She stood mesmerized by the butterflies dancing on the wind.

She declared, “Someday I’m going to have wings and fly.”

Another replied, “Look at you. You don’t have wings. We are not meant to fly. We are meant to walk upon our legs.”

She nodded but her heart whispered, “For now, simply be who you are, where you are. Wings come later.”

She played and ate and slept. She knew she was growing up.

And then it was time. She found a space to grow and to change. She spun her own niche in the world and the changes began.

Nothing felt quite the same. Her body was transforming. Life poked at her safe space and she worried. A tiny whisper said, “You need wings to fly. Just be who you are, where you are.”

She sighed. She felt like she was meant to fly, to be something more. She sighed again, impatient for all of her pieces to form her new self.

The urge to leave her restrictive became essential. She no longer get had a choice, and even though she had dreamed of wings to fly, she didn’t care anymore. She needed to be free, to push past what she prayed was a temporary state.

Then it was time. She struggled to push through the tiny opening that beckoned her. Her struggle took all of her energy. Exhausted, she stopped and wondered if she could just go back to her safe space, despite how painful it had been.

A tiny voice whispered, “Just be who you are, where you are.”

She wondered who she was and how she’d gotten here. A tiny image floated before her closed eyes of butterflies dancing on the wind. She remembered her childhood dream and sighed.

“Whoever I am and wherever I am this is not where I’m supposed to be.” She pushed harder and broke free of her cocoon.

She rested upon the branch. The wind reminded her that she wasn’t quite herself. The sun warmed her. Suddenly she felt free, lighter than ever before… as if she could fly.

And so she did. She fluttered her wings and danced on the wind.


L & Muse


Author of Our Own Lives

We often hide behind Fear, who generously veils itself as frustration or “I’m not good enough.” 

When Fear is our friend, we have a lot of really convincing excuses about why we don’t have enough time or energy.

But, what if we were to unfriend Fear? 

Even that space of the unknown invites Fear back into our thoughts, and Fear is an eager with a promise of an unconditional relationship.

What if we made a decision to simply choose Love?

If the title of tomorrow’s page of our lives was “Choose Love,” imagine the difference it would make…

Because we love ourselves, we would take a few moments to honor what we need to start our day.

When faced with each choice, we would ask ourselves, “What would Love do?” We’d act more compassionately toward those we love. We’d say no when we meant no because that sets a loving boundary, rather than eroding our inner selves with a resentful, half-hearted attempt to please another, and in doing so we please no one.

Love truly sees beyond the hate, beyond the fear, beyond the challenges, beyond our differences. 

Fear is blind to Love. Love sees through the heart.

We need to choose Love.


L and Muse

A Mother’s Love

She grew strong, reaching deeply into the earth for nourishment as her roots nestled into the rich soil. And, she grew taller, more lush. 

Upon her limb, tiny seeds emerged. She hoped for the future, and her heart promised to nurture the little ones. And so she reached a bit deeper to find the richest soil and opened up more to receive the water droplets she needed. She surrendered and swayed a bit more in the strong winds to protect her little ones, desperately wanting them to thrive.

Eager to put down their own roots, they beckoned a passerby to help them in their plight, and so a small hand broke the branch from the Mother Tree and carried it a bit. 

Her eyes welled with tears; she watched her hope shrink as her little ones were tossed on to the hard pavement. She begged the wind to help her little ones. He obliged his eternal friend, pushing the little ones to the grass. 

She smiled her gratitude as her little ones were again under her protective branches–for now content that they were close.


L and Muse

Through my Eyes

The sun sits upon the edge of a glass intrigued by the richness of the earth below… 

absorbing and reflecting her rays

While the glass offers his own view of Sun’s caress. 

I see the dance between the light and dark, the ordinary and the extraordinary, the exuberant and the subtle. 


L & Muse

A Meditation

She sits. “Ready to meditate,” she thinks.

She wiggles trying to settle her body.

She squints to see others sitting statuesque with gently closed eyes.

She again wiggles willing her body to relax, despite her protesting knees and suddenly heavy head.

She squints. No one has moved.

She uncrosses her legs and stretches on her back, her body settles into the cool grass. Her sigh releases her previous discomfort.

She thinks, “OK. Now I am ready to meditate.”

She realizes that a voice is guiding the meditators. She breathes deeply trying to hear the words over her rumbling stomach. 

She lifted her head and squints. No one has moved. Their breathing is deep and steady.

She lowers her head and chastises herself. She clenched her jaw and begs her ears to carry the words to her easily so she can meditate. She is ready.

A voice says, “Now imagine yourself standing at a door. What does the door look like?  Open the door. What do you see?”

Her mind races. “Door? What door? Where are they? Open the door?! I can’t even find a door. I don’t see anything. I’m not doing it right. Now what?”

The voice brings the meditation to a gentle close. 

She squeezed her eyes desperate to find the elusive door. 

Her friend whispers, “Wasn’t that magical?”

Through squinted eyes, she sits up. She shakes her head, blinks back tears, and whispers,”No. When I was finally ready to meditate, the whole thing ended.”

And so began her journey…


L & Muse


Yesterday, I had a plan which I carefully mapped out. I knew exactly where I had been, where I needed to go, and how to get there. It was comfortable and so I walked with my head held high. Confident.

Then today happened. Before I slipped out of the warm covers, everything had changed. The room was heavy. My heart was heavier. My vision blurred. I struggled to see the world around me. The weight burdened my heart further, like Winter’s heaviest, wettest snow pushing branches to the ground, nearly past their breaking point.

In this tenuous space, I grumbled to no avail and sank into the quicksand of despair. No sunrise or sunset was magnificent. Flowers were full. Food was blah. My inner flame was now a nearly burned out ember.

Tomorrow is a new today, they say.

And so today I heard the faintest whisper, “You are the author of your life. You write the next scene the way you want it to go.”

Time stopped. I surrendered.

My brain engaged. If I am the author of my own life, then how do I want the next scene to go? How do I want to feel?

Beneath my self-created concerns, words came to me again as a whisper, “Joyful laughter and filled with hope. Free of fear.”

The dormant gears finally began turning, and I looked around.

Does the darkness bring me joy or hope? I opened the curtains as the light streamed into room.

And, so I began the next chapter with my guiding questions… Will this bring me joy? Will this bring me hope? Will this make me happy?

And so I am renewed in the light of love…The author of my own story…


L & Muse

Christmas Card

Winter’s first snowfall

Building a snowman is play,

Reminder to play.
Kitty walks between 

Horses, balanced on a fence

Reminder: balance.
Peace repeated on 

the cards this year, many fonts

Reminder: breathe peace

In and out and in….


L & Muse