Blueberry Surprise

I love the creativity that’s linked with cooking. I so admire chefs and people who just “whip something up” in the kitchen. I’m an okay cook, but nothing amazing. Yet I seem to be drawn to this form of creative expression. 

I was happy to draw this activity today:

Create a new recipe. 


This was especially serendipitous because late this afternoon, in between my last two appointments for the day, I visited Robertson Family Farm, south of Joplin, with my mom and sister, Linda. Grabbing buckets, we moved together in between rows of bushes, picking luscious ripe blueberries. 


Back home with three pounds of blueberries, I knew I wanted to create a dessert using these delicious berries. Tonight I assembled ingredients in the kitchen, realizing what I was really doing was creating a dish without using a recipe. 


I used to love standing next to one of my grandmothers, an oversized apron wrapped around me, watching as she cooked. I don’t know if I ever saw Granny Grace or Grandma Mildred use a recipe. I’m sure as young brides they must have. However both were seasoned cooks by the time I was old enough to pull up a chair to stand on as I watched them create their magic. They threw in a cup of this, a spoonful of that and a pinch of salt, or some aromatic spice, and the results were always wonderful. 

I, on the other hand, have always relied on cookbooks. Or more recently Google to pull up an online recipe for any dish imaginable. Other than recipes I’ve memorized through repetition, I haven’t had the confidence to throw a little of this and that into a bowl to get a delicious result. Tonight, I was determined to create, without a net…no recipe in sight, no Google search to save me. How hard could it be?

Here is my step by step process for Blueberry Surprise:


I started with 1/2 cup of fresh blueberries in a mug. I added a sprinkle of cinnamon and a small spoonful of brown sugar and mixed well. I deliberately avoided using standard measuring spoons. 


In a glass measuring cup I combined a heaping spoonful of baking mix (Bisquick is a common brand), a heaping spoonful of rolled oats, a small spoonful of brown sugar, two drops of vanilla and threw in a handful of chopped pecans. After mixing well, I cut in a blob of butter, stirring with a fork until the mixture was crumbly. 


I topped the blueberries with the oat mixture and popped the mug into the microwave. Cooking for 30 seconds at a time, I checked the dessert after each interval, watching for the blueberry mixture to bubble up. It did, requiring one minute and 30 seconds total cooking time. I have to say, the Blueberry  Surprise smelled wonderful. 

This was fun. This pushed me out of my comfort zone. I was tempted to reach for my cell phone and Google a recipe, to make sure I was doing it “right”. The perfectionist in me always wants my final result to be right. My inner artist, my creative child, snorts at that and whispers, “What’s the worst that can happen? So what if it’s a blueberry mess.” 

And that was the surprise part, in Blueberry Surprise. Would it be a disaster? Would it be edible? It was. It was delicious. I felt a bit like the little red hen, making something from food I picked myself. I learned tonight to let go of the outcome and perfection and rely on what I do know about cooking. I enjoyed not being precise. I chuckled at myself as I threw ingredients together. 

I could imagine my grandmothers standing with me, one on either side, smiling approvingly and giving each other a look. “She did it. She made a this and that dessert. Good girl.” They were my inspirations. I wish I could give each of them a taste of my yummy Blueberry Surprise. 

Harmonic Connection

I’m very grateful for today’s creative activity, and not just because on the surface, it appeared to be a simple one. Often, it seems, inspiration wears the guise of simplicity. 

I drew this slip of paper today: 

Add a new song to my iPhone playlist


Although I don’t have musical ability, I love music. I took piano lessons as a kid and again as an adult, and played the snare drum in the school band…and that’s the extent of my talent. However, music has the power to move me, deeply. When I’m cleaning the house, cooking, or alone in the car, I have music playing. 

Drawing this creative action was akin to being told to go shop in a clothing store where every item is the right size. In such a situation I would simply enjoy browsing, leisurely, until the right outfit attracted me. 

Late this evening I settled into my recliner, donned earbuds and asked for inspiration to guide me to a great new song to add to my iPhone playlist. Google was my friend. I typed in inspirational songs and scanned through the suggestions. I jotted down songs that drew me and then pulled them up on YouTube. 


