I sometimes forget…


I sometimes forget what it is to write without agenda or desire to persuade or dissuade… to write for the pure joy of writing. This morning as I walked along the battered shore of my beach and stared into the thick mass of fog that lay like a blanket upon the water. Nothing could be seen… only heard. It is amazing what one sense will do to compensate for the loss of the other. Early morning birds danced among the branches and serenaded my evolution along the shore. I picked up a piece of wood and then another…bit by bit the fog seemed to thin in spots and I could see just a bit father- but not clear to the other side. I took a breath and signed and realized that this is the way of the universe- that it shows us just what it wants us to see…selective bits at a time, rarely presenting the entire picture all at once.


Today I am ok with such an epiphany.

Today is for the stillness.

Today is for the chance to wipe clean the clutter in the mind.

Today is simply to joy and feel what transpires around me.

Today is in preparation to let go and to hold on again.


The next two months will be ridiculously busy for me and the blogs may become somewhat sparse. I am carrying a heavy course load this semester and have just lost my assistant to motherhood…that leaves me a staff of…me. With productions and research never ending-combined with school, the end game is nothing more than to make it to the end of March alive.


I can tell you that people and situations are being manipulated-redirected in their orbits into my path and that the cosmos continues to generously orchestrate my future from afar. The Cardinals that sang to me this morning remind me that my parents are still working within my life. Charley is ever at my side and I can feel his hand on my shoulder gently guiding his story to where it will do the most good. It will be a bit of a climb to bring it to the world- to do it right, but I am up for the challenge. Works of great importance do not just materialize on the scene and take the world by storm…they appear in a storm and then materialize.


Like a mother, I have given birth to the book- but not to the story- for the story was always Charley’s. I will see this book onto shelves everywhere- or available on Nook or Kindle and who knows- maybe Grim will finally get his wish to be in the movies! I can tell you this- you couldn’t make this _________ up if you tried. Truth really is stranger than fiction. Even though it will be published under full disclaimer- those of you still wandering from the streets of 1966 will know the truth and see through the veil of disguise.

Get out and enjoy the rest of the day.

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