Sometimes, when I think back to the first three years of building this wordly land
I’ve created – it amazes me that I was diligent enough to post every day.
This year, I reckon I’ll have another crack. The only thing to ever inhibit daily posting was emotional imbalance brought on by life’s harder blows.
I don’t really have any hard blows at the moment… I’m essentially in a Writer’s Paradise with a collection of furry creatures that enjoy eating apples out of my open palms.
If you’ve never fed a thoroughbred before, do try if you get a chance. And I’m still swooning over the lap pig I’ve been spending my early mornings with.
There is a true essence in not chasing anything, simply just residing. Before now, I’ve never had the opportunity to do that. Earlier today, the joy of skipping through the woods with clippers and cleaning up trails for fellow explorers took me back to my happiest childhood years.
Two years ago I was reeling from a hideous breakup. Two months ago I was sitting at board tables writing scripts for people with multi-million dollar salaries. Today, I’m on thirty-something acres beneath a sky that seems bluer than I recall.
I’m embracing the position I’m in. After less than a week of being where I am, working outside and writing my heart out – my olive skin tone is a shade deeper from the winter winds; the curl in my long, thick hair is expanding its wave; and the green of my eyes is shimmering at the idea of future spring months, when I’ll plant gardens and wander around barefoot.
I’ll be back to tell you more tomorrow…