Morning Meds; 4 25 20
Hopelessness withers the soul.
If you suffer from depression, the most important path to find is one that will lead you to hope.
If you ask, you will find one.
Morning Meds; 4 25 20
Hopelessness withers the soul.
If you suffer from depression, the most important path to find is one that will lead you to hope.
If you ask, you will find one.
Morning Meds; 4 24 19
Freedom of choice and free will allows us to choose who and how we prefer to be.
Follow your whims and wishes, you don’t have to follow anyone else’s choices.
The things that make your heart smile point you in the right direction.
Morning Meds; 4 23 19
Transitioning stress is when, the who’s and what’s we were and the when’s and where’s we’ve been, catch up with the I Am we always are.
Morning Meds 4 23 22
Emotions are form.
Thoughts are form.
Consciousness is formless.
Unless it is converted to, transformed into, visualized as, some type of form it remains unseen and unnoticed.
Atoms are not seen; they are expressed and what they form allows them to be experienced.
We see the results of the wind.
We see what moves.
We see what it carries in the air.
We see the results of its passing.
We hear it as it moves through structures.
We experience Consciousness in the same manner.
We know our relationship with Consciousness by the forms we embody and express.
Morning Meds: 4 22 19
Sitting in the tidal pools of the ocean of Source located at our core,
we can let the stillness renew our spirit.
The healing stillness fills us with gratitude for our never-ending access to All There Is.
Morning Meds; 4 22 20
…. And the shaman said,
“Fear not, Little Crow.
If you seem lost, follow the drumming of your heart, it’ll always lead you home.”
Morning Meds; 4 21 19
It’s difficult for us to escape our house of mirrors until we realize we are in one.
Our thoughts and beliefs mirrored back to us; our creativity realized.
To see behind the scenes, we must exit the maze.
Our exit is the portal of our core, silently waiting within.
Morning Meds; 4 21 22
Bump, bump, bump, bump
I hear an ancient drum
my soul stills to listen.
I hear the shaman
her shrill cry singing
songs of long ago.
Lifetimes ago,
yet her energy remains,
reborn to remind me
of a simpler time
when nature and I were one.
Her voice then, was mine.
I sang my songs,
the drums still echo within.
Bump, bump, bump, bump.
Morning Meds; 4 21 22
For those who have talented six-year-olds who can draw well, but lose their . . .
let’s say composure when they draw something, and it doesn’t look exactly like what they’re trying to draw.
Perfectionism at any age can be so daunting.
Buy a used Modern Art book and show them how you can recognize something even if it’s not exactly real looking.
They will even put it in a book.
Works wonders.
As we went through the book one of the pictures was a nude by Picasso. He looked at me in shock and spoke. “He doesn’t even have her things in the right place!”
Morning Meds; 4 20 19
You can imagine a silvery liquid viewing pool at the edge of your core.
In it is the reflection of your present reality.
If when looking into your shimmering pool, you find it troubling, stir the water.
When the ripples settle, look again with new eyes.
Our perceived reality is just a reflection of our thoughts, opinions, past influences, and it is easy to confuse our reflections as the only truth.
Reinterpretations, reassessments, and creative changes to our point of view, opens the doors to new peaceful experiences.