Laundry, a task I loathe for its repetitiveness, until last April. As I dragged the dry clothes out, there in the bottom of the drum, lay something shiny. I leaned down further to reach in and retrieve this mystery item. It was a pen, but not just any pen, it was one of my dad's. Why was his pen in my dryer. All my life, he kept notecards and a pen in his pocket, but only in his civilian clothing as it was not part of the official Army uniform he wore with pride each day. Dad had died just days before and I knew I had not confiscated one of his pens! But there it was. Wait, there was one more thing in that cavern, so I reached down again, and discovered an earring. Not just any earring, but the one I had lost over 20 years ago, three houses, two relationships ago...the part of the pair I had worn when my daughter was born. Mom. Mom had died a month to that day. They were signs, I knew it! I don't believe in signs, but that day, I started to, and each dryer cycle since, I look for a little something, with the wonder of a child. Suleilka and Joanne, thank you both for inviting me, this wounded and battered soul, back into the world of wonder in my world.
Mary, isn’t it something—how wonder waits in the folds of the ordinary, how it chooses the most unremarkable moments to remind us we’re still being held? That kind of magic that doesn’t ask to be believed in—only noticed.
Mary, I also meant to share this with you…Your stories made me think of something that happened to me about a year ago. I have been scanning photos so that I have them all saved in one place. Last year while scanning more photos one night, I came across a photo I had taken of my father. We were sitting out by the pool in the house my parents built in Scottsdale, AZ. I love this photograph of him, because of how good he looks in it, and because it was just the two of us sitting together that afternoon. As I turned the photograph over to scan it, I saw something written on the back of it. I normally write the dates and locations on the back of photos, but the writing on the back of this photo was not written by me. I didn’t even recognize the writing. I go by ‘Susan’…The only people I allowed to call me ‘Sue’ were my daughter and my father. It was a term of endearment for both of them. My father passed away in late 2020. The words on the back of this photo which is of only my father, were, “I love you, Sue!” I froze. I showed it to Brent and called my mother. I still don’t know whose writing it could be and I was referred to as Sue. I’ll never forget it.
Mary, this response triggered a memory for me of "signs" that I think of as magical "aha"
moments. After my mom and her brother, who lived together in retirement, died within a year of each other, my husband and I went back to Ireland for a visit. We had traveled there with both my mother, Grace and my beloved Uncle Harry.
While in Shanagary, my husband and I visited one of my favorite pottery shops. We went our separate ways to browse the area of "sale items". Very shortly, we both motioned to one another to come see what each of us randomly found in separate areas.
We had found plates with the name "GRACE"on one and "HARRY" on the other. They were both with us in Ireland the country of their ancestors.
We were told by the owner that they were items that were not picked up by the folks that had ordered them. They were clearly by design and size made for children.
I immediately knew these plates had to return with us to Chicago. They were meant for us to buy and put in our kitchen where both Grace and Harry sat across from each other and shared meals that I had lovingly cooked for them so many times.Those plates still rest on high shelves where whenever I gaze upwards they catch my eyes. It has been more than twenty years since we were in Ireland...all I have to do is "look up" in my kitchen to be blessed by such sweet memories. There are "signs" all around me all I have to do is welcome and be inviting to them.
Mary, there are always signs. For so many, it's a cardinal. I completely agree with you about looking for something with the wonder of a child. It's so refreshing how young kids see the world.
Oh, yes, Lauren. May we all remember that child in us. I have been through periods of such jadedness and young children remind me to look down and wonder.
I had goosebumps reading your words, Mary. LITERALLY. I personally do believe in signs. I know how much you miss your parents and your sharing of your two findings coinciding with your parents lives? I am sending you a big hug right now. ❤️
Your comment is so powerful. Thank you for sharing the story. Here is mine …My friend was at my house last fall -she had recently lost her beloved husband. Her grief was immense. I noticed her earrings - they were beautiful. She told me she had just bought herself new earrings the day before. She told me she had no idea why. We went to a restaurant and during lunch I noticed one of her new earrings was missing. We searched and searched but could not find it. Her grief about the loss of her beloved husband surfaced immediately. I sent a prayer to the Tara goddesses. I hoped she would receive some help and love. I knew her loss was overpowering. When we returned to my home I got out of the car and immediately started walking across our hay fields. I walked quite a long way. I suddenly looked down in the very tall grass . Right there I found the earring. It was literally like finding a needle in a haystack. I live on 32 acres. We both cried.
