Monday, Feb 1, 2016


Energy Musings.  Here.  Now.

Today, light a candle.  Light many.  Light them outside.  Light them inside.  And allow the light to bring with it purification and awareness.  A perspective once held needs to shift.  Not radically, only gently.  In the subtle shifting, we find a whole new meaning and understanding.  Often overlooked, subtle shifts are the stepping stones to the more obvious larger shifts.  They are equally important and completely vital.

Today, this week, those shifts wish to be noticed, acknowledged and encouraged.  Coming into greater and greater levels of subtle awareness, see what you can discover.  Away from the noise and commotion of the Big shifts that you might want or envision, can you appreciate and honor the subtle shifts happening every day in every moment around you. Can you further notice when you shift back from these subtle places as well?

Think of the body as an example. The blood that pumps through your veins, your heart, moment to moment.  This constant flux is happening in ever mili second of your life.  And yet, you might not see it as shifting… but it is.  How often do you stop and honor and thank your blood, your body, for its work, its cleansing its continual rejuvenation?

Make it a priority today to notice the subtlety in your body, your life, your awakening.  Light a candle for each thing you notice and say a prayer of gratitude.

Word of the day:  Subtle

Poem of the day:

Bluebell, The 
by Anne Brontë

A fine and subtle spirit dwells
In every little flower,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power.
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.

Yet I recall not long ago
A bright and sunny day,
‘Twas when I led a toilsome life
So many leagues away;

That day along a sunny road
All carelessly I strayed,
Between two banks where smiling flowers
Their varied hues displayed.

Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay the sea,
My heart was not so heavy then
As it was wont to be.

Less harassed than at other times
I saw the scene was fair,
And spoke and laughed to those around,
As if I knew no care.

But when I looked upon the bank
My wandering glances fell
Upon a little trembling flower,
A single sweet bluebell.

Whence came that rising in my throat,
That dimness in my eye?
Why did those burning drops distil —
Those bitter feelings rise?

O, that lone flower recalled to me
My happy childhood’s hours
When bluebells seemed like fairy gifts
A prize among the flowers,

Those sunny days of merriment
When heart and soul were free,
And when I dwelt with kindred hearts
That loved and cared for me.

I had not then mid heartless crowds
To spend a thankless life
In seeking after others’ weal
With anxious toil and strife.

‘Sad wanderer, weep those blissful times
That never may return!’
The lovely floweret seemed to say,
And thus it made me mourn.






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