Morning Blooms
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The Littlest Drops
Yesterday I started reading a book of a woman’s musings in the morning. Little did I know it was actually her Morning Pages practice. It was one of those moments where I reacted with, “Dang it! Why don’t I listen to myself?!” Earlier this year, after being introduced to Dean Wesley Smith’s method of writing,…
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Not Recognizing My True Self
I enter my Garden Home on the terrace by the fountain stream (or creativity stream). I’m feeling the stone steps beneath me where I’m sitting that lead down to the stream. Around me, the leaves of the trees rustle in the wind. I listen as I watch the water flow by. Sanat comes up behind…