My stage 4 cancer bestie is on chemo this week too. Her normally vibrant, shiny voice faded to a whisper. Her mum reminded her to shift her sorry arse out to the park with her pooch, Bowie.
She stayed two hours.
Listened to children laughing.
Children she knows she can’t have.
I’m so damn proud of her.
She lifted herself out of the mire. She apologised to her body for the perverse infusion of drugs that freeze her soul.
Chemoxity shifts each day but boy it doesn’t feel like it on day 1,2,3,4,5.
The humans are merely attached to the dogs walking by or at the park. Dogs own humans, and they are a wonderful way to lift spirits. I will ignore the human attached to the leash. I do say 'hello doggie' as they walk by. And I know most dog lovers do the same thing.
I am currently dog-less, but fill the need for dog kisses and pets by going to the woods where they are walking with their people. That and planning my trip to the mail room at prime dog walking time.
All of your words are very powerful here, Mel, and the two sentences, “She lifted herself out of the mire. She apologised to her body for the perverse infusion of drugs that freeze her soul.” This is such an incredibly beautiful action of giving oneself love and compassion, something everyone needs to learn in life. 🩷
Thank you Susan. I have been through chemo and am likely to do so again. As I accompany my friend through hers, I feel the dark stickiness of it and also the need to take our feet out of the sloop and move to higher ground. It’s remarkable what survival looks like. Thank you so much for your words. Sending love ❤️
In reading today's post, I remembered a story I read many years ago. In it, a woman described coming out of a store to the parking lot where she had left her elderly father waiting in the car. What she witnessed was her father walking around the parking lot placing heads-up pennies on the ground. When questioned why, he replied that someone had to. He was placing them so that people might find the penny and believe a little good luck had come their way. Since then, I always pick up the penny and wonder if someone put it there for me to find just when I needed it. And, I thank them for caring.
I have done this! Pennies are not much use in our society, so if I get too many of them and they weigh down my purse, I send them off into the universe. I have also been known to find a penny face-up and pick it up. I am not sure of the rules but I think finding the penny is what makes it lucky for the holder. So, I pick it up and claim it as my own. Then I think there are no rules that I have to keep the penny. I return it to the ground for the next person to find.
Stringing together the tiniest of glimmers is my approach to life these days when I’m not traveling or getting out much. A combination of responsibilities, including my sweet senior dog, and my introverted need to nest at home, have reduced the big moments and somewhat sanded down the texture that distinguishes most days.
But seeing and naming the tiny things lifts me and gives each day a sense of possibility I might otherwise miss. Like your nest of cardinal’s eggs. Which became my early morning glimmer after asking my mother last night to send me a sign, a cardinal, to let me know she’s with me. She passed away 8 weeks ago. Cardinals and pennies are both strong messages from Heaven. So thank you for that glimmer of a hello.
Abby, my heart to you. My mother died 6 weeks ago and I too feel the introverted need to nest at home, and find myself just staring into space a lot. But if I “wake up” just a bit, the glimmers quietly work their way in, particularly the cardinal who is still singing in my neighborhood way past his mating season, the 5 baby bunnies who chased each other madly around the yard one afternoon, and the turning of time as the trees flower and leaf out. My deepest sympathy to you for your loss.
Good Morning All. I am grateful for this mornings readings. Both have so much packed in. I loved “An example of a ‘glimmer’—the opposite of a trigger. Moments of joy we come across in our everyday lives.” Yes, exactly. A glimmer. A tiny gem. A bit of beauty that lifts us from the mundane, from the drudgery, from the crueler aspects of living. What sweet relief." I am overwhelmed with more diagnosis after a brief time of doing better. These weeks have more tests and doctors appointments. And we are looking for a new home that is smaller, " take us into our next chapter" home. And it is overwhelming. And so I loved the getting down low and think small. Thank you.
