You sowed your seeds long ago... yet each spring they bloom again. Take pleasure in the new growth, and be open to change.
You are never given just one chance. Do not give up if what you have planted doesn't take root. Often another seed from someone else's garden will drop in and blossom for years.
Allow yourself a season of rest, as that is the way of all living things. Recognize when something won't thrive, prune off the dead growth, and let go of the cluster. Embrace each stage, and don't try to plant too many flowers at once.
Sometimes, the greatest gift is when what flourishes is not something you planted. Trust in sunlight, and water and the miracle of every seed... all will manifest in your garden. JCK
This space has sat empty with no one to tend the store. A ghost town of words flying by but never grasped, as tumbleweeds - flashes of inspiration quickly lost to the desert wind. Taking pen to the crisp, blank page, or keyboard to ...white space yawning into endless possibility. One way, a thousand ways, no one more important than the other. Words are words whether they fly, drip or graze across the page. Fleet of foot, a sense memory of a time when verbiage exploded outward because it couldn't be contained. Where do they exist now? Behind bolted door? The creak of hinges grown rusty with disuse. Cloaking myself in a writer's hood I grasp tightly to that elusive star in the distance, that sweet spot, the pure, unadulterated joy of pushing words out into the ether.
Welcome to my blog Motherscribe! I write about parenting, feminism, marriage, and exploration of self. Occasionally I've been known to exist on caffeine, chocolate and the occasional whiskey...
MOTHERSCRIBE moth•er n. “A woman who conceives, gives birth to, or raises and nurtures a child. A female parent of an animal. A woman who creates, originates, or founds something. A creative source; an origin." //scribe n. “A public clerk or secretary, especially in ancient times. A writer or journalist."