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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. |
Jalál (Glory), 3 ‘Aẓamat (Grandeur) 175 B.E. - Saturday, May 19, 2018 "All Art is a gift of the Holy Spirit. When this light shines through the mind of a musician, it manifests itself in beautiful harmonies. Again, shining through the mind of a poet, it is seen in fine poetry and poetic prose. When the Light of the Sun of Truth inspires the mind of a painter, he produces marvellous pictures. These gifts are fulfilling their highest purpose, when showing forth the praise of God." Abdu’l-Baha Art1 Gift of the Holy Spirit, and the healer of humanity's wounds when the artist soul turns in praise to the glorious Lord. Origins "Everything has a spirit!" Echoes from the dawn of faith Flows across the planet; Descends in torrents Down granite cliff faces To merge With concepts From God's mot recent revelation: "Everything reflects an attribute of God!" Like water dripping from the roof of a cave, Filtered through layers of sediment, Carrying with it the minerals of faith: "God works in history!" "All revelation is from God!" Through the vocal chords of His Manifestations, He directs the evolution Of His creation, His words echo across Earth, Flow through the minds of His lovers: "God reveals His will through His prophets!" Standing on the bank of a river, The thirsty seeker sees Only the water flowing past. Looking up stream The mist of distance Hides past branches From the seeker's view. Looking down stream The mist of time Hides fture branches. Only the section of the river At the seeker's feet is familiar; Past and future branches Remain nameless and unnamed. "Many rivers flow from a single source!" 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.