I, too, loved, “An example of a ‘glimmer’-the opposite of a trigger.” I also loved your words, “Take us into our next chapter” home. I hope you find glimmers every day in the weeks to come. 🩷
I just finished Between Two Kingdoms, which meant so much to me. I share your passion for travel, and especially loved the roadtrip to meet people you befriended online when you were sick. And your commitment to writing even a little bit when you were so sick and now here you are connecting to so many and touching so many people’s lives. I especially loved the part where Jon kissed your portal and told you you are the most beautiful person he’s ever met. I have a wife like that, who’s been with me for twenty years, doing all the work of keeping the house going, sticking by me through dark periods, especialIy when I spiral down into the “I am a burden” well. Sleeping so much for so many years, I say to her when she goes out, “Please don’t find some Awake lady who will steal you away.” But for all these years, we have had Story, where she reads to me as I drift in and out of sleep. She has a beautiful voice. A couple of years ago, a few months apart from each other, we lost our 15 year old magical kitties, a brother and sister we found on the street in Cambodia. Well, you know how that goes. Ugh. We now have 3 boy kitties - Maxy, hurricane foster who decided to stay, and his two little brothers, Grasshopper (aka Freckles) and Bumblebee. They love to play on the lanai and are all often too busy with kitten business for cuddling with mommies. Freckles will only take his affection on the bathmat in front of the toilet. I lie on the bathroom floor and sing songs to him about how wonderful he is. He particularly likes “Ella sings Cole Porter” style. He gets so happy and affectionate and gets under me while I do child’s pose in front of the toilet, rolling kind of underneath me while I sing, resting my cheek on him and petting and kissing him to my heart’s content. The last thing I wanted to tell you is my journal entry for today would be called “The Chipped Nailpolish” because several weeks ago I had a “good energy day”, my battery charged to the point where I had the stamina to paint my nails. But alas, that energy never returned to remove said nailpolish. I thought you would understand. Thank you for all you are. -Mary Lynn
I pick up pennies, always have. Never having given it much thought, until today, I think I do so because it looks so lonely and out of place in its new location. It belongs with its mates or in the little saucer next to the cash register in Stewarts. I'm 78 and my husband is 81 and has severe health issues. It's a challenging time. My 51 year old daughter is facing serious health issues. As difficult as it is, I believe that years are a blessing and that, yes, we find beauty in some of the smallest, most hidden places. Thank you, Suleika and this community for your strength, support and sweet salve in this life.
Thank you. Sending the very same back to you and your family. I grew up, taught high school, was elected as Town Supervisor once I retired from teaching and continue to live in Greenwich. Many of my creative friends know your mom.
Me too Sara, coming up, I have always taught my child to look down, people drop and lose change everywhere. Depending on where we walk, each penny is earned, and a message almost always comes with the pick.
Early 80’s driving with my love Mchael from nyc to Quebec. A boring ride of nothingness until we came across a huge field of buttercups. Buttercups are bright yellow, small & when I see a huge field of them, Michael and I runout barefoot and rather the buttercups tickling my feet & then laying down in them feeling like I’m resting in a feathered bed & looking up to the sky & seeing blue blue sky with lots of clouds that look like so many things. Feeling at peace & that I owned the world. A beautiful moment looking from the ground up. Goddess bless this beautiful community, which is sometimes a brokenhearted community. Why? Because in this community we’re encouraged to be who we are
Whenever my 2 year old grandchild comes over, I spend a lot of time on my knees! So many things to discover crouched down. Yesterday we found some tiny dollhouse treasures under the bed, and picked up pinecones and small speckled rocks outside. On the deck, there were last summer’s shriveled grapes and small tiny twigs. She notices everything, and has now discovered pockets too, perfect for keeping these little precious things :) It helps so much to see things from this glimmery down-low and up-close perspective, thank you for this wonderful prompt 💐🎈
My family calls those moments Winks from the Universe. I celebrated my 70th birthday this past week and every year I’m astonished that I’m still here after having several near misses along the way.
I have a little 2 inch Van Gogh figure from a Lego kit of his Starry Night painting and I take him on adventures. He’s been on the platform feeder with the birds where they tolerate him in a comical way, he’s been to the Potomac River and the produce department at the grocery. He’s always up for an adventure and I take his picture so I don’t forget that it’s not the great big things in life to hope and wait for, it’s the everyday silly little things that are the Winks from the Universe.
Suleika, the Universe is sparkling and glimmering for you in spite of chemo or anything else that conspires to get in your way. You already know this and you inspire me to live each precious day with raw astonishment. Thank you.✨
“Winks from the Universe”…I just read your words aloud to my husband & he loved them! Your Van Gogh figure who you take on adventures & photograph made me think of my friend Beth doing the same with a 2 or 3 inch penguin figurine. I used to have a fear of penguins when I was a child & which Beth has remembered. She has sent me photos of her little penguin in all kinds of places…Restaurants, hotel beds, the Grand Canyon, the list goes on & on. Thank you for putting a smile on my face & bringing fun memories back to me, this afternoon! 😎🩷
Thank you for making my day, Susan!🥰 I love that Beth included you in her penguin’s adventures.☺️ I hope you and your husband absorb Winks from the Universe into your lives and share it with family and friends when you have those wonderful winks in your own lives. That phrase has caused me to be more aware of the little things that have made a difference in my life.
