Inspiration - "InSpirit"

Wayne Dyer continues to fill my morning writings and my thoughts as I walk through these days looking for motivation and support to continue on my life's purpose. I need him to see me through this. My books call to me - publish me. Write me.  Answer my calling. Share yourself with the world.

My cat Bailey sits all cozy on my red bathroom on the chair next to me keeping me company and watching me type. He is content and happy watching the letters appear on the page. The house is quiet as I write. I listen with attentive ears for my friend who is downstairs in my guest bedroom, healing from hip surgery. Will he stir while I write? I hope that I will be able to keep my morning writing ritual this morning without him needing me.

This is my favorite time of day to write as there are no distractions from the world quite yet and I can be alone with my books and my thoughts. And so I listen to Wayne Dyer talk about Inspiration and those that have inspired him in his life. Does he know that "He" has been my inspiration? My spiritual inspiration, my mentor as each day I reaffirm my purpose with his voice in my ears.

In his video on Inspiration, he talks of the story of Vincent Van Gogh  and Don Mclean's song that he wrote in the honor of the famous painter. I didn't know that this painter shot himself because his soul was in such turmoil. And who knew that his paintings never sold until his death? When I listen to Serena Dyer sing the song, Starry Starry Night, my heart was filled with sadness over such greatness feeling such grief within himself. How can that be? How can he create such amazing works, yet feel such depths of darkness?

His mother gave him the same name as she had given to a son born about a year prior who was still born. He felt like a replacement child? Oh, I see it as another chance, another try to bring the baby who was meant to be on this earth to life. Yet, he struggled. How I wish he could have known how wonderful he was while he was still alive. He died too young.

"One of the essential principles of living an inspired life is the knowing that our desires don't always arrive on our schedule. They arrive when they are supposed to. "  I stopped the youtube video several types to hear Wayne Dyer tell me that over and over and over again. I know he was speaking to me as I long for my first book to be published.

And so as I struggle to keep my promise to myself that I would write everyday and that yes, I will be a published author and my other private dreams will come true, I think of Wayne Dyer and all the people that inspired his life's work and his story of  Vincent Van Gogh. I don't think I will ever forget it.

I will not let my dreams die with me. I will live to see them come alive, no matter the effort , no matter when the time.

Dear Dr. Dyer - You Inspire Me! I hope you are hearing these words as I speak them in my head and type them on the computer screen. Thank you , I love you for being there for me, each day, each piece I write, each word I speak. You Inspire Me!

Kimberley

Saturday Night at Grace House

It's 12:45 am on a Saturday evening as I walk in the door of my home from a wonderful evening with friends. The house is quiet  but for the sound of the television. I gingerly walk through the dining room and into the living room.  One table lamp warmly lights the sunroom and the reflection of the TV shines on the serene faces of my sleeping guests on the couch.  Being out in the rain and cold weather had them yearning for warmth as they are snuggled beneath the plaid comforter. The temperature  in the house has dropped quite a bit so I thought perhaps they could use another blanket. And just as I lowered the blanket onto him, he awoke. His sleepy smile greeted me while his girlfriend still remained in her blissful state of slumber.

We chatted for awhile reminiscing about our night's out when our chat was cut short by two black cats creating any kind of mischief they could to demand that a midnight snack be served!

The water was heating on the stove as I began to scoop the homemade cat food into a small glass dish. This daily ritual acted out without thought, I reflected on how full my heart was knowing my guests have made themselves right at home.  As I am lost in the warmth of this feeling, I glance over to see a pizza box and some beer cans on the counter and I smile. The kitchen is a bit messy but I don't care.

I bring myself back to preparing my cats food,  my thoughts wander to my other guests that text me about two hours ago.  Their grandson suddenly had to go to the Emergency Room. I walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway adjoining their bedroom. I glance in the direction of their room and see darkness with the door wide open.  A clear sign they haven't been home.

I quickly shoot a text off to them to express my concern as they walk into the side door to the house.

Tired with worried expressions on their faces, they share the events of the last few hours.

The guests on the couch stretch their arms and legs and announce they are going to bed. Saturday Night Live and Nicki Minaj are turned off as the house begins its quiet decent into slumber.

I continue my kitchen conversation about an eleven month old's first visit to the ER as the cats munch on their midnight snack. Emotionally weary from the days events, my guests bid me a "goodnight."

I take a quick tour through the house turning off the lights except for a guiding light over the kitchen sink. The cats and head off to the second floor. They know the routine as they jump up onto the bed waiting for me finish washing my face and brushing my teeth.

I open the bedroom window to let the cool breeze float in and I climb under the covers between my two furry companions.

I lay there listening to the sound of a peaceful and contented silence. Everyone is home, warm, safe and comfortable.

And I am happy.

Kimberley