TEMPEST (working title) new novel 3/22/14

Stormie McClelland has fire in her soul and a tempest in her veins. She's no stranger to chaos, being born in the eye of a brutal thunderstorm that took the life of her father, while leaving her mother a widow at 22. Life has always been a challenge she's been forced to deal with, but that has made her stronger than steel. Always the fighter, it has become her blessing and worst enemy, since women admire her and men fear her. Love for that reason has always eluded her, and so she has accepted her lot in life as a lone wolf.  

  Don Castle is a prominent landowner and millionaire in the town of Wild Vines, a sprawling spread of lush landscape bordering Niagara-on-the Lake, deep in the heart of wine country and the richest tourist attractions all summer long. Don, handsome, suave and late forties is sought after by all the available women in Wild Vines, but he has become bored with the limited selection of Botox Barbie dolls and gold diggers.  When he collides with Stormie in a showdown over land rights, he is awakened by her stunning dark beauty and feisty attitude. Finally, a woman who hates him and stands out from the crowd. He is hooked. There's just one problem: Stormie curses the day he was born, and that poses a real challenge. 

  During the thunderstorm of the year, their lives will change in the blink of an eye. Tragedy will come with a vengeance, people bearing bad blood will band together, and soon two hearts will be forced to face one another, like it or not. Thrown together by a car crash that nearly takes their lives, two lonely souls will find the courage to face all their demons and put trivial things behind them, in a quest for survival and above all, the miraculous healing power of love. 

--Rochelle Renee  3/22/14 

SUPERNATURAL BLESSINGS

When was the last time you made a wish to the heavens or sent a prayer to God for something you really needed, in your moment of dire need? How did the end result materialize? Was your wish granted?

Recently, I suffered a disappointment in a personal matter, and I was grieving the loss of this person in my life; it felt like a death, and I was seriously blindsided by the crippling pain I felt over the incident. Its crushing blow left me with a gaping hole so deep in my heart, that it brought suppressed feelings from my failed marriage to the surface, forcing me to deal with it all over again.

Yesterday with the mild weather, I decided to get some fresh air and go for a power walk, hoping to get some clarity and inner peace. The plan was to go to the bank, get some money out, grab a coffee at Tim Horton's and catch a bus to another town some 13 miles away to see my friend, Renee, and her new baby.

Heading down the street, I said a prayer: "God, I'm weary today and do not want to take 3 buses to get to my friend's place. Please send a driver." That was a good 90 minute trip(with the 3 bus transfers it took one way), and my grief was consuming me over this issue in my life.
Of course, it seemed like a far fetched idea, to have a driver appear out of nowhere, someone I knew and trusted, right?

In the next breath, I looked at the sky and said, "Where is Donald when I need him?" Being heartbroken over this one particular other guy, I figured the only thing that would comfort me right now was to get my mind on this heart throb named Don who God had placed in my path just 7 weeks before. My heart would just soar when I saw him, he was that good looking, suave and engaging; my dream man personified. At 6-foot-4, broad shouldered, piercing, steel blue eyes and great hair, he made me swoon.

About forty minutes later, I had done my banking and coffee run, was crossing the street at the red light, and there was a single vehicle waiting there. My eyes instantly went to the black GM Suburban with the male driver and my heart stopped. It was Donald, my handsome satellite installer, who had given me wireless internet just seven weeks before, and had left a lasting impression. I could not get him out of my mind, and constantly, wished I could run into him in the small town where I live. (Come on now, there were only a few thousand people living here, so how impossible could it be, to  see him?)

Suddenly, I felt prickles of delight rush over my skin. Glancing at him, I waved shyly. He waved back, pointing south bound, and signalling "are you going that way?" I nodded, and he gestured for me to come before the light changed to green. There was no hesitation here on my part at all.  I got in. Riding along with him was pure bliss, being so close there beside me, and I was on cloud nine. Those blue eyes melted me, and his charismatic voice and manner set me at ease.

