Singing river and shuffling shy…..

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Last year this time I was bursting at the seams
to flesh out a wordy dream I’ve carried for a long time growing
– to find a way to give form and flight to my love for helping tug stories into the light
and whisper free voices that may have gotten buried in the bustle of life.
I’ve carried this flame since I was a girl,  this desire to hear and sing
the hidden songs that another spirit breathes
until they discover in themselves a beauty maybe yet unseen.

It’s grown as I’ve spent time with my older clients,  who come out to sit in their garden chairs
while I dig and tend and weed and mostly keep company with a listening heart
and as I reflect back the breath of their stories and watch their eyes mist and come alight,
it is my honor to hold these spaces sacred.  To be a witness.

So I saved my pennies and purchased a website and named my dream the Singing River Wordshop.
I’ll jump in and pop that thing right out,  I thought,  fueled by strong passion
and labor pains that had gone on plenty long enough.
Get ready to manifest:)
Or so I figured.

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Instead,  the river surged wild and I was swept into the tumbling, muddy waters of my own story
and could only ride the waves that tossed me far and away downstream
to a new place altogether.
It’s different,  where I’ve landed.
Less apologetic.  More fearless.
I don’t quite recognize,  but it feels like somewhere I was too afraid to go.
The water sings softly here,  like an afterstorm.
I can hear.

So I’m stepping back in
and trusting help be poured out into every place of need.
Even though I’m knocking around in the dark in technical terms,
I will learn.
Because it’s how I want to invest my Autumn years
– leaning in for a listen to do some wordsmithing for those who may want this,
helping give voice to their own rustle and rhyme.
To notice the whiffs from the incense that a secret heart burns
and wrap words around the treasure buried there.

Because our story is what we leave behind.

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“Ultimately what remains is a story.
In the end,  it’s the only thing any of us really owns.”
– Carole Radziwell

The Singing River Wordshop:  It’s about love letters and legacy.
The site is still an empty shell – I’m babystepping into the water again
and so open to questions and input from you – I invite it!
– I want to learn to put words around this thing I’m carrying and I’m not quite there yet.

Giving away another little soul spa package – a love bomb,  of sorts:)
Leave a comment and I’ll toss your name in the hat.

(last week’s drawing goes to Kathy of Paper Pumpkin!  With sooooo much love)