Late and On time

Most of the things that I have accomplished in my life have come at a later time in my life. For instance, getting my degree, having a child, my desire to know thyself and to watch others. I have taken the time to really get to know what my purpose is and so my path has been set.

When I think about how people plan their lives according to their time clock I often laugh. Oh, I will get marry at this time, have a baby at this time, buy a house, blah, blah, blah. I guess for some things it's good to have a plan, but life is such a big canvas and has so many avenues and curve ball's how can you really plan. It seems more like hope. And besides when you have God in your life, you need to understand his plan. The universe has a way of destroying your plans and making you take another look at your little planned life and at who is really in charge.

God's timing in my life could not have been more perfect. When you truly let go and let God, there is nothing that you can not do. There is nothing more perfect when your plan coincides with that of a higher power. Nothing can break your path, whatever you have coming to you, will come,and above all it will come with ease.

I will probably marry late, have another child late, and live my best years later in my life, but to me all that will be on time and in perfect unison with what life has planned. I love it when things just come together.

Love yourself unconditionally, live in the truth and send out good vibes. The next time someone say's oh you are so late with that, or you should be here in your life by now, just smile and say, "I am right on time".

Live,Love Laugh!

My Book is here!!!!

Pick up Please Don't Date Me-100 Reasons Why at www.amazon.com or barnesandnobles.com

Thanks you.

Peace & Love

It's Late.....and I am writing

When the spirit moves me to write I just get up and do it. If I do not release this energy that is flowing through my body, then I will not sleep at all. That's just how an artist works. When you have creative juices flowing through your body it has no time or space. You can not turn it on and off. It's an continuous flow of energy that is carried like an conduit of electricity up and down, from head to toe and back again. Mine is released through my fingers.

I can sit here and close my eyes and go to work. It feels so good to be able to let go what is on the mind. There are some people who do not know how to communicate what they feel or see. They hold things in and either let it destroy them or they turn it into something else. Find another outlet like alcohol or drugs to numb what is being felt. When you do not know how to feed the soul or acknowledge that it's energy needs to be released and nourished to restore itself, you eventually die. You become a zombie in life, and what a tragedy that is. You live in a world where nothing is real because that is how you deal with things. You create false images and speak languages that only the numb can understand. You have died and written your own eulogy.

There is power in the pen. To be able to create visual images through the written word is not only an creative talent it can also serve as therapy to the mind and soul. As sleepy as I may feel physically my mind would have kept me awake. So I write. There is so much going on in the universe. So much to anticipate, so much changing naturally and forced. Are you awake to your existence? Or are you on auto-pilot living the life that is expected. When writing I can make the unreal seem real, bring the dead to life and breathe into the lines a whole new life other than my own. Yes it's alive because I feel what I write. I bring it to life because I understand what it is to be alive. I understand that there is something greater than me working through me, something that flows like a river, beautiful and natural like child birth.

I love what I do, I love what I can do. There is nothing that can separate me from what God has ordained as my destiny. I will write until I can not anymore. I will share, I will educate, I will submit to the art and let it show me the way. Finding that kind of love does not come everyday. Recognizing the love is even harder. Some people miss the message of their life,so it get's forwarded on. Be ready, look , ask and you will know what it is to be completely fulfilled by what it is that you love. But you have to listen in order to be heard.

Finally>>>>>

I have completely and officially moved and I will have the 1st round of my published book! The timing could have not been more perfect. I am in the process of completing my follow-up to the first book.
I am more than excited but haven't had the energy to celebrate,I will when book is in hand.
One of my good friends told me she was proud of me. I haven't heard that in a long time. I have a lot of friends, but very few "friends". I am glad to have her as my friend. We shall celebrate the cause!!

I am sitting at home in my new location to write, but the window with the tree's whistling. The night sounds are so clear and unfiltered with voices,noises, dog's barking or cat's meowing. There is nothing that needs me more than ever than my writing, I will stay committed and never cheat. Faithful we shall wride.

Peace and Love Ya'll..

Five Days A Week

 My life was out of control. Being out of control became the theme of my existence. I was hungry for peace, hungry to find and know who I am. My purpose, my reason for living. So far my life had been unfamiliar and cloudy like an empty glass of milk. My glass was empty. It was never filled with what was healthy and nourishing, it was tainted. Tainted by the liquor of life and I had drank too much.

Morning would come too soon and on time. I would again be faced with going to work. I would join the gathering, moving in like cattle at a place that most of us hated to go, but had to. A place that forced us to share our being.  Forced to share it with people who we would otherwise had  never known.  It was the constant five days a week contact  that provided a comfort of believing that maybe we do actually know each other. Each of us served our purpose for eight to ten hours a day. Ideas thrown in a bucket of insecurities, personalities and sorrows. Along with that our education, experience and ego's to generate and create the bottom line. For five days we would sell our souls and love it, or pretend we did. Smile with gratitude and let their god validate our reason for being here. It was a check or direct deposit into our souls. It became so additive that it would make us forget that we all wanted to be somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else. The cold reality that  we were conditioned to forget,  was that we all boiled down to a monetary value. No more and maybe less.

We had two days to regroup and convince ourselves that this is the way of life.  Forget the hell of the week and enjoy this paradise of the weekend. We screamed at the joy of our freedom, hating it because it is short lived, for Monday would come again.


LLW