I Can See With My Eyes Closed

Photo taken by 1969 Apollo 12 - Sun emerging from behind the Earth

Shortly after arriving home tonight I retreated to a soak in the tub. My boys (hubby and son) were napping on the couch together. Restless sleep the night prior as we sent our daughter off on a church youth trip to New Orleans 3 AM this morning.

As I soak, I peer out the large window (Don't worry, nothing to see here. I am on the second floor and the window faces the woods) into the storm filled sky. It's raining and the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the window is soothing. I close my eyes and in a hue of bright pink I see the silhouette of the window and roof line. I concentrate on the image and realize, "I can see with my eyes closed." I wave my hand in front of my face, 6-9 inches away. The image remains, but the pink, that is the brightness of the sky, becomes dull and gray. As I move my hand closer to my face, the vision, gone.

I ponder on my new found blind vision and recount a conversation with my friend today. It was about how people are attracted to the "LIGHT", without really knowing it is light. Although there are some who purposely block out the light because they do not feel worthy or feel it will shine upon them, revealing their true selves. Even something as bright as the sun can be blocked out. Worse yet is when somebody does everything in their power to steal the light away from others.

When I closed my eyes and saw the silhouette it was the light that made it possible. So I have a choice, be the light or block the light. I will do everything in my power to be the light and shine so bright that allow others to see the light even when their eyes are closed to their worthiness and specialness.

My Best Advice on Giving Advice

Here's the best advice I can give about giving advice, "When you have the urge to give advice, stop and just listen."

Did you hear me? Ok , now I'm listening.

Go Play House

Before Little Tikes Deluxe Kitchen Sets there was my dad the cabinet maker, house builder. Thirty odd years ago, as a young girl my dad made my sister and mini kitchen cabinets with "formica" counter top with upper and lower cabinets.





We played house, tapping into our imagination, never far from our thoughts and vision at this young age. Our house was contained to a corner of our room- maybe only a 6'x6' world. Just imagine how easy it was to keep this area clean.







Preparing to go back home from our camper this weekend I was transported to my years of playing house. The camper, a small contained world of no television or computers gives room for laughter and play. I washed dishes in a "small" sink. I vacuumed carpet with a small handheld dirt devil. I disinfected a small toilet, which makes it harder for boys and men to hit the hole, if you know what I mean.Here's what I know now and knew as a little girl.

PLAY, just PLAY.

HUGE THINGS CAN BE CONTAINED IN SMALL PACKAGES.

MANY SIMPLE TASKS CAN ADD TO BE A WHOLE BUNCH.

I LOVE PLAYING WITH PEOPLE WHO LOVE EACH OTHER.

I am grateful for everything. I vow to approach my work as if I where playing because when I do it is so satisfying, wonderful where great things emerge.


Now........ for 30 seconds stop what you are doing, close your eyes and remember playing as a child.

Dare to Dream a Dream So So BIG

I close my eyes and what do I see? Yellow, red, blue and green. Mostly old- not new. I go to this place to do what some would call work, but we will call it something different. Women "play" here and get paid to do so. We will play hard. We will sweat and toil. We will cry and we will laugh. Our pay comes in many forms, giving and getting. Looks more like a home than a place of "business".

Lunch time.......I can smell it now. Fresh bread, fruit and maybe a treat. We will eat together.

Back to creating things for sale for our happy customers whom we inspire and help. Actually we are our own happy customers. Creating is our own therapy. We together have created a place we want to go and do our deeds.

I believe to the deepest core of my heart this is a true story, as dreams are real as real can be. The beating so loud it drowns out my fear.

I thank Dear Daisy Cottage for bringing an eye to my heart.