Find Your Calling

Since the beginning of the year, I have been toying and experimenting with creating an illustrated discovery journal.  This is the entry I created today.  Each time I create an entry it feeds my artistic soul as well as giving me food for thought.  The hearts in this entry represent two practices that are important to me.  The first is the daily gratitude walk that I complete each evening.  The second heart symbolizes my yoga practice.  "Find Your Calling" should be the title for the next chapter in my life.  After completing my entry, I notice that I continue to ponder the meaning of the symbols I have chosen for my entry. In addition I refer back to my previous entries to see if there is a common thread or a message from my subconscious.  Seàrching for the unmistakeable touch of grace. 

Birthday girl

Reminiscing about past birthdays celebrations, 

From family celebrations at home,

To friends gathering and always having pizza 

at Pizza Hut, at Kid Zone, at Swim center, at Chuck E Cheese.

Making crafts and jumping on the trampoline

And sleepovers, always a sleepover.

As you prepare to head out on the town tonight, 

I smile because even though you are an old woman (according to you)

And getting ready takes on new meaning, 

And the food has become more sophisticated 

And the drinks powerful

And you and your friends have a designated driver, 

You still have your sleepover. 

Once upon a time

There was a beginning....

A middle....

And an end. 

That's my story and I am sticking to it. 

Audience

Who do I write for? 

When I write for me, 

It flows.

My hand can't keep up 

With the current of thoughts 

Spilling out of me

For an audience of one.

One and only me.

More than one,

And it comes in drips.

Like ringing out a towel, 

Waiting 

For one drop, 

Another, 

Hoping to connect 

The random

To create something of value to others. 

But what is the value for me? 

Who should I write for? 

Me. 

Problem solved.

Path

What are your dreams?

Caught off guard

I found myself thinking of dreams I have for my children.

Yet they must dream for themselves. 

Just as I must dream for myself. 

What are my dreams? 

And how does one start dreaming 

For oneself when nothing comes to mind.

Maybe tonight when I fall asleep 

the nightly dreams will illuminate a path 

to a hope and a dream- 

from memories of the past 

to snapshots of today

to the future me.

Until then...

I pray that my dream finds me

and points the way. 

Refilled

At the end of each day

Another opportunity

To reflect and celebrate

The gift of today.

Carving out time, 

Bundling up,

Lacing up,

And heading out the door, 

Stopping, gazing at the sky- awestrucked by the stars above, 

Breathing deeply, holding, exhaling, cleansing. 

Then meditating with each step, 

Pushing forward 

While looking backwards, 

Grateful, thankful, blessed, 

For the kindnesses encountered 

And my soul is refilled.

Sound

The sound of a door opening-

A quick creak.

As it replays in your mind,

Where, which door?

Anticipating,

Replaying again.

A seed of fear planted.

Looking up,

Noticing

Branches wavering,

Swinging

And 

then

SLAM! 

Another 

Cree eak...

Then Delight.

Realizing the wind is playfully visiting.