Once upon a time a soul said to the White Source of Love, “Oh, how much I want to know how to deeply love and be loved. Can you teach me?”

My rustic cabin in northern Vermont has me living amongst the Amish until the leaves begin falling off the trees. The energy I release will remain here with the fallen leaves to rest within the cold of winter, reenergizing for rebirth by Mother Earth come Spring.

After leaving my partner, I spent the next seven months in a rental which was lovingly filled with the owner's Spiritual energy. Here I learned how easy it was to live alone, without all the materialistic things I once had and within my limited finances.

I was on my daily walk down the hill to Locarno and noticed the bees busy gathering nectar from the beautiful flowers. I began to think about how unknowingly these bees were also gathering pollen energy, which in its discreet way, was attaching to the bees.

I had been facing my traumas one at a time and healing them as I moved forward. But now, rising up out of the ground in front of me, was a cliff.

I have always wanted to make a drum. One winter the opportunity dropped in my lap.

I have been verbally abused. I have shared this with friends and several of them asked me to share some of the words that were said to me. Why did they need the words? Validation?

I can’t write. This WAS my truth.

Why did I think I couldn’t write? The first thing that jumps out at me is a teacher I had back in the 60’s.

I have accomplished many things in my life, but the one thing that alludes me, is being comfortable writing. It was my weakest subject in school and I avoided it whenever possible.