The first song that touched my heart and made my soul expand was actually one I’m familiar with, but had forgotten about. I have the Prince of Egypt soundtrack on my iPod, and yet I realized tonight that it’s been a long time since I’ve listened to any of the songs. 

This is such a powerful song, and very fitting to counter the climate of fear that threatens to overshadow us all during these turbulent times. Listening to these lyrics…

In this time of fear, When prayer so often proves in vain, Hope seems like the summer bird too swiftly flown away. Yet now I’m standing here, My heart’s so full, I can’t explain. Seeking faith and speakin’ words I never thought I’d say. There can be miracles, When you believe, Though hope is frail, Its hard to kill.

…I decided that fear has often gripped the world, through the ages, for a vast number of reasons. These words remind me that though hope is frail, it is very hard to kill. And I carry hope in my heart, as do many others around the globe. 

This song, though not new to me, was promptly downloaded to my phone. Listen to it HERE

I still needed a new song to add to my iPhone playlist. After listening to several good songs, I was captivated by one I had never heard before. 

Colbie Caillat has a beautiful song written for women on her CD Gypsy Heart. Listening to Try for the first time brought tears to my eyes. Watching the video moved me deeply. Her song is about embracing who you are and not changing yourself to please others. She sings…

Wait a second, Why should you care, what they think of you. When you’re all alone, by yourself, Do you like you? Do you like you?

You don’t have to try so hard, You don’t have to give it all away, You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up. You don’t have to change a single thing. 

…reminding me that when I’m alone, by myself, I do like who I am. I don’t have to change a thing. I was thrilled to add this ballad-style song to my iPhone. Listen to it HERE

This seemingly simple activity turned into a joyful time of sampling songs and being uplifted by the power of music. I feel the connection between music and creativity. Even if I’m not writing songs or composing stirring symphonies, music inspires me and feeds my creativity, in whatever form it is expressed. 

I love what Robin Williams’ character says in the amazing movie, August Rush. 

“You know what music is? God’s little reminder that there’s something else besides us in this universe; harmonic connection between all living beings, everywhere, even the stars.” 

Music is everywhere. It abides within me. And even the stars sing. 



Becoming Poem

I selected a new creative activity today, after another break yesterday so I could write a Father’s Day post. When I unfolded the slip of paper I muttered “Oh boy”.  Not an excited “Yay I get to do this one,” oh boy. More of a “Why did I include this activity?” oh boy. 

I drew:

Write a short poem. 


I knew this one would challenge me. Although I have fun writing haiku, it’s been years since I wrote a poem. I added this creative action to push myself, to grow in my creativity. As I stared at the slip of paper, I wondered if I had made a mistake. At least I said a short poem. 

I wrote my early poetry around inspired thoughts. A line or two would come into my mind and I’d let inspiration flow. My last poem, written 16 years, was crafted around the thought, She stepped into eternity, hand in hand with God, immediately after my grandmother passed away. That poem was read at her funeral. 

I knew staring at a blank piece of paper, attempting to force inspiration, would not work for me. So I asked for inspiration to come. I truly did want to fire this arrow, timidly perhaps, but I chose to follow through with this action. In my Morning Pages, I wrote: 

I can always do a haiku or two, if I have to. For longer poems I need a line to inspire me, something to start the creative process. So I’m open to inspiration. I’m open to receive. I’m open…

And I went about my day, refusing to overthink the creative action. In fact, I pushed the activity away completely. But I stayed open…and receptive to inspiration. 

As I walked to my car, mid-afternoon, to run an errand, inspiration suddenly struck. The first two lines of a poem came fully formed into my mind. Before I drove away, I typed the lines out in the Notes section on my iPhone. 

I have learned to jot it down immediately when an idea or inspired thought arrives. While it is still so fresh, inspiration is fleeting. I won’t remember it later, accurately. 

By the time I parked at my destination, inspiration was flowing freely. I captured more of the poem, as it was forming, and completed it when I arrived home. 