I wrote this one morning from my bed, looking out the window, when I woke up in 2024 and didn’t know what condition i would find my husband Jose ( now of blessed memory) It helped me to move forward:
Warm wishes to you, Jon and your pack, Suleika. xo
The small moment this morning, watching a blackbird in the stone birdbath, fluffed up and dipping, pausing long moments and preening, half in shadow and half in the brilliant morning sun. He turned, looking straight at me in the window, caught mid-preen, like a big pom pom ball. For those couple of minutes, I was out of my head, in communion with Mr Blackbird. We both bobbed a hello-goodbye. I stepped back into my day, but my mind's eye holds this lovely image of connection—today's glimmer.
The toddlers in my pre-school classroom astonish and delight me with their perspectives, and remind me to be curious. One asked me: "do goldfish have engines?" I nudge myself to be amazed by the seemingly mundane as it's not that mundane, after all!
I love how they see the world when they are so young. 2yos-middle of 4th grade is wonderful. It's how they see the world. Kids are such wonderful teachers.
And once again, your message is spot on and exactly what I needed to hear this week. 2025 has been shit - the orange man in chief and his team of idiots, my mom is unwell, I’ve had to start going back into the office which involves a long, traffic-filled commute, we all got Covid on vacation in April, and my husband has a mystery illness for the past week that he can’t shake. Despite all of this, I’m trying really hard to look on the bright side and be grateful that we have food and shelter and the love of family and friends. And, of course, this isolation journal community, that warms my heart every week.
Dear Suleika - I hope your melancholy continues to improve and you always see the beauty around you. You are loved.
Honestly, getting on with it, a call to action. I want big things, a world where all people are respected, where poverty is diminished along with hunger. I love Maria Montessori, her original vision for children --and how when observing the conditions people were struggling with made a change and did something. This week, i read one of my daughters posts about the books she read as a child in a Montessori school and how today that opportunity is being taking away. I love Bruce, Taylor, Jon--taking their platform to do big things. And now before I wash my face, I will sweep the weeds.
Laundry, a task I loathe for its repetitiveness, until last April. As I dragged the dry clothes out, there in the bottom of the drum, lay something shiny. I leaned down further to reach in and retrieve this mystery item. It was a pen, but not just any pen, it was one of my dad's. Why was his pen in my dryer. All my life, he kept notecards and a pen in his pocket, but only in his civilian clothing as it was not part of the official Army uniform he wore with pride each day. Dad had died just days before and I knew I had not confiscated one of his pens! But there it was. Wait, there was one more thing in that cavern, so I reached down again, and discovered an earring. Not just any earring, but the one I had lost over 20 years ago, three houses, two relationships ago...the part of the pair I had worn when my daughter was born. Mom. Mom had died a month to that day. They were signs, I knew it! I don't believe in signs, but that day, I started to, and each dryer cycle since, I look for a little something, with the wonder of a child. Suleilka and Joanne, thank you both for inviting me, this wounded and battered soul, back into the world of wonder in my world.
Mary, isn’t it something—how wonder waits in the folds of the ordinary, how it chooses the most unremarkable moments to remind us we’re still being held? That kind of magic that doesn’t ask to be believed in—only noticed.
Oh, Kim, how beautiful. Yes, "That kind of magic that doesn't ask to be believed in-only noticed."
Mary, I also meant to share this with you…Your stories made me think of something that happened to me about a year ago. I have been scanning photos so that I have them all saved in one place. Last year while scanning more photos one night, I came across a photo I had taken of my father. We were sitting out by the pool in the house my parents built in Scottsdale, AZ. I love this photograph of him, because of how good he looks in it, and because it was just the two of us sitting together that afternoon. As I turned the photograph over to scan it, I saw something written on the back of it. I normally write the dates and locations on the back of photos, but the writing on the back of this photo was not written by me. I didn’t even recognize the writing. I go by ‘Susan’…The only people I allowed to call me ‘Sue’ were my daughter and my father. It was a term of endearment for both of them. My father passed away in late 2020. The words on the back of this photo which is of only my father, were, “I love you, Sue!” I froze. I showed it to Brent and called my mother. I still don’t know whose writing it could be and I was referred to as Sue. I’ll never forget it.
