower grounds me to this place, to this moment. Anything that can do that is a gift. As someone once said: "Now is a gift -- that's why they call it the 'present'."
I hope you are all living full lives, graced by loved ones, whether they are near or far. More and more I believe that even death is not a separation, but a migration to another star. More and more I feel the presence of those who have gone before me. I call on them. Now, as The Day of the Dead (Halloween) approaches, this is especially true. Look at the last chapter of DIVINE SECRETS OF THE YA-YA SISTERHOOD, and you'll see how Sidda and her story helped teach me that. Life is good. Writing is good too. In fact, it is astounding. I'm writing often these days, and each moment spent in fiction is pure joy.
Wishing you falling leaves filled with joy, and recognition of hidden gifts.
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
Copyright © by Rebecca Wells
Y'all may have noticed, but there was no full moon note on the day of the full moon. I have been living in Migraine City for a while, and have just been granted a reprieve, which I hope will last for a very long time.
Who out there has migraines? What do you do for them? The dark room, the bed, not being able to turn one's head from side to side, the horrific response to smells or sounds. It's really another city, that migraine place.
I keep saying: "Not complaining, just explaining." This helps the people around me bear it--or at least I hope so!
Now that I've had some days free from the migraine demons, I've loved walking outside! I love autumn. Love the gray days. I know some people abhor the coming of autumn and winter, but I have always found it a comfort. Those rainy days are so conducive to writing or just curling up in bed with a good book.
Here in my study next to my computer is a big sunflower in an old blue Mason jar. The flower grounds me to this place, to this moment. Anything that can do that is a gift. As someone once said: "Now is a gift -- that's why they call it the 'present'."
I hope you are all living full lives, graced by loved ones, whether they are near or far. More and more I believe that even death is not a separation, but a migration to another star. More and more I feel the presence of those who have gone before me. I call on them. Now, as The Day of the Dead (Halloween) approaches, this is especially true. Look at the last chapter of DIVINE SECRETS OF THE YA-YA SISTERHOOD, and you'll see how Sidda and her story helped teach me that. Life is good. Writing is good too. In fact, it is astounding. I'm writing often these days, and each moment spent in fiction is pure joy.
Wishing you falling leaves filled with joy, and recognition of hidden gifts.
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
Copyright © by Rebecca Wells
September 28, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Hello Dahlins,
Now that I’ve had a chance to breathe after doing so many fun interviews talking about “The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder” I am enjoying a moment of quiet. I have been writing, writing, writing, and writing. In between writing, I write. No, really, seriously: in between writing, I take a second to “powder my nose,” then I resume writing, writing, and writing.
Okay, there you have a lot of it. But… to keep me company is always Mercy, my little female Cavalier King Charles spaniel. She plays “hard to get,” but actually lives to climb into my lap and fall asleep. She’d love to do it while I am writing, writing, and then writing. But she is really a TAD bit too large for a lap dog unless I am anchored well.
Outside the French doors to the south of my computer is a Japanese Katsura tree that is ablaze with gold. The sheep are quite content, having just been moved into a new pasture. The small oaks lining the lane are already turning color - a bit each day. I hate to miss even one day walking outside because colors change so fast.
The sunflowers really took off this year — many of them higher than the first floor. As you probably know, I consider sunflowers to be the face of God. But the face of God is in so many places that I hesitate to single out only one. The sunflowers are still blooming, and we are drying the ones we have “harvested” by hanging them indoors, upside down all along the banister to the second floor. Sunflower is much a companion.
The big pot of yellow mums on the porch outside calls out “NOW! BE. HERE. NOW.” So I write, pray, listen to the mums, adore the sunflowers as I walk down the lane passing the small oaks, enjoying the love of a kind friend of long-standing who has been visiting for a bit, taking care, making us laugh, helping out with such critical parts of making a new novel as making me an omelet!
Oh! It is nearly October again, we are on this planet together, and ain’t we got fun?
Kisses and Hugs and
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
Now that I’ve had a chance to breathe after doing so many fun interviews talking about “The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder” I am enjoying a moment of quiet. I have been writing, writing, writing, and writing. In between writing, I write. No, really, seriously: in between writing, I take a second to “powder my nose,” then I resume writing, writing, and writing.
Okay, there you have a lot of it. But… to keep me company is always Mercy, my little female Cavalier King Charles spaniel. She plays “hard to get,” but actually lives to climb into my lap and fall asleep. She’d love to do it while I am writing, writing, and then writing. But she is really a TAD bit too large for a lap dog unless I am anchored well.