I am very pleased with the poem, which reflects my  journey during the last decade, a journey that went inward before it manifested outwardly. And as a gardener, I love the reference to a flower. This little poem captures well who I am becoming. 

What I am most pleased about is that I rose to this creative challenge by opening myself up to receive inspiration. I had a choice between closing, and saying I couldn’t do it…or opening to see what would happen next. This became another arrow of desire that drew me beyond myself and what I thought was possible. 

I created a meme of my poem, using the WordSwag app and a little extra creative effort. In spite of my initial reaction, I’m so glad that I dropped that creative action into my glass pitcher. And I’m grateful for the opportunity to learn more about how inspiration comes to me. I’m remaining open. 

I am becoming. 

The Soul That Sees Beauty

As I was getting ready for the day, I put my walking shoes on. I just knew I was going to draw a creative activity that involved walking. As I’ve moved into the second half of the month, with 13 folded slips of paper left, I also knew there were still two walking activities in the pitcher. 

I drew this action:

Walk near water. 


It was a beautiful day for this activity. It’s been hot and humid this past week, but today was slightly cooler, less sticky, with a refreshing breeze. After working in the garden for a bit this morning, I headed to Wildcat Park this afternoon, to walk along Shoal Creek. 



I parked in my usual spot at the park, but instead of heading into the woods, I walked west along the paved trail that parallels the river. I do love being near water. The path was shaded and the walking easy. The breeze kept me cool and whipped my long hair into a frenzy. 

I ended up near low water bridge, where I walked this past January, at the beginning of this year of surrender. The only available picnic table was baking in the full sun, but I was okay with that, and sat with my legs stretched out, watching the river roll by. This was the spot where I took a selfie last January, as I gazed at the river, a stocking cap on my head. I snapped another pic, from the left instead of the right, my eyes once again drawn to the rippling water. In spite of the number of people playing in and near Shoal Creek, it was incredibly peaceful and beautiful there. 

It was as I was walking back the way I had come, that I realized no one else was using the trail. I could hear people splashing and laughing in the river. Families gathered around picnic tables in the designated areas. And there was the distant and incessant drone of traffic over a high bridge. But I walked alone along the river. 

My arrow of desire that I had launched drew my attention to how I felt about walking alone. I recognized the parallels between my afternoon stroll and my current journey. A few years ago I could not be alone, in any way, even though I am at heart a loner. I was too afraid. I was not present enough with myself. I felt scared and lonely if I didn’t have someone nearby. 


How differently I journey now. I am not afraid. I am very present with myself, aware of being drawn and guided, and of this delightful ongoing conversation with the Divine. If others choose to journey alongside me for a time, I am fine with that, and grateful. If I find myself walking alone, as I did today, I am fine with that, and grateful. 

During these times of solitary journeying, whether I’m walking beside the river or walking through life, I become much more attuned to what my heart and soul are experiencing and the beauty that surrounds me. I can go deep within, and then expand outward, noticing the turtles sunning on a log, the sound of birds singing in the trees, the musty scent of a fallen, decaying tree. I can sense the energy of all living things swirling around me. 



I left Wildcat Park feeling quiet joy. The water and the beauty of nature had cleansed away the busyness of the past week and allowed me a glimpse of how far I’ve journeyed in the past five years. 

At home again, as I checked my Facebook newsfeed, I saw a quote that confirmed the experience I had just had. 

“The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Those words were perfectly in alignment with my thoughts as I walked along the river. May sometimes walk alone…may sometimes walk with others, and either is fine. I’m surrendered to being open…and attached to nothing. 

No Airing of Dirty Laundry Here

I laughed as I drew today’s creative action. Apparently if I’m going to show some love to the most overlooked room in my house…the bathroom…I need to be fair and pay attention to the second most overlooked room in the house. 

I drew this slip of paper: 

Buy rug for the utility room. 