Susan! That is beyond incredible and so cool! Thank you for telling of this wonderous note from the beyond.
Mary, this response triggered a memory for me of "signs" that I think of as magical "aha"
moments. After my mom and her brother, who lived together in retirement, died within a year of each other, my husband and I went back to Ireland for a visit. We had traveled there with both my mother, Grace and my beloved Uncle Harry.
While in Shanagary, my husband and I visited one of my favorite pottery shops. We went our separate ways to browse the area of "sale items". Very shortly, we both motioned to one another to come see what each of us randomly found in separate areas.
We had found plates with the name "GRACE"on one and "HARRY" on the other. They were both with us in Ireland the country of their ancestors.
We were told by the owner that they were items that were not picked up by the folks that had ordered them. They were clearly by design and size made for children.
I immediately knew these plates had to return with us to Chicago. They were meant for us to buy and put in our kitchen where both Grace and Harry sat across from each other and shared meals that I had lovingly cooked for them so many times.Those plates still rest on high shelves where whenever I gaze upwards they catch my eyes. It has been more than twenty years since we were in Ireland...all I have to do is "look up" in my kitchen to be blessed by such sweet memories. There are "signs" all around me all I have to do is welcome and be inviting to them.
Loretta, this is so magical! And I thank you for the advice to "welcome and be inviting to them."
My parents also leave me signs. I totally believe & agree
Jane, that is so wonderful! What do they leave you?
Mary, there are always signs. For so many, it's a cardinal. I completely agree with you about looking for something with the wonder of a child. It's so refreshing how young kids see the world.
Oh, yes, Lauren. May we all remember that child in us. I have been through periods of such jadedness and young children remind me to look down and wonder.
I had goosebumps reading your words, Mary. LITERALLY. I personally do believe in signs. I know how much you miss your parents and your sharing of your two findings coinciding with your parents lives? I am sending you a big hug right now. ❤️
Susan, thank you. Yes, you have read with love, about the hole in my heart. Big hug received and so appreciated!
Your comment is so powerful. Thank you for sharing the story. Here is mine …My friend was at my house last fall -she had recently lost her beloved husband. Her grief was immense. I noticed her earrings - they were beautiful. She told me she had just bought herself new earrings the day before. She told me she had no idea why. We went to a restaurant and during lunch I noticed one of her new earrings was missing. We searched and searched but could not find it. Her grief about the loss of her beloved husband surfaced immediately. I sent a prayer to the Tara goddesses. I hoped she would receive some help and love. I knew her loss was overpowering. When we returned to my home I got out of the car and immediately started walking across our hay fields. I walked quite a long way. I suddenly looked down in the very tall grass . Right there I found the earring. It was literally like finding a needle in a haystack. I live on 32 acres. We both cried.
A blessing to find “a needle in a haystack “!
The floor greeted me like an old friend,
cool & sure beneath my knees.
I had dropped—without question,
without ego—just dropped.
Unlike the others, who stood tall & talking,
I folded into the quiet language of ground-dwellers.
There, on the level of crumbs & claws,
a small dog approached—rescued,
but not yet convinced she’d been saved.
She rumbled—a growl more ancient than threat,
rolling like thunder across linoleum.
Still, I stayed low,
less predator, more question mark.
One paw, then another.
A sniff. A hesitant orbit.
Then she climbed me like uncertain terrain,
her bandicoot nose pressed to mine—
not in trust, but in truce.
Topsy.
Of course her name would be Topsy.
A name that sounds like a tumble,
like something tipped gently from a shelf
& never quite landed—just kept going,
until she found me, folded on the floor.
We saw each other better that way.
Bent. Close.
Astonishment, not in her softness,
but in her decision to meet me there.
I’ve been living this way my entire life—
on the floor of things,
where the stories come sniffing,
& something wild remembers my name.
――――――――――――――――――――
Dearest Suleika,
I don’t know this particular kind of ache,
but I am reminded of my sweet friend
who once described chemo as wearing
a crown woven from bitterness & metal.
I just hope today there’s the crunch of something you can stomach,
the constant feel of fur, & sun, or rain depending on mood
& some small proof that beauty hasn’t left the room.