Outside the French doors to the south of my computer is a Japanese Katsura tree that is ablaze with gold. The sheep are quite content, having just been moved into a new pasture. The small oaks lining the lane are already turning color - a bit each day. I hate to miss even one day walking outside because colors change so fast.
The sunflowers really took off this year — many of them higher than the first floor. As you probably know, I consider sunflowers to be the face of God. But the face of God is in so many places that I hesitate to single out only one. The sunflowers are still blooming, and we are drying the ones we have “harvested” by hanging them indoors, upside down all along the banister to the second floor. Sunflower is much a companion.
The big pot of yellow mums on the porch outside calls out “NOW! BE. HERE. NOW.” So I write, pray, listen to the mums, adore the sunflowers as I walk down the lane passing the small oaks, enjoying the love of a kind friend of long-standing who has been visiting for a bit, taking care, making us laugh, helping out with such critical parts of making a new novel as making me an omelet!
Oh! It is nearly October again, we are on this planet together, and ain’t we got fun?
Kisses and Hugs and
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
September 20, 2009
Sunday, September 21, 2009
Dahlin’ dears,
Last full moon I saw La Luna shine her light down on the sheep in the front pasture and I just can't stop thinking about the peacefulness of their presence. The five of them lay so still on the end-of-summer grass that they looked like a still life. They did not move as I walked by. They were totally undisturbed, like I want to be.
If I could be more like a sheep, my life would be placid. I pray for that every day.
And I wonder under the light of the moon if going through Lyme disease may be somewhat like the pain of childbirth. Having never had a biological child, I do not know that pain, but have heard my girlfriends describe the experience, and how they got through it by remembering (in between contractions!) that they were giving life to a new being.
I wonder if the pain of illness may create a new being out of me as I pass through it. That image helped me today. I wonder if those of you who have different kinds of suffering know what I mean?
Such a passage requires the removal of doubt and fear. Fear is that killer that cripples the mind and heart. We live in a world filled with fear. We have once again passed the anniversary of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. We witness destruction in so many areas of life. The recent anniversary of 9/11 reminds us. Moving toward the goal of courage and love to combat fear will free us to feel more compassion, not only for others, but also for our selves.
For we are sweet beings meant for joy and laughter, not fear. Yes, when there is something literally fearful in front of us, we step out of harm's way. But when imagined fears and anticipated dread threatens to hurt our minds and bodies, it is time to take that step to move beyond fear.
The moon in the sky is not afraid. The sheep in the pasture are not afraid. This evening I commit myself to saying "no" to fear and "yes" to love. Who will take my hand as I walk down this road?
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
Last full moon I saw La Luna shine her light down on the sheep in the front pasture and I just can't stop thinking about the peacefulness of their presence. The five of them lay so still on the end-of-summer grass that they looked like a still life. They did not move as I walked by. They were totally undisturbed, like I want to be.
If I could be more like a sheep, my life would be placid. I pray for that every day.
And I wonder under the light of the moon if going through Lyme disease may be somewhat like the pain of childbirth. Having never had a biological child, I do not know that pain, but have heard my girlfriends describe the experience, and how they got through it by remembering (in between contractions!) that they were giving life to a new being.
I wonder if the pain of illness may create a new being out of me as I pass through it. That image helped me today. I wonder if those of you who have different kinds of suffering know what I mean?
Such a passage requires the removal of doubt and fear. Fear is that killer that cripples the mind and heart. We live in a world filled with fear. We have once again passed the anniversary of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. We witness destruction in so many areas of life. The recent anniversary of 9/11 reminds us. Moving toward the goal of courage and love to combat fear will free us to feel more compassion, not only for others, but also for our selves.
For we are sweet beings meant for joy and laughter, not fear. Yes, when there is something literally fearful in front of us, we step out of harm's way. But when imagined fears and anticipated dread threatens to hurt our minds and bodies, it is time to take that step to move beyond fear.
The moon in the sky is not afraid. The sheep in the pasture are not afraid. This evening I commit myself to saying "no" to fear and "yes" to love. Who will take my hand as I walk down this road?
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
September 14, 2009
September 14, 2009
Dahlin Ya-Yas,
I wish you could smell the yellow scented lily that sits in a vase next to my computer. Its scent is just right — not too shy and not too overpowering. This summer seemed the sweetest in years. In front of the porch is a wild garden filled with snapdragons, lavender and pink roses, (I can never remember the names of flowers unless they are words which reach out and caress me as much as the scent and are as beautiful as the flower itself.) But back to the flowers!