The utility room, also called the laundry room, is where the washer and dryer reside. As a realtor, I see all kinds of laundry rooms, from closets off of the hallway with a washer and dryer tucked inside, to spacious, elaborate rooms outfitted with the latest digital models, utility sinks, folding tables and an abundance of storage. 

My utility room was an afterthought in this old house of mine. A small back porch was converted into a very makeshift laundry space. Greg made the room more permanent looking after we purchased the house. Although it functions just fine, it still has the feel of a porch, with its concrete floor and door cut to fit the smaller than normal exterior opening. 

I’ve recently decluttered the room, tossing out plastic flower pots and an old vacuum cleaner that has been sitting in the corner for years. I added this simple creative action for the same reason that I included one for the bathroom…to prompt me to extend my creativity into these overlooked rooms. 


Back to Tuesday Morning I went today, when I had a few free minutes. Inspiration struck as I parked the car, and I entered the store knowing what color scheme I was going for. I wanted a small rug to cover the concrete floor and one to drape over the top of my serviceable but worn dryer. The two rugs above were very close to what I was looking for…until I read the label on the green, gray and black one. Dry clean only. 

My utility room leads out into the backyard, where my garden is. I need a rug I can toss into the washer after I’ve tracked dirt onto it. A rug that requires dry cleaning was not a good option. I turned to another table full of rugs, and there it was, the one I was searching for. Not only was the rug gray and white in color, it was washable! Immediately behind me I found a single metal basket on the shelf. I had carried a mental image of just such a basket into the store with me. I made my purchase, happy with my finds. 


Looking up laundry rooms, I discovered that people don’t appear to dream about them like they do bathrooms. There’s the obvious symbolism of cleansing and purification, and a connection to the expression, “airing dirty laundry”, which is the practice of making private personal matters public. However, I was not drawn in that direction. 

My arrow of desire led me instead to thinking about inspiration and how I receive it. Looking up the word, I liked this definition: 

The process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative. A sudden brilliant, creative, or timely idea.

In its earliest translation, inspiration literally meant Divine guidance. 

I embrace those definitions. Inspiration often comes upon me suddenly, and it is always connected to my creativity. I realized a few years ago that I receive inspiration as a visual download. As I sat in front of a flea market, thinking about a trunk I was about to create my first vignette in, I suddenly received a pictorial list of items, mentally: large metal stars, a rusty star garland, several sizes of green artificial Christmas trees, a pillow, and a vintage gas can. I found each of those items, exactly as I pictured them, within the flea market. 

Today, as I parked my car in front of Tuesday Morning, I received an inspirational download, just as I did a few days ago when I purchased the shower curtain and towels for bathroom: two gray and white rugs, a square metal basket. And I found those items, quickly. 

I can’t explain why inspiration comes to me in this way. I just accept that it does. And I act upon it. It is extremely important that I am faithful to take action on what I receive. I am showing that I am willing to be a receptacle for inspiration and that I desire to do something with what I receive. Could I choose something other than what I am shown? Certainly. But are the images that I receive perfect for what I desire to do, and are they available as I search? Absolutely. The process becomes a game, a scavenger hunt, a Divine dance. 

These thoughts were much more uplifting and encouraging than thinking about airing dirty laundry. That is a practice I don’t engage in. Rather, I choose inspiration, Divine guidance, creativity, the dance. Even when it involves choosing a new rug for my utility room. 

The Hedgehog

This was an exciting day, with a twinge of sadness, as the Arkansas house chapter concluded. Greg closed on his parents’ home and we drove away from there, knowing we would not see it again. This evening I returned to drawing a creative action from my glass pitcher, after taking a break yesterday so I could celebrate my grandson with a birthday post. 

Late in the day, I drew this activity: 

Color whimsical animal in EF. 

Again, the perfect arrow to fire after another long day. I was delighted. 

EF stands for Enchanted Forest, a coloring book by Johanna Basford. Within the book are whimsical animals and scenes from the forest. I so enjoyed coloring one of the animals recently, a rabbit, that I looked forward to completing another one. I chose the hedgehog. 

The first whimsical creature that I colored. 