The wonder and beauty of that moment just took my breath away. I believe it was a supernatural blessing from the hand of God; there is no other explanation for having a wish granted so quickly, in less than an hour of requesting it. Better still, with the one man of my dreams, whom I'd wished to run into for seven weeks. I could not believe my luck!

As we drove, he asked me how my satellite signal was working, and I mentioned it had its issues periodically, but overall, it was fine. Openly, we chatted about our kids (who attend the same high school), about work, and various other things. He opened up to me, sharing important details on his life growing up that touched my heart, and I thought it was amazing to hear about it, as well as a death in the family that impacted him dramatically.

That was not the only miraculous part, it was the fact that we were conversing so effortlessly, like two people with a strong connection, who'd known each other for a long time. Gone were the previous nerves that I always felt around him, because his presence usually made me intimidated. Now, though, I saw him as a good friend and the interaction was painless.

Donald saved me over an hour of travel time, got me there safely in good hands, and he made me smile the entire way there, as we shared lighthearted banter that chased away the earlier grief that had been consuming me. He was my godsend, and I felt my heart swell with pride, catching his intent gaze as he spoke, and feeling those butterflies take wing in my mid section. The miracle at finding him has been monumental for me; I now regard him as one of my favourite men, and trust me, that's a rare confession coming from me.

What a blessing, to know that my heart was so heavy that day, and I felt I could not endure, with the pain I had been suffering. How greater a blessing was it that I asked God to send Donald, and here he was! I shiver with pleasure over the fact that this amazing thing happened to me at all. Miracles, if we keep our hearts open, are everywhere, and we should always be receptive and aware of them at all times.

This story serves as a beautiful reminder that we need to thank our Maker for the supernatural gifts he brings us, whether randomly or in our times of need. I know without a doubt I will never forget the significance of this act of kindness from Don. He doesn't know it, but he's helping with the recovery process, and it's something I'm infinitely grateful for.

When in your life have you had the chance to experience a supernatural blessing? How did it impact you during that time and was it an answered prayer in your darkest moment?

The Passion Chronicles would like to know your story. Feel free to share anytime.

Love and Peace,

~ RR <3

HEROES OF OUR HEARTS

 Romantic love is one kind of love that I like to celebrate here at the Passion Chronicles, but this blog today is dedicated to the ‘other’ loves of our lives, the Ones who fill us with passion, inspire us to become better, more evolved, happier, fitter, stronger, braver, more dedicated to our craft, whether through our career or artistry, or just via personal, spiritual evolution.

  Today, I want to salute one such hero of my heart, and he is Mr. Kelly Mitchell. In January of this year, I published a Local Heroes segment in the newspaper, saluting him, his career, and the profound impact that he has had on me.  Mitcho, as I like to call him fondly, is my personal hero and muse for some of the fiction writing that takes up a huge mass of my heart and time. When he found out he was nominated (personal email arrived to his inbox from the newspaper), he was elated to have been given this award. In a career spanning more than 20 years, Mitcho has been encouraging and mentoring people with job search and resumes, and he does an amazing job at it.

 For me, however, it was more than just taking a resume writing class with him. It all began on a mild Halloween Monday, when I decided to take this two week class that he taught. Since that day, I have been forever impacted by his guidance, expertise and charisma. If I could use the title Earth Angel for him (yes, he is going to roll his eyes at me) then that is the role I surely see him in. Let me share the reasons that he and seemed to jive well in this interaction. First, I had gone through a bitter marital breakup with a "Kelly"and had a hard time not cringing whenever the name was called out somewhere randomly in public. Getting over the aftermath from that bad experience definitely helped me to see that not all Kelly`s were bad news. Secondly, I had this burning hatred for men; the wreckage my heart experienced from that heartbreak definitely left me with no trust at all for the male species, save for the few male friends I had that were strictly platonic.  But Mitcho definitely helped me (indirectly) overcome these bitter feelings and advanced the healing process. For that, I am eternally grateful. So in many ways, he is not only a teacher, but a healer, too; imagine that!

