Hello dear readers
Human Design Rocks( check it out)
I love this little drawing
It’s my body graph with a skirt
My mother has the same four centers
Self, throat, third eye and crown.
I miss my mom
Especially this week.
Human Design
her soup pot
Hello dear Friends and Welcome
her soup pot 
We are reflections of our mothers and carry their essence with us. Sometimes we can’t see it but others can see our mothers in us. Sending love, Sandra
LikeLike
I hear you, I miss my mom too.
I’m just catching up on old emails, hence just responding to this.
I also miss you, since you haven’t been coming to dialogue or journaling!
Here’s what i wrote in the last journaling group, the prompt was change and or gift.
Change
just when I think I’ve got a hold on the gift of life,
it’s fleeting nature defies me.
How do the gods and goddesses of youth become these wizened old bony beings?
The gift of the bones that outlast the flesh and
the gift of the teeth with nothing more to chew.
The gift of life ever renewing, like the soft green shoots of spring
appearing from the decayed leaves of fall.
Such a cliche, these observations and oh so real as this body changes and
ages into an ever less likely future.
Breathing into the subtle nature of life, both fleeting and ever present.
The gift of the way words form in this brain and then appear on this page,
creating some mysterious connection with the moment, ordinary and profound.
Love, love, love, the energy of writing in this room.
The precious mystery of it.
Never too old for this, this gift of life.
So much subtle joy in this quiet moment.
Unexpected gift, given and received.
Love without an object
infused in all things.
There are 5 regulars now and two are 92 years old!
Jackie
LikeLike