I love these creatures! They are animals morphing into leaves. Or at least, that’s how I viewed them originally. As I colored on the hedgehog tonight, my perspective shifted. I saw that it could be that the enchanted plants in this magical forest may be transitioning into animals! 

Coloring is meditative for me. It slows me down, centers me, restores balance. As I completed my little hedgehog, I felt rested, as if I had taken a nap. My thoughts turned toward the creative activities I’ve drawn this past week, seemingly at random, and I saw the perfection in my journey. 

 Rilynn photo bombs the pic as she checks out my coloring. 

Many of the creative activities that I wrote out and dropped into the pitcher require time to carry out. Although they are intended to be completed within the day, some could take several hours to finish or may necessitate leaving the house. I have already marveled at drawing a rainy day activity on a day when rain was falling. Or selecting one that required me to give away items as we were preparing for a yard sale. 

To draw the coloring activity this evening, so late in the day, amazed me and deeply touched me. I see everything that comes into my life as an ongoing conversation with the Divine. Drawing activities that so perfectly align with the amount of time I have to do them, and the physical ability that I have at that moment to perform them, is part of that conversation. 

The Divine is saying to me, through these simple playful activities written on folded slips of paper, “I see you. I’m aware of you. I’m aware of the day you are having/will have/had. Will you trust me?” 

I answer “I do…” every time I reach into that pitcher, to see what I will draw.  When I began this month this was a creative exercise, something fun to do. I have learned so much about my journey, and how life works for me. I feel humbled and grateful for this time of surrender. It has raised my awareness and deepened my trust. 

This little hedgehog, who is becoming something more as he journeys, became my symbol tonight for this amazing month. Every time I look at him, I will think about what I am learning and who I am becoming as I journey. I named my hedgehog Junebug. 

The Most Overlooked Room in My House

I confess that I was strangely excited to draw this creative action today. I only have three activities that involve buying items for my house or garden. Shopping is not something I enjoy or engage in often, unless it involves buying gifts for my family. So I wasn’t sure why I included activities that required purchasing an item, but I got some insight on that today. 

I drew this slip of paper:

Buy a new shower curtain. 


Yes! Even I was a bit bemused by my reaction, but I looked forward to picking out a new shower curtain nonetheless. It was a busy day, however I took advantage of a 30 minute lull to stop by one of my favorite stores, Tuesday Morning. This shop receives close outs and overruns, every Tuesday morning, and sells them at deeply discounted prices. 

Although I was open to suggestion, I had a particular color in mind for this shower curtain. I tend to use earthy colors in my home…beige, rust, green, yellow, red…fall colors primarily. My bathroom is tiny. My house is old, built in the late 1800s. Bathrooms were not the spacious rooms then that they are in today’s newer homes. Because this small space has just enough room for the essential fixtures, I’ve used very neutral colors to help visually expand the area. 

I’m ready for a change in the bathroom, for a pop of color that makes me smile and refreshes me, while not screaming at me. The walls are painted a color called Bay Sand, which, depending on the light, can look beige, grey or pale green. The trim is bright white. 

As I stood before the selection of shower curtains in Tuesday Morning, I didn’t see the color I wanted. I had hoped for a medium turquoise or an aqua blue. I was considering between two other possibilities when I noticed  packaged curtains strewn across the bottom shelf. Digging through those, I find my curtain, the only one that was the color I desired. It was hiding from everyone else, waiting for me to claim it. 

I picked up a few hand towels and bath towels, to carry out this color change in the bathroom, along with a new rug for the floor. I left Tueday Morning very happy with my finds. 

The creative activity done, I followed this arrow of desire, to see where it led. I realized that there are two rooms in my house that I don’t really like. One is the bathroom. It’s so small, with no storage, and two doors eating up wall space. There’s a great deal of charm in my old home and many things that I love about it. But that love doesn’t extend to the bathroom. I’ve neglected it, creatively. It’s time to show it some love. 

