December 27, 2018  9:46 am

The turkey soup is simmering on the stovetop. It’s a slow cooking morning. There is no hurry, nowhere to go, no need to be other than what is and where I am. I am feeling that magical, elusive peace and contentment of a child in the holiday lull of Christmas and New Year. It is wonderful. I’m feeling the same warmth and security of my childhood’s New Year’s Eve in China. I am snug, drifting off to sleep, listening to the chatter of my mother, grandmother and ‘aunties’ as they tend the fires for the pasteries they’re steaming and deep frying.

It is a grey morning but it does not bring any grey thoughts or feelings. I’m breathing in the aroma in the air. Turkey soup is good for the soul. I’m reading Julie Cameron’s The Artist’s Way again. I’ve had many years ago but only got through the first few chapters. I came away with her morning pages and the artist’s date. I’ve never given either much practice though I have come to this space to tap out my words. I’m finding resonance this second time around. There is a time for everything. The time is right, now.

December 28, 2018  9:20 am

I can be so easily distracted, led astray by so much news and information that is out there – on the Internet. I’m sure much of it is not important, vital to my well being. What I need is to bring my attention back to my Inner Self. I probably have a whole pile of stuff in my database yet to be tapped. I am a collector/hoarder of unused everythings.

The days are slowly getting longer. I’ve reached beyond tipping point. I’m heading towards the light, away from the darkness. It hasn’t been that bad this year. It hasn’t been bad at all. Snow flakes are gently drifting down. I welcome the snow and its whiteness. It IS winter and there should be snow. It adds a bit of normalcy to our now strange world of melting winters and sizzling/freezing summers.

11:55 am

I am a woman with a short attention span. That span is getting shorter with the Internet grabbing pieces of it here and there. I’m not successful in snataching some of it back. My mind is astir as if by a witch’s broom. Maybe it is the weather. Too many negative ions in the air. Today I have not read any morning pages from Julie Cameron’s The Artist’s Way nor from Stephen Jenkinson’s Die Wise, or Wayne Dyer’s Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life. I’ve had Wayne Dyer’s on my bookshelf for many years and hadn’t realized it was based on the Tao Te Ching. Clearly it is a sign I need to mend my ways. But tomorrow is another day.


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