Art (seen of Facebook)

Contribution to writing Quota for the Day

It's been some time since I've written.  This includes journaling. It's said that writers should write everyday-- that "practice makes perfect" or "practice makes the master." It's said that waiting for inspiration is a faulty approach.  What if inspiration never comes?  And then there's the other side which points out that life, in and of itself, is full of inspiration, and said inspiration is therefore readily available to those who are paying attention.  So, this is my contribution to writing for this day.
Let me clarify.

I'm sure I will doing lots of writing today.  But let this particular entry count towards my creative writing quota for the day ;)

By the way

By the way, if I can be of assistance via oracle card readings, or distance energy healings, or both, please feel free to email me at breathspossibilities@gmail.com for details and rates☀ Hope your week is filled with countless , "I SO love this!"❤😃

Affirmation

From the Gaia oracle deck, sharing this card's lovely affirmation. Already started using it and have included a few other, "I am" statements ☀

"I am blessed/ I am protected/ I am grateful/ I am fulfilled/ I am love"❤

By the Way

By the way, wanted to say that aside from Oracle card readings, I also facilitate distance healings☀ If interested or for information about my rates, please do not hesitate to send me a message at breathspossibilities@gmail.com. Wishing you lots of, "How beautiful!" this week❤

Unsolved Mystery

The Vic lay there. Not moving. Hence the use of the word, Vic.

I looked around.

No sign of a break in, no sign of a struggle, no sign of foul play. The only evidence indicating anything out of the ordinary was the body on the bathroom floor. Actually, the body straddled the entrance way between the bathroom and the kitchen. 

I looked around again and, for the life of me, couldn't figure out what had happened. One thing I knew for certain was when I left the house that morning, that body-- dead or alive-- was not there. And now, somehow, there she or he (I couldn't tell from this angle) was, lying in a somewhat crumpled heap on the floor.

Had I met the Vic earlier, trespassing on private property, I would have escorted him or her out. Or, if that wasn't going to be possible, then I would, most likely, have still ended up with a body on my floor.

But I didn't do it. And since this was shaping up to be an unsolved mystery, I made the decision to get rid of it. 

I had no other choice. A dead body is a dead body and I would, most likely, be a suspect. 

As I made peace with my decision, grabbed some tissues and made my way towards the corpse, I found myself wondering about his/her family. 

Even if they were estranged and hadn't been in contact for some time, family was still family, right?

I wondered if they'd organize a search party. 

I hoped not.

It's one thing to have to deal with a corpse, but it's living relatives?Especially a family of spiders? Literally?

I'd really rather not.

From Radleigh Valentine's Facebook Page

By the way...

Dear Radiants, wanted to let you know that aside from Oracle card readings, I also facilitate distance healing ☀ For rates and further inquires, please do not hesitate to pm me. I genuinely love being of service in this way and if I can be of assistance, please do reach out. In the interim, sending brilliant beams of light and love from the heart☼ ♥  I can be reached at breathspossibilities@gmail.com

Trials and Kindnesses in an October Rain

Torrential, felt too inadequate a description. To her senses, it was as though the Heavens had flooded and had no other recourse but to drench the Earth below. 

The Earth and all its inhabitants, she thought, grimly, as she exited the store, three cumbersome bags in her left hand while struggling to open the umbrella in her right.

Not to be outdone, Mother Nature's other child, Wind, perfecting the role of Rain's fellow tormentor, insisted on wrestling aforementioned umbrella out of her grasp.

"I don't think so, buddy," she called out, sternly. 

When her ego pointed out there were others within hearing distance, she silenced it with, "Dude, the struggle is real."

Across the street she saw the first bus pulling away from the stop. Seeing a second take its place, she scurried through the crosswalk, adjusting her bags of double sized paper towels, two bags of lettuce and a gallon jug of distilled water. As a fleeting thought, she hoped the three milk chocolate bars of caramel clusters would survive the journey home, uncrushed. 

She then joined the queue to board, holding out for as long as she could before closing up her umbrella and resigning herself, reluctantly, to full exposure to the elements. When she wasn't summarily drenched as she had expected to be, she looked up and found herself under the protective canopy of another umbrella. 

It belonged to a kind stranger who smiled and made a remark about the rain. And though she laughed in reply, in truth, she was so surprised and grateful for his kind gesture, she didn't fully register the specificity and, therefore, meaning of his words.

She thanked him twice. Once, prior to boarding and paying the fare. And then again as he passed her on the way towards the back of the bus. He smiled again, assuring her it had been no problem at all.

For the remainder of the bus ride, two things played in rotation on her mind: the lovely, unexpected kindness of a stranger and the gentle encouragement to the grocery-bag-bearing left hand to hold on just a little bit more until they got to their stop.