Saturday, February 20, 2016

1339. SO, HERE'S WHAT STIMULATED INTUITION TO PEN YESTERDAY'S POST

Yesterday, knowing that preparations to welcome house guests had been completed, I was resting while reading a memoir to be discussed by one of my book clubs in March, when the content of the author's story provoked a compelling need within me to express personal thoughts, so taking my stylus in hand, insights began to march out of my mind, one leading to the next, as has become my habit, suggesting why my desire to rest bowed to a deeper (intuitive) need to examine a personal strength, which I'd made certain to bequeath to my sons many years before I'd consciously worked to develop that specific strength, myself.

Can you name that personal strength?
Hint:  You'll find it highlighted in yesterday's post ...

That's all for today, because tis time to shift gears and ready myself to offer treasured friends (who are due to arrive from the airport in their rent-a-car, momentarily) the warmth of my smile, followed by wrapping them within a great big, welcoming, glad-to-see-you hug ...

See small portion of guest room, appointed with every nicety, enticing loved ones to return ...
Having created a welcoming environment, I often feel gratified to hear that time spent in our home feels as swell to the hearts of our guests as is true of my heart, which swells with pleasure over my good fortune to embrace a bevy of loved ones, again and again ... BTW, this photo must be distorted, because the four poster bed does not appear to be spacious, though queen sized it most certainly is.

Doll sitting on stool at the foot of the bed is the woman who swallowed a fly ... I don't know why she swallowed that fly ... perhaps she'll ... Geez ... Though it's true that tthe refrain of that ditty is far from sweet, children laugh to hear it sung while little hands, reaching curiously into the doll's large frowning mouth, draw forth, first the fly, then the bird, the cat, the horse and the cow.

As to the 'message' printed upon the small white pillow, centered on the bed, the letters spell out:  IMAGINE.  Soon as my eyes spied that pillow, I knew it was mine—Why?  Because historically speaking, imaginative thinking, punctuated with a sense of humor, saves the day, time and again, most especially when some aspect of life feels too troubling to bear until visions of change for the better dance out ofthe intuitive portion of my mind, filling the air with a step by step plan, which being based in insight, conceives of an outcome that eventually proves positive to everyone involved  ... and thus has this post made reference to mustering patience, knowing that monumental changes in everyday life tend to unfold as slowly as molasses saunters toward the lid when the jar in which it's contained has been turned upside down ...

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