The Night Faery

"The hush of night and pale moonlight beckon you to seek their mysteries, and you heed their call. The darkness is your haven, free from prying eyes and their judgements. Magic rules the night and comes alive in the shadows. Here your spirit glides on moonbeams and your wings are caressed by whispers in the wind, and all is as it should be for the Night Faery."
My Creation Word for 2011
Happy New Year!!!
Image via WikipediaReleasing 2010
I’m not sure where I found these questions. but I know it was in an online newspaper some time this morning. As I always use the last day of the year to clean up, clean out and finish as much as possible, I thought this was a neat project to work on to complete my year. That way I can release to receive, empty to fill.
- What were my biggest lessons in 2010?
That it can all change in an instant ….
- What am I most proud of from this past year?
My son and how he has progressed in his learning …
- What were my biggest disappointments in 2010?
Losing work …
- What am I ready to let go of from this past year?
Holding onto the past …
- What else do I need to do or say to be totally complete with 2010?
I am done …
What about you? Do you have a ritual or a tradition that helps you to evaluate, to intend, to release?
Wishing you all a new year filled with Peace and Love, Bliss and Joy!!! ~Maria
Wishcasting
Image by AlicePopkorn via FlickrThe work of self ...
Image by Gurumustuk Singh via FlickrNow here is a thought to ponder ..."If you are willing to look at another person’s behavior toward you as a reflection of the state of their relationship with themselves rather than a statement about your value as a person, then you will, over a period of time cease to react at all." --Yogi Bhajan
Wishcasting
The Sin of Omission by Margaret E. Sangster
Image by anniebee via FlickrIt isn't the thing you do, dear,
Its the thing you leave undone
That gives you a bit of a heartache
At setting of the sun.
The tender work forgotten,
The letter you did not write,
The flowers you did not send, dear,
Are your haunting ghosts at night.
The stone you might have lifted
Out of a brother's way;
The bit of heartsome counsel
You were hurried too much to say;
The loving touch of the hand, dear,
The gentle, winning tone
Which you had no time nor thought for
With troubles enough of your own.
Thoes little acts of kindness
So easily out of mind,
Thoes chances to be angels
Which we poor mortals find~
They come in night and silence,
Each sad, reproachful wraith,
When hope is faint and flagging,
And a chill has fallen on faith.
For life is all too short, dear,
And sorrow is all to great,
To suffer our slow compassion
That tarries until too late:
And it isn't the thing you do, dear,
It's the thing you leave undone
Which gives you a bit of heartache
At the setting of the sun.
Christmas Day Breakfast

Ingredients
- 1 pkg. Jimmy Dean® Italian Flavor Pork Sausage Roll
- 8 eggs
- 3 cups milk
- ¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
- 8 cups French bread cubes (3/4-inch pieces)
- 2 cups (8 ounces) shredded Italian cheese blend, divided
- 1 cup fresh sliced mushrooms
- 1 tomato, seeded, chopped
- ½ cup chopped green bell pepper
Directions
Yield:
What are you thankful for this holiday ...
By the Water
I made a lot of decisions sitting on the edge of the sand and quite a few more on the pier. The edge of the sand was where I decided I should take an adventure, not the first but certainly one of consequence. I remember the day was a gray day, cold and misty, maybe soon to be wet. I brewed hot coffee early and brought it with me in a thermos, I went down that simple road slowly to my favorite place at the edge of the sand. The mist felt good, just enough to feel, not enough to be wet. In this place you always were prepared with a slicker when the day was gray. It was high tide, the water was close, waiting for me, greeting me. I thought about how I might miss the water so I spent time with it. I watched the charcoal color flow and break in a white flurry. The stately homes with elegant gardens and fabulous views across the road behind me frowned in the gray.They would eventually recede in memory and so would the people. I didn’t spend time on it. As I sat and thought, the grey started to lift, a brightness appeared, a flock of Gulls took off, the water changed color, the homes no longer frowned and I knew it was coming, I knew what I would do.
