You know that moment when you have just scoured through every cupboard looking for the smallest sweet candy. All you want is to continue sitting cuddled into your chair with your nose in a great part of your book; you cannot bear to put it down.
As you search the kitchen drawers and cupboards all you find is a choice of cough drops and cinnamon drops and are not sure what year they were from; they don’t go bad do they?
Okay, so the cinnamon drops will do as you slowly take them one by one, reading word by word, trying to find out who the murderer is in the storyline. You think to yourself what are you doing not having one treat in the house for these moments? Note to self, add it to the grocery list.
You envision yourself in your story, you relate to the characters, you wish for others to die (come on we all do it). It is the one moment when your brain comes down, you relax your body is not in a fight and flighting moment and you are you.
You dream of a town, quiet, crisp leaves, the bakery’s, flower shops, the quaintness, the friendliness of a small town. You dream of being able to ride your bike without getting run over, not feeling congested all the time and of having a calm and soulful purpose while living there. You are completely emerged into the storyline as one of them. I have to say the sweater I’m wearing in this thought is very Murder She Wrote.
You are looking for the perfect spot to be balanced, one that puts a pep in your step, and provides you with a passion or fire inside. Like everyone I continue to analyze my dreams, look at if there are hidden talents and meanings and see what could be more me, what holds my passion?
I spent the past few days just listening to everything that has popped into my head. What does it mean? Are there things going on I need help with? What can make me feel better? What could be my pursuit? I recently just started to write them all down and at times have to giggle at myself with some of the thoughts that pop in and others I am fighting that inner critic.
Life has decided I needed to just stop, leave everything be and not have me think about a thing. I am okay with that, and it provides me with a complete emotional and physical break.
I never really looked at my relapse like that before. It’s as if I get to take the chalkboard eraser and wipe it all away and start again; start fresh.
The start will be slow and painful but over the next few weeks will ramp up into something great, plus it always gives me a new appreciation of what I have.
With that being said, a project we have been working on has come to light and twenty seven people will be able to improve their quality of life with wheelchairs. These individuals may have tried other avenues and unfortunately we’re not successful.
I cried at a presentation understanding completely what it meant to lose mobility. I had a dream, people believed in that thought, we found others, like minded and poof it is coming to full fruition and is feeling as if it’s magic; like it just happened.
This weekend I will convey my gratefulness to the powers that be in making things line up and I will venture back to the library and pay for my new book I just purchased as the pup decided she was going to enjoy it herself in other ways.
I wish you an amazing weekend of wonderful sweet treats and adventures. I believe I know what I am doing this weekend.
Love always the candy loving, sweet toothed, Woman in Process