I felt compelled to look up the symbolism for “bathroom”, which led me to interpretations for dreams about needing or using a bathroom. Interestingly, some of our silly dreams about using a toilet that’s out in the open or not being able to find a bathroom when we need one, reveal truths about ourselves. Needing a bathroom and not finding it indicates a need to eliminate distractions and pressures from life, or that you’ve postponed your own wishes for too long. It can also mean you are unable to get rid of a problem. 

Using a toilet that’s out in the open, with no stall or walls even, is symbolic of not having enough privacy or alone time. Or it can indicate that something that is very private and personal is being exposed. On the other hand, using a toilet while no privacy is offered, and not being bothered by that in your dream suggests you are a confident person with nothing to hide. 

I feel a new sense of respect for my tiny, overlooked bathroom…respect that could blossom into love. I’m excited to begin the transformation and find ways to express my creativity here without overpowering the room. 

Now I anticipate drawing the slip of paper that relates to the other unloved room in my house. I wonder what I will discover about my utility room? 

From Tray to Wall Hanging

Now that the house in Arkansas is mostly emptied and the big sale is history, it is time to sort through the mementos that I’ve decided to keep. I don’t like to shut an interesting item away in a closet where I can’t  see it and enjoy it, so I attempt to integrate these treasures into my d├ęcor. 

Today the slip of paper that I drew was a gentle nudge to put my creative cap on and get started. I selected:

Use a vintage item in a new way. 

 

I have boxes of vintage items in my house at the moment! This afternoon, it became a question of which vintage item to repurpose. It didn’t take me long to settle on a wonderful old metal lap tray. Originally manufactured in the 1970s, Greg found this exact same tray in an Etsy shop online priced at $42. 

I uncovered four of these beauties. Both of my daughters took a tray home. And I have two…one to keep and one for my son or his daughter, if either would like to have it. 

For quite some time, I’ve wanted to create a tea corner in my kitchen. As I held the tray and considered how to use it in a fresh way, an idea came to mind. 


I completely cleared the table in the corner and started with a blank surface. The yellow tablecloth, which belonged to Greg’s mother, brightened the space immediately. My 3 tiered serving set normally holds the refreshments during a formal afternoon tea. It works nicely for a collection of vintage tea cups. 

Out of the cupboard came my white porcelain tea pot and a milk glass sugar bowl and creamer set. My mason jars of loose tea and wooden teaspoons completed the table top. The vintage metal tray looks gorgeous hanging on the wall and ties everything together. I can easily remove it and unfold the legs if I wish to press it back into duty as a tray. 

I love how this project turned out. My tea items are grouped together cozily and my eyes are drawn to that bright corner. I feel my spirits lift just looking at it. These vintage pretties bring me joy and make me think of Leta Moore, who was a tea drinker and shared that tradition with me

This was a great way to express creativity today. And I was reminded that I’d rather use an item than hide it away. This truth goes beyond displaying vintage pieces. I can hide aspects of myself as well, tucking away my gifts and quirks, until they are nearly forgotten or begin to fade from lack of use. My ability to sketch is an excellent example of what can happen. 

Today’s arrow of desire led me within, to my own inner closets and dusty boxes full of packed away talents. As I move through my house in the days to come, finding fresh and interesting ways to display cherished treasures, I can search inward at the same time. 

What tucked away facets of myself will I uncover? It will be exciting to discover equally fresh ways to see myself and use my gifts. 

Series Review: Doctor Thorne

This was a much appreciated day of rest. Showers rumbling through the area presented the perfect excuse for staying indoors and relaxing aching muscles and a weary body. 

I drew another perfectly timed creative activity:

Find a new creative series to watch on Amazon Prime. 

I enjoyed watching the Amazon Prime series Mozart in the Jungle so much. I’m caught up on Mozart, and I was excited to draw this arrow of desire so that I could find a new series to watch. 

Doctor Thorne, based on the novel by Anthony Trollope, stars Tom Holland, Stefanie Martini, Harry Richardson, Rebecca Front, Richard McCabe, Alison Brie, Ian McShane and Phoebe Nicholls. The historical drama is directed by Niall MacCormick and each episode has a run time of 48 minutes. 

