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 Gratitude breaks the spell of Writers Block |
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Staring at a blank page is like staring into a snowfield. The snow, untouched by civilization and unmarked by living creatures, blinds you for a few minutes, it glistens reflecting subtle shades of pure white and rainbows at odd angles. If you stare at the snow too long, you get lost in the interplay of light and shadow. As the day wears on, you become awestruck at the beauty of the snow's perfection. You marvel at the way an oak tree cast its ebony shadow across the pure white snow. You watch the tree's shadow change, grow and shrink, as Earth turns and the sun moves from morning to evening. If you stand out in the snow too long without moving, you risk snow bite or freezing. If you are fortunate, a red fox will walk across your line of sight. The fox will leave his footprints written in the snowfield. As you watch the fox move, the spell holding you in one spot staring at the snow is broken. You are free to go inside out of the cold and out of danger. I must say, writing 500 words a day isn't difficult, unless I'm attempting to write on a single subject. On Monday, October 28, 2013, I began posting my weekly goals at "Weekly Goals"  . On Tuesday, October 29, 2013 I began keeping track of may accomplished goals in this journal."O SON OF BEING! Bring thyself to account each day ere thou art summoned to a reckoning; for death, unheralded, shall come upon thee and thou shalt be called to give account for thy deeds." Bah'u'll'h The Hidden Words of Bah'u'll'h, Part I.'From the Arabic, #31, page 11 'Heinlein's Rules for Writers Rule One: You Must Write Rule Two: Finish What Your Start Rule Three: You Must Refrain From Rewriting, Except to Editorial Order Rule Four: You Must Put Your Story on the Market Rule Five: You Must Keep it on the Market until it has Sold' Robert A. Heinlein It is enjoined upon every one of you to engage in some form of occupation, such as crafts, trades and the like. We have graciously exalted your engagement in such work to the rank of worship unto God, the True One. Ponder ye in your hearts the grace and the blessings of God and render thanks unto Him at eventide and at dawn. Waste not your time in idleness and sloth. Occupy yourselves with that which profiteth yourselves and others. Thus hath it been decreed in this Tablet from whose horizon the day-star of wisdom and utterance shineth resplendent. Baha'u'llah, Tablets of Baha'u'llah Revealed After the Kitab-i-Aqdas, Pages 21-29: gr 32 I changed the way I did entries in this book several times. Beginning on March 21, 2018 the entries will cover the topics of spiritual, inspirational, and religions. However, the genres it will be under are Women's, Inspirational, and Spiritual with a tag of Religious. |
Istiqlál (Independence), 14 Jamál (Beauty) 175 B.E. - Friday, May 11, 2018 "Know thou of a truth that the soul, after its separation from the body, will continue to progress until it attaineth the presence of God, in a state and condition which neither the revolution of ages and centuries, nor the changes and chances of this world, can alter. It will endure as long as the Kingdom of God, His sovereignty, His dominion and power will endure. It will manifest the signs of God and His attributes, and will reveal His loving kindness and bounty. The movement of My Pen is stilled when it attempteth to befittingly describe the loftiness and glory of so exalted a station. The honor with which the Hand of Mercy will invest the soul is such as no tongue can adequately reveal, nor any other earthly agency describe." On November 29, 2012, my mother transcended into the Abha Kingdom. This Mother's Day, Sunday, May 13, 2018, will be my sixth Mother's Day without her. I miss her. I miss her smile. I miss going out with her to eat on Mother's Day. I miss hearing her chant the Most Great Name each morning. I still have her pink prayer beads and her rose decorated pill box on my desk. I thought about taking her prayer beads to the Baha'i Center and giving them to a new Baha'i, and I still may do that; I'm just not sure if I'm ready yet. I know Mom is continuing to her journey toward God. I know her soul is continuing to progress toward the Almighty. I still want to cry because I miss her so much; however, instead of crying I say a prayer for the progress of her soul. The Alzheimer's disease cause the last few months of her life to be difficult, for both of us. I didn't like seeing her sat and stare into space, or cry because she remembered something from her childhood that upset her. Sometimes she cried because she missed her parents; she didn't remember that they died years before we moved to Las Vegas. Now she is with them. Now soul is in the spiritual realm, and advancing toward God. Now she is happy. Her soul ascending, advancing toward the Almighty. The Poet Speaks3 In the twilight years of poetry when the word lovers weep for lack of rhymes, when street gestures and catacomb profanity hide unexpressed in the dictionaries of dead civilizations, when impoverished odes are painted on enslaved eyeballs, the poet speaks. The poet speaks vomiting stanzas across the pristine streets of ignorance, spreading the bacteria of knowledge through unthinking populations, and teaching the unaware how to ask questions. Poet's Note: ▼ Footnotes |
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You kept hope, prayed, and that paid off.
Only bush honeysuckle in bloom. It's not very fragrant. The intoxicating vines bloom later. But we have lilacs... until this heat roasts them.