My stage 4 cancer bestie is on chemo this week too. Her normally vibrant, shiny voice faded to a whisper. Her mum reminded her to shift her sorry arse out to the park with her pooch, Bowie.
She stayed two hours.
Listened to children laughing.
Children she knows she can’t have.
I’m so damn proud of her.
She lifted herself out of the mire. She apologised to her body for the perverse infusion of drugs that freeze her soul.
Chemoxity shifts each day but boy it doesn’t feel like it on day 1,2,3,4,5.
I’m proud of you too Suleika.
In solidarity, in sisterhood. In power. 🦋🩵🙏🏽
Taking the dogs to the park is the perfect way to shift our sorry arses! Never fails 🐶❤️
The humans are merely attached to the dogs walking by or at the park. Dogs own humans, and they are a wonderful way to lift spirits. I will ignore the human attached to the leash. I do say 'hello doggie' as they walk by. And I know most dog lovers do the same thing.
Hello human!😉
I am currently dog-less, but fill the need for dog kisses and pets by going to the woods where they are walking with their people. That and planning my trip to the mail room at prime dog walking time.
Borrowing dog snuggles is one of my necessaries. My brother has a cockapoo and a French bulldog. Never fail to make me leap around! 🩵🤩
All of your words are very powerful here, Mel, and the two sentences, “She lifted herself out of the mire. She apologised to her body for the perverse infusion of drugs that freeze her soul.” This is such an incredibly beautiful action of giving oneself love and compassion, something everyone needs to learn in life. 🩷
Thank you Susan. I have been through chemo and am likely to do so again. As I accompany my friend through hers, I feel the dark stickiness of it and also the need to take our feet out of the sloop and move to higher ground. It’s remarkable what survival looks like. Thank you so much for your words. Sending love ❤️
In reading today's post, I remembered a story I read many years ago. In it, a woman described coming out of a store to the parking lot where she had left her elderly father waiting in the car. What she witnessed was her father walking around the parking lot placing heads-up pennies on the ground. When questioned why, he replied that someone had to. He was placing them so that people might find the penny and believe a little good luck had come their way. Since then, I always pick up the penny and wonder if someone put it there for me to find just when I needed it. And, I thank them for caring.
“Someone had to” is my new go to ❤️
I have done this! Pennies are not much use in our society, so if I get too many of them and they weigh down my purse, I send them off into the universe. I have also been known to find a penny face-up and pick it up. I am not sure of the rules but I think finding the penny is what makes it lucky for the holder. So, I pick it up and claim it as my own. Then I think there are no rules that I have to keep the penny. I return it to the ground for the next person to find.
Oh I am so glad
To know I am not alone in turning over pennies. Your Dad had the best luck, having you as his daughter.
This woman’s father sounds like a gem. 🩷
Stringing together the tiniest of glimmers is my approach to life these days when I’m not traveling or getting out much. A combination of responsibilities, including my sweet senior dog, and my introverted need to nest at home, have reduced the big moments and somewhat sanded down the texture that distinguishes most days.
But seeing and naming the tiny things lifts me and gives each day a sense of possibility I might otherwise miss. Like your nest of cardinal’s eggs. Which became my early morning glimmer after asking my mother last night to send me a sign, a cardinal, to let me know she’s with me. She passed away 8 weeks ago. Cardinals and pennies are both strong messages from Heaven. So thank you for that glimmer of a hello.
Sending you lots of love, Suleika.
Abby, my heart to you. My mother died 6 weeks ago and I too feel the introverted need to nest at home, and find myself just staring into space a lot. But if I “wake up” just a bit, the glimmers quietly work their way in, particularly the cardinal who is still singing in my neighborhood way past his mating season, the 5 baby bunnies who chased each other madly around the yard one afternoon, and the turning of time as the trees flower and leaf out. My deepest sympathy to you for your loss.
Linda, thank you for this! Sending my deepest condolences to you, too!
❤️❤️❤️
Sending you love, dear Abby. ❤️
Good Morning All. I am grateful for this mornings readings. Both have so much packed in. I loved “An example of a ‘glimmer’—the opposite of a trigger. Moments of joy we come across in our everyday lives.” Yes, exactly. A glimmer. A tiny gem. A bit of beauty that lifts us from the mundane, from the drudgery, from the crueler aspects of living. What sweet relief." I am overwhelmed with more diagnosis after a brief time of doing better. These weeks have more tests and doctors appointments. And we are looking for a new home that is smaller, " take us into our next chapter" home. And it is overwhelming. And so I loved the getting down low and think small. Thank you.