  Fiction writing has been a blazing passion of mine since I was seven. First, it was short stories about ponies and elephants, and then by age 14, it progressed to novels. In my teens, I was consumed with writing novels, but then I hit a roadblock in my twenties and could not finish a novel if my life depended on it. Writer`s block was a serious blockade for me that lasted far too long.

   Fast forward to Halloween 2011, and there I was, among the class, meeting this brilliant mind and winning personality who would forever have an imprint on me, not only changing the way I saw people, but transforming my entire world. Mitcho is a shining example of someone who truly loves his job, who mentors people one-on-one, with a compassion and concern I have rarely seen in a teacher. He has become that One who inspires my writing, and in seven short weeks, I wrote a novel called `Passion` that I am truly proud of; it comes after a 13 year hiatus of severe writer`s block, where no novels came to fruition during the driest period of my writing career.

  How can one person impact another so deeply ? It seems the human spirit connects with others on a level we cannot always fathom, yet it is always timely and much needed. The interesting part is that writing resume`s has nothing to do with writing novels, but his influence on my personal growth and self-love seemed to blossom in a surreal way. The gift of Kelly Mitchell in my life is something I will always cherish, and I imagine his family is eternally grateful to God for experiencing daily the priceless gift that he represents to them as well.

  When you find a hero of the heart who is platonic, hold onto him or her, please; do not take for granted that these amazing people are placed in our path for mentoring, growth, or to show compassion, are truly here to help us unravel the layers, to heal those broken parts of us, or to help us progress to that higher level we have been seeking. I do not know what my life would be like without the presence of Mitcho. There`s a level of human connection between us that is special, significant, intellectual, but most of all, symbolic for me. His birthday even coincides with my favorite bible verse that got me through the hardest times of my life: `To appoint unto them beauty in the place of ashes.` (Isaiah 61:3)  Paying attention to numbers always has a significant role for me, and the 613 caught my eye, causing me to take note.

   So to the hero of my heart, aiding me (indirectly) in the writing process, helping me to see the good in others, letting me be the person God created me to be, and just being there when I need a friend to talk to, I want to salute you, Mitcho. Because you make life seem easy and you`re a dream come true, to those who are hurting and need a gentle hand to guide them back to their destined path.

Thank you.

Love and Peace,

 ~RR <3

The Broken Hearts Club

Love and other casualties. This is the age old dilemma, friends. Love that has been won and lost, making for a shambles of good hearts everywhere.


I know some people who walk around with a permanent chip on their shoulder, bitter at the love that has scorned them. It's not a pretty sight, and it makes a mockery of decent hearts that deserved love for life, for all the right reasons. I really wish I could breathe life into those battered hearts that have given up on the chance at finding genuine love, because some of its victims wander around with no true intent, breaking more hearts and leaving a trail of wreckage as they go.


Welcome to the Broken Hearts Club, where love has slammed the door on those who gave it their best shot, to the bitter end. No one is immune to heartbreak, not anywhere in this world. Put your walls up sky high, and some fox still gets in somewhere. Heads up, those granite walls you built all around you like a fortress, they come down sooner or later, with the emergence of some riveting green eyes, or a dazzling smile you never saw coming. You might feel them start to crumble, with the warmth of a romantic dinner, or fragrant rose petals on bedspread,  and the pure ambiance of candlelight, or perhaps dialogue from the smoothest talker, whispering sultry words of promise in your ear. Just try to run from love, when it's needed so badly in your longing heart, and you make all the excuses available in your little book of rules, and guess what? Love still comes calling, when you have your bulletproof vest on and that big chip on your shoulder. It comes on the gentlest February breeze, from a little riverside town, 80 miles away, whether you like it or not. Sometimes it's sitting beside you in the Native Studies class at University, or it comes waltzing in on a cold winter night at the Dora Keogh Irish pub, roguish, sly and leather-clad, amid the acoustic trio playing sensational tunes and abundant camaraderie from the happy patrons.


