Forgive me if I write crap. I've been stuck, stalled, plagued by self-doubt, the voices of a not so distant past and fear of speaking my truth even if my voice shakes. I'm just going to forge ahead, dishing out crap when that's all I have until I find my voice again.
I'm also returning to what I know best - helping people feel better in mind, body & spirit. That is not social media marketing. My interlude into social media marketing came about in the ever changing tap dance of trying to make money and make someone else happy. I've learned since then that I cannot make anyone happy. I can only be true to myself.
For days I have been asking for inspiration, wisdom and guidance as divorce papers sit in the red, white & blue priority mail envelope on the table. It's the only thing I know to do when I don't know what to do. My saving grace is that I believe in not only asking but also in receiving. Miracles for me are not huge earth shaking events. They are subtle signs, symbols, people who come into my life, or Cosmic Postcards that create a shift in my consciousness.
This morning I took Dharma for her morning constitutional. Carrying around baggies of dog poo is not my favorite thing to do so as we walked back toward our apartment, I stopped at the trash station to throw away a bag. Sitting beside the dumpster, out in the open was a blue box that said, "Autobiography of a Yogi. 52 Cards & Booklet
I'm not normally a trash picker but I opened the box and the first card which read:
Always remember that you belong to no one, and no one belongs to you. Reflect that some day you will suddenly have to leave everything in this world - so make the acquaintanceship of God now.