May each glimmer find you in these weeks & beyond, Gina. You shimmer here, even in the heaviness.
❤️
I, too, loved, “An example of a ‘glimmer’-the opposite of a trigger.” I also loved your words, “Take us into our next chapter” home. I hope you find glimmers every day in the weeks to come. 🩷
❤️
Dear Suleika,
I just finished Between Two Kingdoms, which meant so much to me. I share your passion for travel, and especially loved the roadtrip to meet people you befriended online when you were sick. And your commitment to writing even a little bit when you were so sick and now here you are connecting to so many and touching so many people’s lives. I especially loved the part where Jon kissed your portal and told you you are the most beautiful person he’s ever met. I have a wife like that, who’s been with me for twenty years, doing all the work of keeping the house going, sticking by me through dark periods, especialIy when I spiral down into the “I am a burden” well. Sleeping so much for so many years, I say to her when she goes out, “Please don’t find some Awake lady who will steal you away.” But for all these years, we have had Story, where she reads to me as I drift in and out of sleep. She has a beautiful voice. A couple of years ago, a few months apart from each other, we lost our 15 year old magical kitties, a brother and sister we found on the street in Cambodia. Well, you know how that goes. Ugh. We now have 3 boy kitties - Maxy, hurricane foster who decided to stay, and his two little brothers, Grasshopper (aka Freckles) and Bumblebee. They love to play on the lanai and are all often too busy with kitten business for cuddling with mommies. Freckles will only take his affection on the bathmat in front of the toilet. I lie on the bathroom floor and sing songs to him about how wonderful he is. He particularly likes “Ella sings Cole Porter” style. He gets so happy and affectionate and gets under me while I do child’s pose in front of the toilet, rolling kind of underneath me while I sing, resting my cheek on him and petting and kissing him to my heart’s content. The last thing I wanted to tell you is my journal entry for today would be called “The Chipped Nailpolish” because several weeks ago I had a “good energy day”, my battery charged to the point where I had the stamina to paint my nails. But alas, that energy never returned to remove said nailpolish. I thought you would understand. Thank you for all you are. -Mary Lynn
I pick up pennies, always have. Never having given it much thought, until today, I think I do so because it looks so lonely and out of place in its new location. It belongs with its mates or in the little saucer next to the cash register in Stewarts. I'm 78 and my husband is 81 and has severe health issues. It's a challenging time. My 51 year old daughter is facing serious health issues. As difficult as it is, I believe that years are a blessing and that, yes, we find beauty in some of the smallest, most hidden places. Thank you, Suleika and this community for your strength, support and sweet salve in this life.
Sending love to you and your fam, Sara, and wishing you strength and comfort ❤️
Thank you. Sending the very same back to you and your family. I grew up, taught high school, was elected as Town Supervisor once I retired from teaching and continue to live in Greenwich. Many of my creative friends know your mom.
Me too Sara, coming up, I have always taught my child to look down, people drop and lose change everywhere. Depending on where we walk, each penny is earned, and a message almost always comes with the pick.
Early 80’s driving with my love Mchael from nyc to Quebec. A boring ride of nothingness until we came across a huge field of buttercups. Buttercups are bright yellow, small & when I see a huge field of them, Michael and I runout barefoot and rather the buttercups tickling my feet & then laying down in them feeling like I’m resting in a feathered bed & looking up to the sky & seeing blue blue sky with lots of clouds that look like so many things. Feeling at peace & that I owned the world. A beautiful moment looking from the ground up. Goddess bless this beautiful community, which is sometimes a brokenhearted community. Why? Because in this community we’re encouraged to be who we are
Whenever my 2 year old grandchild comes over, I spend a lot of time on my knees! So many things to discover crouched down. Yesterday we found some tiny dollhouse treasures under the bed, and picked up pinecones and small speckled rocks outside. On the deck, there were last summer’s shriveled grapes and small tiny twigs. She notices everything, and has now discovered pockets too, perfect for keeping these little precious things :) It helps so much to see things from this glimmery down-low and up-close perspective, thank you for this wonderful prompt 💐🎈
I've found evergreens with pine cones make for GREAT fairy tree houses for little ones. Twigs make great furniture. Etc.
Oh, those precious things. She will remember these moments with you collecting treasures, forever.