Try running from its force, and you don't stand a chance; love holds the force of a hurricane, the depth of an ocean, and in moments, you are swept away by its magnitude. The heart always knows what it needs, regardless of the thousand little lies we tell ourselves. That's because it's beating constantly, pumping life force into us, 24 hours a day, reminding us that we are human, ALIVE, feeling and deserving of its essence... and like a clock, still ticking, beat by beat, measure by measure, we realize that though love breaks us down, it is just as conniving around the corner, like a thief in the night, waiting to swoop down and carry us away on wings of promise, renewing us and giving us that sense of hope that, although we paid the price of a love gone wrong, we still deserve to have its beauty and reward.


Broken hearts need mending, and those who do not allow themselves the "gift" of healing are sadly mistaken. Blaming oneself for what went wrong is not the remedy. We cannot mend if we are constantly blaming ourselves for that marriage that ended prematurely, the spouse who abandoned us "too soon" or the brand new love that seemed so perfect, so compatible, that somehow did not get off the ground, as we anticipated.


Running away is worse, still. I have seen runners, and they are the saddest, emptiest people. They often times have the most supportive circle of friends and potential mates encompassing them, but they decided to sabotage all the good and take off in lightning-quick speed. Far, far away from the love that they deserve but refuse to see or FEEL. They become numb, totally devoid, and they let the hurt build up even higher, masking all the pain that they never dealt with properly. Love leaves us like death, and when we do not grieve it properly, wish it well and send it on a proper burial, the most heart wrenching fact is that we walk around so bitterly with our battle scars, preying on the innocent lovers who did nothing to cause that pain; they, though, become the next victims of this ruined love. Sincere people who do not deserve to suffer at the hands of your tragedy, who only want to help, they become the next casualties of your pain.


Therapy is the answer. If you cannot afford a professional, try a friend who is qualified in matters of the heart, educated, sensible, compassionate, understanding, willing to aid in the healing process. There are books, videos, blogs, countless measures of self-help that are at our fingertips at bookstores and libraries everywhere. I found during the healing process of my failed marriage, the best therapy was music, and plenty of it, all day long, and night time too, before bed. That was the loneliest time. In the dead of winter, too, if you imagine, just days after New Year's. The song that was pivotal for me in helping me heal is an oldie by The Lettermen, called "You'll Never Walk Alone." (Look for the link at the bottom on this blog).

During my recovery, I also had the good fortune to get free counseling from my trusted family friend, Pastor Earl Inman. He was a godsend, truly, and he helped me get back on track and into my heart space, forgiving myself, and showing me that there is in fact life after love has departed. He is one of my personal heroes, and a fellow Taurus too, because he is a strong man of God, his faith solid as a rock. Earl who lost his wife and son, so he is no stranger to loss, and he is a shining example of "life going on." This life motto left a huge imprint on my soul, and I am forever grateful for his wisdom, guidance and mentoring. God sent some amazing men into my life for my own healing, and they have helped me not only with my faith, but with my journey as a writer. Ironic, right, that a man shattered my heart and abandoned me, and now in the place of him came MEN who showed me just how beautiful life can be, while a heart is on the mend.


Let love be the therapy for love that was lost. You can do this. You do not have to face the pain all alone. Pain is a fleeting thing, not permanent, and it takes time to heal and let the wounds close up. The love you let back into your heart will be the saving grace that brings you back to life. Right now, in your slumber of grieving, you cannot feel the beauty that is waiting in the wings, and that is understandable. I cannot emphasize enough how much pain or loss I have faced on this journey, but my heart is a fighter and it gets back in the race every time. It is what has shaped me into the tender, passionate, sensual, strong, valiant Empath that I am today. Without the loss and tragedy, there would be no true, well-rounded, authentic me. Now what fun would that be? Imagine all the lessons and adventures I would have missed along the way!