Lacey-top hydrangea, foxglove, and -- "taa-daa" -- the flower whose face seems to be the face of God — the sunflower - also graces us! Those of you who have read "Divine Secrets" or kept up with my posts over the years know that I bow down to this flower in delight and a kind of sunflower worship that some might call Pagan, but which I call gratefulness.
When I’m not writing, I’m enjoying walking up the lane with old Douglas firs towering above me. I check in on the sheep, who are fat and happy in the pasture they were just moved into today. Lucy had an infection and my sweet husband gave her the shots she needed. Now she’s all better. Mister Lonely, who was once shunned by all the others, is no longer isolated since Gracie befriended him.
Our little King Charles Cavalier spaniel, Mercy, continues to ignore the sheep as though they were not only a lesser species, but as though they simply weren’t there! She is a princess as she trots down the lane, not pausing for a moment as the sheep "baaaa" to me, hoping for a bit of alfalfa.
La Luna shines down on everything. She grows from a "fingernail" moon, as I called her as a child, to a full glorious moon that takes our breath away. I watch her from the front porch move across the southern sky. I look to her for aid; I look to her with a grateful heart. I look to her with prayers for peace and love for all of you, for all of our sisters and brothers on this tiny planet spinning in space.
Take care, be happy, and remember to keep dancing in the kitchen!
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
I wish you could smell the yellow scented lily that sits in a vase next to my computer. Its scent is just right — not too shy and not too overpowering. This summer seemed the sweetest in years. In front of the porch is a wild garden filled with snapdragons, lavender and pink roses, (I can never remember the names of flowers unless they are words which reach out and caress me as much as the scent and are as beautiful as the flower itself.) But back to the flowers!
Lacey-top hydrangea, foxglove, and -- "taa-daa" -- the flower whose face seems to be the face of God — the sunflower - also graces us! Those of you who have read "Divine Secrets" or kept up with my posts over the years know that I bow down to this flower in delight and a kind of sunflower worship that some might call Pagan, but which I call gratefulness.
When I’m not writing, I’m enjoying walking up the lane with old Douglas firs towering above me. I check in on the sheep, who are fat and happy in the pasture they were just moved into today. Lucy had an infection and my sweet husband gave her the shots she needed. Now she’s all better. Mister Lonely, who was once shunned by all the others, is no longer isolated since Gracie befriended him.
Our little King Charles Cavalier spaniel, Mercy, continues to ignore the sheep as though they were not only a lesser species, but as though they simply weren’t there! She is a princess as she trots down the lane, not pausing for a moment as the sheep "baaaa" to me, hoping for a bit of alfalfa.
La Luna shines down on everything. She grows from a "fingernail" moon, as I called her as a child, to a full glorious moon that takes our breath away. I watch her from the front porch move across the southern sky. I look to her for aid; I look to her with a grateful heart. I look to her with prayers for peace and love for all of you, for all of our sisters and brothers on this tiny planet spinning in space.
Take care, be happy, and remember to keep dancing in the kitchen!
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
September 8, 2009
Autumn is Coming
Dahlin Dears,
Autumn is quietly tiptoeing in. A few big leaf maple leaves are breathed down when the breezes come along, breathed at a time When I walk down the lane with Mercy, our spaniel, I watch the lengthening shadows. The days getting shorter. My Southern girl body already needs a jacket or a gardening coat to cut flowers in the early evening. We harvest string beans, tomatoes (Both red and the low-acidic yellow ones), yellow squash, and corn from our garden and from the community garden, and then we sauté it all into a summer succotash.
A painting that inspired the creation of The Moon Lady from "The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder" hangs on one wall of the dining room. Before my sweet husband Tom and I sit down I madly rush to clear the table of my journal, date book, and letters in progress and I light candles. We have promised ourselves to sit down and eat dinner together whenever possible, to let it be a time to share and laugh and we call it a date.
In an attempt to quiet my life we have no television service. There’s no cable service here, and I am not going to pay a small fortune for satellite hookup, so the decision was made a little easier. Even with that, it’s not easy to live a deliberately slow life. I still wake up with a sense of rushing and have to calm myself because I can’t save the world, because none of us can vet the world. We can live a life so that we love others and are kind, we can do our best to help those who are hurting. We can slow down and sit with candles on the table and look at our husbands or children or wives, aging mothers and fathers and with friends and we can eat simply and look for joy.
This past week as a nation we lost Ted Kennedy, whom I was grateful to for his keeping the faith. As an individual I lost a friend from my childhood to a motorcycle accident. We went to college together. His mother was my mother’s best friend and his humor always reminded me of hers, a dry wit and sly smile.
