Well, there’s one thing…they can’t order me to stop dreaming.
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Way up high, behind the morning mist and the peaks of winter evergreens, sits a little house quietly…waiting. But not to worry, for if you walk along the pine needle path, the soft one beside the riverbed and if you keep the fraying twist of smoke in sight, the one that unfurls like a weightless ball of string, you will find your way. It’s just one of those things that’s meant to be.
But bring a scarf and a pair of mittens or two. And maybe a few of your favorite things. Things? You say. What things? Hmm, let me see. Maybe a small tin of sparkles or your special flavored tea. Or maybe it’s that squishy thing that you could rub all day, or the feather that reminds you of your wings. What is it that warms your belly or your tongue, that gives your heart a giggle or your nose a happy twitch….you know, what gives you those feelings you pretend to ignore because they only happen oh so rarely these days? Go there. Yep, there, those. When you remember where to find them, well then, go there, get them, hold them tight. And when you do, plant them close to your heart.
Then when you walk, please, oh please, remember to mind your feet. For you see, those who have gone before haven’t always thought about those who will follow. So there will be jagged edges and sharp peaks and holes that seem to rage for miles. But if you mind your feet, you will know where to step. And your heart will have its happy so you will sing your way ahead. Safely. Wisely. With consciousness in your toes.
And if you ever find, as your walk along your way, that your path becomes murky or a cloudy shade of grey, then listen. Listen to the depth in the silence, for it will lead you. But if you have forgotten how, then here, sit down upon this solid rock, unpeel a layer of your favorite things and taste a precious nibble. Enjoy a piece of your sacred joy.
And the silence will speak. Of who you are and what steps you are next meant to take. I promise.
Not only that...
...if you are very quiet, you might even hear the winter evergreen whisper their age-old secrets. But you know, the few who hear them almost never choose to leave. They are the few that find their truth right there in the deepest wood, the wood that hides their deepest Self, the key to every mystery.
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Dream, she says. Dream as far and as wide and as deep as you can. This week and the next and the next and the next. For without your dreams, the you in You is nothing but a forgotten cottage tucked between the trees…