My prayer for you today is that you will bestow the gift of love upon your shattered heart, and let the wounds heal. Do not become bitter that he or she left you, when you feel that they really should have stayed by your side. Nothing is forever in this life, and we do not readily have the answers for every little shocking departure or letdown. There is one definite thing, though: We are born alone, and we will die, ALONE.


Comfort can be found in knowing that life goes on. The Broken Hearts Club wants to assure you that beauty is waiting around the corner, if you will only answer the door.


Love and Peace,


~ RR <3




P.S. a link to help with the healing process. Enjoy :)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8F6Ub2URvpU

LOVE AND TRUTH GO HAND-IN-HAND

To those who claim to know what love is, I'm sure we would get countless mixed versions on the subject.
Love is, after all, definitive on each individual viewpoint or experience. While love is certainly an age-old study, there are many facets to explore, many avenues of love to learn about.

Today, I want to  propose the concept of love and truth working hand-in-hand, in harmony. Without truth, there are no grounds for trust. Keep trust out of the equation, and you do not have a solid foundation on which to build a lasting thing.

I've met people who toss around the word LOVE as though it were candy. I have also heard the term "TRUST ME" by someone who was the least trustworthy individual out there. Why people think the light of day won't come flooding into the room and shine on the truth, is beyond me.

Honestly, tell someone up front why you are here. It makes no sense, other than for your own carnal gain, to be shady with your agenda. If you're a traveler just drifting through this town of love, then keep moving. Good hearts do not need to be played or bruised and battered, on a sick, twisted ploy to get your momentary pleasure.

Sometimes love comes disguised, well-packaged, in flowers and chocolates, fancy dinners, meeting one's child, cruising around old haunts and showing you their beloved hometown, with the stereo cranked, and warm camaraderie shared between two soulful people, who seemingly share so much in common, in terms of love, parenting, life experience, and spiritual connection. It comes with poetry and heartfelt text messages or emails, flooding in like a tsunami, so convincing and beautiful, drenched in pretty promises.

Then the person tosses around the term "soul mates" and off go the warning bells. "We're destined for one another," is the other classic line. Whoa....wait, slow down, we've only just met. All this effort you're putting out is noble of you, and frankly, yes I'm flattered that you think of me this way, but can we not just ease into this, get to know one another, without the fancy lines and well-glossed chatter?

I have seen love come on strong, hot and heavy, and it fades out just as fast. For God's sake, what is the rush, people? Take the time to enjoy the person, and stop the panic and madness! They're not going anywhere. It's not the deep discount aisle at the local No Frills. If they care for you and it's going to happen, you don't need to manipulate them, pull them in with your schemes, and then run away.

Be truthful. Be direct. Stop playing games. Real people do not "score" like the notch in one's belt or the check mark on one's grocery list.Why do some people feel the need to hide, to conceal, or create one big sham of a performance? In the end, the only person you end up hurting long-term is YOURSELF. You create a trail of discarded hearts, a mess of memories that should have had more significance if you had only stopped to care for these people you left behind in the dust, and then you spend your final days on earth all alone, because your reckless, heartless ways turned you into an unworthy soul whom no one wants to take a chance on, simply because no one TRUSTS you.

At the end of the day, let love and truth go hand-in-hand. Be the difference you want to see in the spectrum of love, and in a world that needs your light. By being truthful to those within your circle, you can make a difference. Games belong on the court, on the ice rink, or the ball diamond, but never where sincere hearts are concerned.

Trusting that love and truth will be your mantra today...

Peace,

~RR <3

KINDNESS

How many of us could use some kindness, on the days when we feel "unkind" or unloveable?

Wouldn't it be nice, to know that someone is right there, allowing us to feel hope or radiance, when we are feeling the worst version of ourselves on one particular day?