The leaves fall from the trees, the hydrangeas are ready to bring in and dry. The heart must crack open again. It happens to me. It happens to Calla Lily in my latest book. It happens to us all. At the same time, the beauty of the forest and the tall, tall trees — the "green angels" I call them — border the farm, stand sentry, green all year long. Evergreen love. Nothing lasts forever. Is this just-breaking news? Will it make Fox News? I don’t think so. But news from the universe is always-breaking news, and it happens with our volume turned down real, real quiet.
From my garden to yours, I wish for you 84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
Autumn is quietly tiptoeing in. A few big leaf maple leaves are breathed down when the breezes come along, breathed at a time When I walk down the lane with Mercy, our spaniel, I watch the lengthening shadows. The days getting shorter. My Southern girl body already needs a jacket or a gardening coat to cut flowers in the early evening. We harvest string beans, tomatoes (Both red and the low-acidic yellow ones), yellow squash, and corn from our garden and from the community garden, and then we sauté it all into a summer succotash.
A painting that inspired the creation of The Moon Lady from "The Crowning Glory of Calla Lily Ponder" hangs on one wall of the dining room. Before my sweet husband Tom and I sit down I madly rush to clear the table of my journal, date book, and letters in progress and I light candles. We have promised ourselves to sit down and eat dinner together whenever possible, to let it be a time to share and laugh and we call it a date.
In an attempt to quiet my life we have no television service. There’s no cable service here, and I am not going to pay a small fortune for satellite hookup, so the decision was made a little easier. Even with that, it’s not easy to live a deliberately slow life. I still wake up with a sense of rushing and have to calm myself because I can’t save the world, because none of us can vet the world. We can live a life so that we love others and are kind, we can do our best to help those who are hurting. We can slow down and sit with candles on the table and look at our husbands or children or wives, aging mothers and fathers and with friends and we can eat simply and look for joy.
This past week as a nation we lost Ted Kennedy, whom I was grateful to for his keeping the faith. As an individual I lost a friend from my childhood to a motorcycle accident. We went to college together. His mother was my mother’s best friend and his humor always reminded me of hers, a dry wit and sly smile.
The leaves fall from the trees, the hydrangeas are ready to bring in and dry. The heart must crack open again. It happens to me. It happens to Calla Lily in my latest book. It happens to us all. At the same time, the beauty of the forest and the tall, tall trees — the "green angels" I call them — border the farm, stand sentry, green all year long. Evergreen love. Nothing lasts forever. Is this just-breaking news? Will it make Fox News? I don’t think so. But news from the universe is always-breaking news, and it happens with our volume turned down real, real quiet.
From my garden to yours, I wish for you 84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
August 30, 2009
Late Summer Musings
Dahlin Ya-Yas,
I wish you could smell the yellow scented lily that sits in a vase next to my computer. Its scent is just right—not too shy, and not too over-powering. This summer seems the sweetest in years. In front of the porch is a wild garden filled with snapdragons, lavender and pink roses, (I can never remember the names of flowers unless they are words which reach out and caress me as much as the scent, and beautiful as the flower itself.) But back to the flowers!
Lacey-top hydrangea, foxglove, and -- "taa-daa" -- the flower whose face seems to be the face of God — the sunflower -- also graces us! Those of you who have read "Divine Secrets" or kept up with my posts over the years know that I bow down to this flower in delight and a kind of sunflower worship that some might call Pagan, but which I call gratefulness.
When I’m not writing, I’m enjoying walking up the lane with old Douglas firs towering above me. I check in on the sheep, who are fat and happy in the pasture they were just moved into today. Lucy had an infection, and my sweet husband gave her the shots she needed. Now she’s all better. Mister Lonely, who was once shunned by all the others, is no longer isolated since Gracie befriended him.
Our little King Charles Cavalier spaniel, Mercy, continues to ignore the sheep as though they were not only a lesser species, but as though they simply weren’t there! She is a princess as she trots down the lane, not pausing for a moment as the sheep "baaaa" to me, hoping for a bit of alfalfa.
La Luna shines down on everything. She grows from a "fingernail" moon, as I called her as a child, to a full glorious moon that takes our breath away. I watch her from the front porch move across the southern sky. I look to her for aid; I look to her with a grateful heart. I look to her with prayers for peace and love for all of you, for all of our sisters and brothers on this tiny planet spinning in space.
No matter what happens, we are sisters. The only thing that is constant is change. Let’s embrace it like a friend who leads us through the open door.
Take care, be happy, and remember to keep dancing in the kitchen!
