It's All About the Journey

Today is your future. Live in the moment!

Taking Hold of Your Moment

The soul gives itself, alone, original, and pure, to the Lonely, Original, and Pure, who, on that condition, gladly inhabits, leads, and speaks through it. Then is it glad, young, and nimble. It is not wise, but it sees through all things. It is not called religious, but it is innocent. It calls the light its own, and feels that the grass grows and the stone falls by a law inferior to, and dependent on, its nature. Behold, it saith, I am born into the great, the universal mind. I, the imperfect, adore my own Perfect. I am somehow receptive of the great soul, and thereby I do overlook the sun and the stars, and feel them to be the fair accidents and effects which change and pass. More and more the surges of everlasting nature enter into me, and I become public and human in my regards and actions. So come I to live in thoughts, and act with energies, which are immortal. Thus revering the soul, and learning, as the ancient said, that “its beauty is immense,” man will come to see that the world is the perennial miracle which the soul worketh, and be less astonished at particular wonders; he will learn that there is no profane history; that all history is sacred; that the universe is represented in an atom, in a moment of time.

The Over-Soul, Ralph Waldo Emerson

We carry God with us.

I will calmly front my day carrying God with me and the whole future in the bottom of my heart.

Photo:  Our Perennial Earth…


If you would like to read more from this moment in our time for your own inspiration, you may find it at


Getting Caught Between the Moon and New York City

…the best you can do is fall in love…

It’s the light. We are attracted like moths to light.  Our hearts want/need light.  And a little magic.

Brooke and Me-6421

(No pictures on file of New York City though…will have to correct that…!)

My Vacation

Vacationing in the “deep south,” Brisben, New York, enjoying a vacation from my ordinary lifestyle.  We’re here in the woods, just outside of town, and I never quite realized how much closer the stars are here in Brisben, New York.  I almost touched them, last night when the dog and I went out to check out the evening air (and find his dutiful spot in the deep deep snow).  I wish I could have pictured it, but had chosen no equipment to bring, and I don’t think I could quite capture this beauty, the way I could see it with my eyes.  Each constellation stuck out brilliantly (Orion is my favorite, perhaps because he is always so obvious!), and I felt “mad” with excitement.  Only the bitter bitter cold kept me from staying out of doors (the slated -29, although not confirmed at that particular moment, kept me and the dog at bay and in by the noisy coal stove), donned in my finest flannel, my big purple boots that belong in a museum (they are so old), and warm down coat.

I guess Ralph Waldo would be/could be proud of his student here, instead of writing (which I’m doing now because of that “need to share”), I just took part with the nature, which is his intention that every person become a true part of the nature, hence, nourishing the soul.