The setting is Victorian England. Julian Fellowes, who created Doctor Thorne, is also the creator of Downton Abbey. 


Episode one introduces Dr. Thorne (Holland) and his young niece Mary (Martini). Mary has lived a simple and happy life with her uncle. However, life becomes more complicated as she enters her 20s. She has grown up interacting with the Greshams next door, who until now have overlooked her lack of family and wealth. 

But when Frank Gresham (Richardson) shows romantic interest in Mary, his parents, Sir Gresham (McCabe) and Lady Arabella (Front) are appalled. They insist that Frank marry for marry, to save the family home and name, and to pay off enormous debt owed to scoundrel Sir Roger Scatcherd (McShane). 


Frank is sent to his match-making aunt, the Countess de Courcy (Nicholls). She encourages Frank to pursue a wealthy young American woman, Miss Dunstable (Brie). Missing Frank and realizing she isn’t considered worthy of marrying him, Mary confronts her uncle about the mysterious circumstances around her birth. Is she truly a Thorne? And what happened to her mother and father? 

This was a fun period piece to watch this evening. While a Victorian era series can be heavy on the drama, Doctor Thorne has a great cast of interesting characters who interject humor into normally serious situations. I was captivated and look forward to watching more episodes. 

The best way to enjoy an English series…with a cup of hot tea. 

As I thought about tonight’s episode, I wondered why I am drawn to these shows that are set in the past in England and Scotland.  This is the target the arrow of desire urged me toward. 

Historically accurate, or not, what is central to all the stories that I love is a strong female character. In spite of expectations from family, friends and society, she is in the process of discovering who she is and living as that person, which means she is unconventional. 

Often there is more to the woman than she yet knows, which is certainly true about Mary Thorne. The journey becomes seeing and accepting herself as the person she truly is. In the great stories the heroine usually discovers that she is actually a princess or an heiress. 


I have yet to discover that either of those two things are true for me! But my journey has been about seeing and accepting myself for who I am as well. It has been about owning my uniqueness and banishing my fears and limiting beliefs. I identify with these strong female characters because I recognize that our journeys are similar, and crucial for reaching that most sought after gift…a happily ever after. 

I can say that I have that. I have found the happiness that I sought. It was within me all along. My journey now is to live fully in that joy and happiness and walk alongside others. 

I’m looking forward to seeing what Mary Thorne discovers on her journey. 

Dream, Dream, Dream

After two long and busy days, that were also fun and rewarding, I was extremely grateful for the creative action that I drew. I’m low energy tonight and I needed an easy activity. 

I selected:

Create a dream jar. 


In a few minutes, I had a simple jar crafted and ready to be the receiver of my dreams. A dream jar is exactly what it sounds like…a receptacle for dreams, wishes and hopes. Although any dream can be dropped into the jar, from huge miraculous hopes to small easily attainable wishes, I am focusing on dreams that challenge me a bit while remaining doable. 

I confess that immediately after I wrote out this arrow of desire and placed it within my glass pitcher, I questioned why I had included it. I almost fished the folded paper out to replace it with another creative action. I thought about why this evening. 

A dream jar seemed very similar to what I was doing already with the 30 arrows of desire. However, I get it now. There’s not much difference between a desire and a dream. But my arrows are focused primarily on creativity as I journey toward a more creative and artistic life. 

The dream jar is focused on movement of any type, toward living out my highest and best wishes for myself. I realize that drawing out daily creative activities, which I have enjoyed and learned from, has seeded the creation of a dream jar. 

As dreams, wishes and hopes come into my awareness, I’ll jot them down and drop them into the jar. Tonight I wrote out Learn helpful words and phrases in Italian. This will be an action step that I can take toward my 2017 dream trip to Italy. 

I’m not sure yet how often I will reach in to randomly select a dream. I’m open to the possibilities. I may let the dream papers accumulate for the rest of the year and let this activity be part of next year’s journey. 

Henry David Thoreau said, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined.”

This is me, going with such confidence in the direction of my dreams.