Hungry Little Gods

What we believe—we become. How powerful we humans are; made in the image of God—little creators of calm and chaos, unaware of our inheritance, believing that we have God’s eyes instead of His ways. For a small god is still a god, and all gods hold the key. Hold tight to yours lest you forget your heritage, and wander aimlessly—forever afraid of being yourself—of walking alone.

You are connected to the invisible, that wide-open place of white-hot potential, where love whispers answers to your soul—if you will but hear them—great and transforming truths about your origin and destiny.

You are vast; yet you remain small, believing the gravitational pull of death and want, stale bread and dirty water—a prisoner of the grand illusion.

You tolerate your hunger, when you carry within yourself an invitation to a royal feast, prompting you to come and eat—gain strength, equipping you for the journey ahead.

I wonder at all things. All things! And sometimes I see a power within myself that takes my breath away. Circumstances teach me, challenge and wound me, yet there it is—a greatness that remains. It speaks from the smallest of places, drawing my attention from the shadows and ghosts—inspiring me to stand up in the middle of my frailties and believe the impossible.

How great thou art my friend the worm. How great thou art.

Sometimes, I experience stunning conviction, believing that my heart’s desires are my natural course—that my destination is programmed into my soul like a migratory bird—and that the important things hold a strength of their own; they can never fail me because they are laced, like shimmering threads of truth, throughout my being.

The things that I believe, I become—it seems like so much power for such a simple soul. But when I look to nature and see her generous metaphors all around me, I am thoroughly persuaded that the seeds of greatness are sown in ordinary soil.

It's On!

It’s a pretty day for living and I’m ready to take the stage. I’ve been quite sick for over a week now, but I believe today is different. The fog has lifted and my body feels like its old self again. I’m no longer aware that I have lungs. One needn’t feel their lungs, or their heart, throat, and ribs. These things should remain silent throughout the day, quietly attending to their tasks.

So I feel well, and I have a beautiful day at my disposal. It’s a working day for me but my job is often so pleasurable that I don’t even consider it work. I look at it as living. It wasn’t always so. I realize that I’m blessed right now. Poor. But Blessed.

My oldest daughter and I have a bit of a debate going on. She insists that my writing isn’t really work because I’m not being paid for it…yet. I tried to explain to her that one day I would be getting paid for the books that I pen right now. It’s a lot like a cabinet maker who spends months building a grand piece of furniture. Is he being paid for that piece as he builds it? No. But once it’s complete he will place it in his shop and wait for the right customer to come along…and then he will get paid.

She didn’t buy my argument and was dogging me; basically trying to get me to admit that I’m a contented slacker engaged in a happy hobby. Okay, she didn’t call me a slacker…but she implied it.

All of my life I’ve worked at various jobs. I’ve been an office worker, waitress, and factory worker. I’ve sold cars, candles, and Christmas decorations. I’ve been in human services for over a decade and spent the last three years of my life living away from home like a soldier. So now, thanks to a very supportive husband, I’ve been given the opportunity to work at what I love. I don’t know how long it will last but I intend to enjoy this gift and use my time wisely.

I shouldn’t let my daughter push my buttons. She got me so upset yesterday that I threatened to disinherit her. She simply rolled her eyes…seeing that my most valuable asset to date is the antibiotics prescription that I just got filled.

You wait and see kiddo! Someday I’ll be cruising on the Caribbean, with my good children, gorging on shrimp and cream puffs, while you’re clocking out for lunch and eating your words!

Be nice to Mummy. *grin

Boldly Inching Forward

Making dreams come true is like raising a child, or going to school. It’s a process; a process that sometimes seems complicated and agonizingly slow. I have no memory of ever saying to my kids, “Good morning…Wow! You grew three inches overnight.” And so it is with a dream. The progress is there, yet it is often indiscernible to the naked eye. It’s over time that the growth is detected, like looking in the mirror and discovering that you need another hair cut.
Dreams come in all sizes. I have some smaller dreams, like spending the day at a spa for the full diva treatment or never having to wash another window. Then there are the medium sized dreams, like traveling to Europe, or watching the Macy’s Day Parade from a warm hotel room as Underdog bounces happily past my window.
And finally there are my big dreams. I would like to be financially stable enough to write full time, spend summers with my family in Massachusetts, and have publishers fighting over my manuscripts.
At my age I have come to know that if any of my dreams are going to materialize it’s going to be up to me to make them happen. I’m the one with the power to make my dreams my priority and then to go after them. I know that all dreams don’t come true, and that self-doubt will try to sabotage my every effort, but if I give up before even trying, then my dreams are guaranteed to die before they are born.
I call the process of making my dreams come true “Climbing Mt. Everest.” Each agonizing inch that I climb strengthens me and is mine to claim. Sometimes the climb is much more fulfilling than the actual dream because pursuing dreams pushes me forward, and exposes me to new people places and things. It creates new life.
The best way to get unstuck is to find a dream and pursue it. It will stir up your life in ways you never thought possible! Life is about the journey, but life is never a journey, without a dream.