There's times we do not want to be positive and caring, and that's okay; we all have bad days, it is part of being human. No one can be 100 % positive ALL THE TIME. That would be a super human, and show me one person who is capable of this? Mother Teresa? The Pope? An archangel, perhaps?

Kindness, as Webster's dictionary outlines, is "the quality or state of being kind; a kind act."

Have you ever shown kindness in the face of adversity? Or been at the receiving end of one such gesture?

I can recall one incident at college about ten years ago. There was this girl who had a sarcastic wit about her, and she always showed up to the Chronicle room where we wrote our news stories, and I was convinced by her snappy dialogue and dominant personality that she despised me. This, I discovered, was not the case. But it's funny how people rub us the wrong way, especially when we do not know the entire story going on behind the scenes. I just assumed she was a miserable grouch and she hated her life, or was disgruntled about a boyfriend who'd dumped her.

Being an Empath -- deeply sensitive and spiritual person who feels EVERYTHING around me -- I was startled by the degree of attitude coming from this girl. Oh God, it was overwhelming at times.

One day, I decided to do what the Bible says about our enemy; to "heap fiery coals upon their head" by showing love instead of anger.

“if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” (Romans 12:20)

This particular girl was having a rough day, I could tell. Perhaps she was stressed by the degree of news stories we all had to submit for the deadline. Or maybe she was just moody or hormonal during her time of the month.

At any rate, I was nicknamed the "Ice Capp Addict" because I frequented the Tim Horton's at least twice a day for the frozen treat. During an afternoon break from writing, I decided to grab a croissant from Tim's and an Iced Cappuccino. Anyone who knows what these are, can agree with me, there's nothing like them anywhere. Every other day at Tim Horton's for croissants, they alternated between a "butter" croissant and a cheese croissant. Well, I had this inner prompting to grab two of them. My thoughts went to the girl in class who seemed stressed and agitated.

Returning to class, I placed the little brown bag on the table, pushing it towards her. Immediately, with shock, she blurted out "no, that's okay, I'm fine." It was almost like she was too proud to accept my gesture of kindness. Now, myself, I relate to people on a level of random acts of kindness, through gift gifting or small acts of service, because that is one of my love languages (Gary Chapman: The Five Love Languages). So when someone rejects my kind gesture, I immediately feel offense; dusting myself off, I just settled into another news edit, and went on with the writing at that table.

No more than ten minutes later, the girl piped up "On second thought, maybe I WILL take that croissant!" She said it with an awkward, boisterous laugh. I was deeply moved, and flattered beyond words. The ice queen had accepted my gift! From that moment on, I suddenly "got" her sarcastic humour, and she was won over by my choice to ignore her snappy mood. In time, I began to realize that this is just the way she is; on a good day or bad day, she bears a cynicism and sharp wit that others would take as moody or abrupt. Simply put, though, it is her way of expressing herself. We all have our own unique makeup of personality on how we convey ourselves to the world. (Growing up, I was though of as weird, quiet, reclusive, different, anti-social, the Lone Wolf by most, because I am an introvert. But that's just ME, the way God formed me. And I do not have to apologize for my own unique genetic beauty)

                                                                                            

Can you see though, how a random act of kindness can make someone's day, and also turn a so-called enemy into a friend?

I now have a legendary anecdote to pull out once in a while, to share with others, on this moment of beauty between two people. Casting all assumptions aside, I was able to give this girl a gift of friendship, despite the icy shoulder she was giving me. 

Showing kindness in moments of seemingly impossible circumstances with those who give us a cold countenance can be turned into a blessing, if we let the flow of our hearts rule out the flow of negativity.

Try it on for size sometime. Kindness really does work. I'm sure we have been shown kindness in a moment when we were terribly unlovable or angry.

What stories do you have to share about a random act of kindness you received? I would be interested to know just what transpired.

Love and Peace,

~RR xo

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

In a world of strings, high demands and conditions placed on us, it's no wonder society has made the condition of love to be placed under glass...no wait, make that a concrete jail cell. Confined to a small space, conformed by strict rules that suffocate and do not allow breathing space.