How fun! I love children. And how wonderful that she has discovered pockets for the treasures she finds. 😊❤️
My family calls those moments Winks from the Universe. I celebrated my 70th birthday this past week and every year I’m astonished that I’m still here after having several near misses along the way.
I have a little 2 inch Van Gogh figure from a Lego kit of his Starry Night painting and I take him on adventures. He’s been on the platform feeder with the birds where they tolerate him in a comical way, he’s been to the Potomac River and the produce department at the grocery. He’s always up for an adventure and I take his picture so I don’t forget that it’s not the great big things in life to hope and wait for, it’s the everyday silly little things that are the Winks from the Universe.
Suleika, the Universe is sparkling and glimmering for you in spite of chemo or anything else that conspires to get in your way. You already know this and you inspire me to live each precious day with raw astonishment. Thank you.✨
I love “winks from the universe”❤️
“Winks from the Universe”…I just read your words aloud to my husband & he loved them! Your Van Gogh figure who you take on adventures & photograph made me think of my friend Beth doing the same with a 2 or 3 inch penguin figurine. I used to have a fear of penguins when I was a child & which Beth has remembered. She has sent me photos of her little penguin in all kinds of places…Restaurants, hotel beds, the Grand Canyon, the list goes on & on. Thank you for putting a smile on my face & bringing fun memories back to me, this afternoon! 😎🩷
Thank you for making my day, Susan!🥰 I love that Beth included you in her penguin’s adventures.☺️ I hope you and your husband absorb Winks from the Universe into your lives and share it with family and friends when you have those wonderful winks in your own lives. That phrase has caused me to be more aware of the little things that have made a difference in my life.
And I’m a huge fan of Van Gogh too!
❤️🌹
P.S. Van Gogh is my husband’s favorite artist.
I wrote this one morning from my bed, looking out the window, when I woke up in 2024 and didn’t know what condition i would find my husband Jose ( now of blessed memory) It helped me to move forward:
Movement begins in a single leaf
Then two more join in
Twinkling in the early morning light
Soon to be joined by a chorus of birds
As leaves joined in from top to bottom
Places to go
Taking a breath
Letting it go
Each on its own
Not letting go
Positions secured
relationships renewed
The day begins
The wind blows
NancyHannah Torres
Love! ❤️
Warm wishes to you, Jon and your pack, Suleika. xo
The small moment this morning, watching a blackbird in the stone birdbath, fluffed up and dipping, pausing long moments and preening, half in shadow and half in the brilliant morning sun. He turned, looking straight at me in the window, caught mid-preen, like a big pom pom ball. For those couple of minutes, I was out of my head, in communion with Mr Blackbird. We both bobbed a hello-goodbye. I stepped back into my day, but my mind's eye holds this lovely image of connection—today's glimmer.
Love this blackbird as pompom but of beauty ❤️❤️
The toddlers in my pre-school classroom astonish and delight me with their perspectives, and remind me to be curious. One asked me: "do goldfish have engines?" I nudge myself to be amazed by the seemingly mundane as it's not that mundane, after all!
I used to teach first grade and I remember all of their young questions! 😊🩷
I love that!! Jeannie, we are fellow teachers (or are they our teachers?) of young children.
This is so wonderful - and I now want a children's book about a Goldfish with an engine! Love this!
I love how they see the world when they are so young. 2yos-middle of 4th grade is wonderful. It's how they see the world. Kids are such wonderful teachers.
And once again, your message is spot on and exactly what I needed to hear this week. 2025 has been shit - the orange man in chief and his team of idiots, my mom is unwell, I’ve had to start going back into the office which involves a long, traffic-filled commute, we all got Covid on vacation in April, and my husband has a mystery illness for the past week that he can’t shake. Despite all of this, I’m trying really hard to look on the bright side and be grateful that we have food and shelter and the love of family and friends. And, of course, this isolation journal community, that warms my heart every week.
Dear Suleika - I hope your melancholy continues to improve and you always see the beauty around you. You are loved.
Honestly, getting on with it, a call to action. I want big things, a world where all people are respected, where poverty is diminished along with hunger. I love Maria Montessori, her original vision for children --and how when observing the conditions people were struggling with made a change and did something. This week, i read one of my daughters posts about the books she read as a child in a Montessori school and how today that opportunity is being taking away. I love Bruce, Taylor, Jon--taking their platform to do big things. And now before I wash my face, I will sweep the weeds.
Each small contribution makes a difference…
and we never know to what or whom!
I started my teaching career in a Montessori school. First grade.