Hey fam, how are you ?
Not a public holiday in sight this week so it was a full weeks work for me but somehow it flew by anyway. Glad this morning though for the gorgeous sun streaming in, plentiful coffee, hot water for a longish shower (if I get in before the kids) and a chance to eat lunch outdoors in the fresh air.
Your turn. What are you looking forward to today?
As always I hope these few words and reads will be fresh air and kind company as you enjoy your weekend – – –
A Good Word
A Good Look
” – – – – – As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth”. Hosea 6:3
“Sunrise at Shellharbour Pools” Photo by Emily King. You can see Emily’s gorgeous photo’s and artworks here
A Good Idea
A while ago I had the thought of working at a bookstore, but I thought the timing was wrong or it wasn’t what I was “meant” to do.
And then time passed and the moment came where I thought – why not just see?
Here is what I know to be true in life: what is “meant” to be is alive and ever-changing.
It blossoms and it grows roots, it goes fallow and falls back into the earth.
We are meant to be in movement, growing and blossoming, repairing, changing, blossoming again.
I’ve grown so much in the almost 9 months of being in (the bookshop), sharing reading and coffee and Christmas decorations, friendship and new reads and that time six books fell off a shelf and onto my head – and I can’t wait for what the next seasons bring.
A Few Good Reads
From Verify Mag
Since I was a ten-year-old peddling my homemade cookies on the sidewalk in front of our house, I’ve considered myself a creative person. Creative work in its various forms has always deeply fulfilled me.
Fortunately for everyone, as I’ve gotten older, my creative pursuits have looked less like selling overpriced lemonade-stand snacks and more like writing—something I’ve always found enriching and life-giving.
This past year, we welcomed our second baby in under two years, after a high-risk pregnancy and traumatic premature delivery. With limited time and even less energy, creative side projects were first on the chopping block. But as my baby turns a corner developmentally and I’ve found a bit more margin, I’ve begun to write again – – – – –
When I was 22, I decided to take BART into San Francisco to wander the city on a brisk, fall Friday. This wasn’t just any Friday: it was the day my divorce was legally final, after six long months of waiting, and a year filled with anger and terror and the deepest sadness I’d ever known. I’d married the wrong person too young, and thankfully, I’d gotten out. I was both heartbroken and relieved that it was over.
I told everyone I was going to San Francisco to celebrate, but really, I was desperate to be lonely in a different city—a place that didn’t feel haunted by what I thought my life should be. I was angry all the time, and I’d started telling anyone who would listen that love didn’t exist, or that if it did, I didn’t want anything to do with it. I’d had the proposal and the party and the magazine-ready milestones that allegedly defined love. None of it meant a damn thing.
When the train doors whooshed open at the fourth stop, a couple boarded. I peered over the pages of my book and watched them select a seat directly across from me. The man was tall and muscular, dressed in all black
friend Gleniece Arizona
That’s all for now friends. Have a beautiful weekend. Rest up. Do something you love xx