Letters to my Son
Dear Son,
As I think about where I should go, what I should do, I think about the story of my life. My story. I wonder if someone were to write a story of my life if it would be the same one I have in my mind. I don’t know if I’ve been bold enough to proclaim my life so loudly as to have just one story. I don’t even think I could write my own story because it seems as if I’ve had so many lives. So I think if several people were to write about my life, they would all be different stories and all would be different than the story I would tell. But really, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stay true to yourself,
Mom
Letters to my Son
“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” Louis L'Amour
Each time I look at you I see an incredible person … you are just a boy but you are growing in so many ways. Part of me would like to keep you as that little toddler who would ask me if I wanted to have coffee, even that cute grade school kid who could make anything from Legos. But I can’t, you have to continue to grow and really, I think you are going to be something special. Each time I look at you I learn something new, I see a new beginning. I think … no, I know how important it is for me to remember how fate works in ones life. The only way I could been your Mom was to take an adventure and let it unfold. Your spirit was waiting for me in New Mexico and maybe, just maybe, that is why I feel so connected to that place. I became a better person there and I know son, I’m a better person because of you. I also think that everything has happened exactly the way it was meant to happen even my parenting you alone. Even though it’s just been the two of us, you must always remember that it was two people that made that waiting spirit come alive and however you end up of viewing that as an adult, I did what was right for you.
Love always,
Mom
Centering Hint by Tom Crum
Letters to my son
I’ve been thinking about buying a journal where I can write to you. Then I thought about using my blog to do that because it will be (hopefully) still there when I am gone. I’ve written journals before. I’m sure you’ll find them someday. I’m not much good at writing for the public anyway. And there is so much I want to tell you and I’m afraid I won’t remember everything or I’ll be caught up in some other event that causes me to not tell you all the things I want you to know. So really, you don’t have to know them at all, it’s not like you have to study this and take a test. Take what makes sense to you and keep it in your heart, pass other things on if you want, discard what doesn’t resonate with who you are. Be who you are … maybe that’s what all this is about. I want you to be the person you are meant to be not a clone of me or anyone else.
You know, it’s a bit chilly today. We are living in New York now. I had wanted to move back to New Mexico from South Carolina and had everything planned to do so, right up to three days before the moving van was to arrive. Then the company that served me so well exploded, the investors pulled out, there was no money to pay anyone and I was left with no work. I made the split second decision to turn the truck around and head to New York where we have family. Thankfully, the owner of the moving company is an old friend from high school.
After arriving here, I was so unhappy that I could not be where I wanted to be. Others, in their way, wanted to advise and guide and know and insist which caused more unhappiness. That manifested itself as sadness, seclusion from others and sometimes arguments with the very people who meant well. Part of that is because I am happy to run my own life. I can’t abide trying to live like someone else just ‘cause they think it’s best for me. You can only do what your heart and mind tells you is best for you. Nothing good ever comes of wearing someone else's boots. I’ve always been my own person and I hope you will be too.
There’s a lot that my family doesn’t know about me and perhaps I like it that way. Some because I’ve lived away from them since I graduated college, going on 30 years now. Maybe that’s what causes the divide. There’s also a lot they don’t know because they chose not to know and because their egos can be as big as a harvest moon. There was a time when I wanted them to know everything about me but that stopped when I was around the age you are now. That event helped to mold the person I became but that is not important to anyone but me, nor can I define it as either good or bad, it just is. I know it drives you a bit mad when I do not buy into their perspective but there is much you do not know nor do you need to know now, maybe in time.
For the first time in my life son, I’m struggling. Some would say I’ve struggled through two divorces and some hard financial times but really that is nothing compared to this struggle. I’ve always bounced back, been resilient. I’ve been proud of those qualities and they have served me well. This struggle though … this is my struggle to strike a balance between what is the right for you and what is right for me. I’m sure it will be a while before I figure the lay of the land and probably will pen many more letters to my son. You’re all I’ve got boy. Chances are you won’t read these letters until you are much older and maybe you’ll never read them at all.
I do the best I can as a parent alone and I’m proud of the man you are becoming. I think I’ve done a pretty good job. Then again, I’m sure God saw I was going to be alone so I was given a very special person … you. Keep on doing your best, look up at the stars and visualize your dreams, see them, touch them in your mind and make them your reality. When I was a teenager I came across a poem that I had printed up, framed and put on my wall. Over the years and with many moves, that print has been long lost but not the poem by Rudyard Kipling.
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
There is still a lot of music in my heart … I have so much more to give and I have more to say but I’ll stop here for now. Just know at this moment in time I am overflowing with love and pride for you…that funny, sweet kid of mine.
Love ya’
Mom
Jean Johnson; Food can't get any better