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
I wish you could smell the yellow scented lily that sits in a vase next to my computer. Its scent is just right—not too shy, and not too over-powering. This summer seems the sweetest in years. In front of the porch is a wild garden filled with snapdragons, lavender and pink roses, (I can never remember the names of flowers unless they are words which reach out and caress me as much as the scent, and beautiful as the flower itself.) But back to the flowers!
Lacey-top hydrangea, foxglove, and -- "taa-daa" -- the flower whose face seems to be the face of God — the sunflower -- also graces us! Those of you who have read "Divine Secrets" or kept up with my posts over the years know that I bow down to this flower in delight and a kind of sunflower worship that some might call Pagan, but which I call gratefulness.
When I’m not writing, I’m enjoying walking up the lane with old Douglas firs towering above me. I check in on the sheep, who are fat and happy in the pasture they were just moved into today. Lucy had an infection, and my sweet husband gave her the shots she needed. Now she’s all better. Mister Lonely, who was once shunned by all the others, is no longer isolated since Gracie befriended him.
Our little King Charles Cavalier spaniel, Mercy, continues to ignore the sheep as though they were not only a lesser species, but as though they simply weren’t there! She is a princess as she trots down the lane, not pausing for a moment as the sheep "baaaa" to me, hoping for a bit of alfalfa.
La Luna shines down on everything. She grows from a "fingernail" moon, as I called her as a child, to a full glorious moon that takes our breath away. I watch her from the front porch move across the southern sky. I look to her for aid; I look to her with a grateful heart. I look to her with prayers for peace and love for all of you, for all of our sisters and brothers on this tiny planet spinning in space.
No matter what happens, we are sisters. The only thing that is constant is change. Let’s embrace it like a friend who leads us through the open door.
Take care, be happy, and remember to keep dancing in the kitchen!
84,000 Blessings,
Rebecca
August 25, 2009
What book speaks to you?
Dahlin’ dears,
Have you ever read “The Gift” by Lewis Hyde?
For me, this book is solid gold for those involved in making any kind of art. Hyde divides the book into two parts: first, a wide-reaching exploration of indigenous people’s gift-giving societies; secondly, a study of what happens to a piece of art when it is put forth into a commodity society. Hyde gave me a way to look at not only my work, but also my life — and all life — as a gift. Pure gift.
This book, tattered from years of carrying it in suitcases, duffel bags, and carry-ons has been my talisman as I continue to try and understand how to keep the spirit of gift-giving while I work for profit. This book gave me a vocabulary for talking about any art form. After readings and re-readings, after success came to me, it helped me establish my personal aesthetic: Does a work of art constrict the heart or does it open it wider to more love and generosity?
What book speaks to you?
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
Have you ever read “The Gift” by Lewis Hyde?
For me, this book is solid gold for those involved in making any kind of art. Hyde divides the book into two parts: first, a wide-reaching exploration of indigenous people’s gift-giving societies; secondly, a study of what happens to a piece of art when it is put forth into a commodity society. Hyde gave me a way to look at not only my work, but also my life — and all life — as a gift. Pure gift.
This book, tattered from years of carrying it in suitcases, duffel bags, and carry-ons has been my talisman as I continue to try and understand how to keep the spirit of gift-giving while I work for profit. This book gave me a vocabulary for talking about any art form. After readings and re-readings, after success came to me, it helped me establish my personal aesthetic: Does a work of art constrict the heart or does it open it wider to more love and generosity?
What book speaks to you?
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
August 18, 2009
What do you believe?
Dahlin Dears,
What a time of year, yes? The trees so full, the roses, oh the roses in full bloom. I have a weakness for lavender roses. I don’t know their names, but when I see them I swoon. (Not that I don’t swoon at other times whether I want to or not.)
La Luna this month in all her glory beckons me to think about faith. About the movement from hope toward faith. What do we believe in? I believe in the “sacrament of the moment.” I believe in the power of forgiveness. I believe in the boundless power of love. I believe in the power of gratitude that helps me walk through this life.
What do y’all believe? Please let me know. I’d love to hear from you.
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
What a time of year, yes? The trees so full, the roses, oh the roses in full bloom. I have a weakness for lavender roses. I don’t know their names, but when I see them I swoon. (Not that I don’t swoon at other times whether I want to or not.)
La Luna this month in all her glory beckons me to think about faith. About the movement from hope toward faith. What do we believe in? I believe in the “sacrament of the moment.” I believe in the power of forgiveness. I believe in the boundless power of love. I believe in the power of gratitude that helps me walk through this life.
What do y’all believe? Please let me know. I’d love to hear from you.
84,000 blessings,
Rebecca
August 9, 2009
National Public Radio Interview
I am so excited to have been interviewed by NPR. If you'd like to hear this interview just click here !