We place restraints on our loved ones: Buy me this, do that one thing I asked for, color your hair like this...maybe, just maybe, if you obey my demands, I will love you in return.


The whole scheme of it makes the term 'Unconditional Love' seem like an oxymoron. How can a person have "love" for another when they are not speaking from their heart? I have never comprehended how people go to the altar with their robotic vows of "I promise to love, honour and cherish you...till we part in death." Love, like respect, should be earned in the simplest terms, with a fair exchange of human energy that flows naturally, not forced under a façade of string-pulling, wooden marionette-like moves.


Valentine's Day is a prime example I like to use for the model of "conditional love." People, pick ONE day out of the year when we proclaim our undying love to one person...while 364 other days, we wrestle against flesh and blood, demanding our partner "bends" to fit our pre-conceived fantasy of what a perfect partner should behave like, forcing our alleged "life mate" into a weird, twisted prison.


I'm qualified to discuss this topic, and I speak passionately about it, having been through failed marriage myself and other relations -- becoming, as a result, an expert on love and other fatalities.


For singles, dating in this modern age can be a real nightmare. First, depending on what age group you fall under, the amount of "available" people has diminished greatly. I'll use the 35-45 age range as an example. Let's get one thing straight: we ALL come with baggage, those fragments from our former lives with failed relations, some of us with children (making it hard to blend them into a new or mixed family), others showing emotional scars from love gone wrong.


Finding a sincere, "legit" partner who is willing to take you on -- scars, baggage, and all-- can be so daunting. What if one of you comes to the table with full authenticity, willing to accept whatever the other person is carrying? ie: smoker, has 3 kids, shorter than your normal criteria of 6 feet tall, lives 80 miles away, isn't necessarily your "type" in the looks department, you somehow clicked during online chats and phone conversations, on a deep emotional and spiritual level, so what the heck right? Why not give it a shot?


These are traits of someone willing to go the extra mile and take a chance on love. Sounds like it could be the start of something "unconditional,"  to me.


Then, there's that other partner, trying to mold you into someone you're not. "Lose a few pounds," they suggest. "Dye your hair blond, be a little crazier, or less emotionally honest, act aloof, and not so into me. And by the way, could you please be a little more like my mother? Maybe then I'll love you."


All these encompass the profile of a person who wants to trap you, so they can "win" at a sick, twisted game of love -- and getting themselves nowhere in the process. They just wind up even lonelier and more isolated.


I've discovered that though men are extremely superficial in their criteria to finding the ideal partner, they too, like women, crave emotional intimacy, but sadly, they were programmed since childhood to be schooled in masculine ethics of "don't show emotion, or you'll look like a pussy." Opening up too fast...no dude, that's not manly at all.


Gentlemen, why not try holding a door for her, greet her at the train with flowers, text her in the morning with "Hello beauty." All romantic gestures that melt an Evolved Woman's heart. But again, society has placed restraints on a man's behavior and attitudes toward love, so the dashing hero of yesteryear has become nearly extinct.


Who, then, is to blame for this? Men? Or is it women?


Have we ladies emasculated men so badly in our quest for "equal rights" and independence that we have unknowingly "killed off" the one type of man we unconsciously crave? I think it is safe to say that we're almost all guilty of sabotage here.


What's my version of Unconditional Love, you ask? Well, for starters, if the man wants to grab food with the boys at Shoeless Joe's to watch a Leafs game, let him go. With the shoe on the other foot, I'd like to see him try to stop me from enjoying a fabulous girls night out at karaoke with my fiery sidekick Susan, who happens to know I deliver the best rendition of "My Guy" in the whole region.


Unconditional Love works both ways, people. What if your man forgot the shopping list at home and overlooked the fact that you wanted avocado to make your world class guacamole and nachos for American Idol night? Are you going to crucify him over it, and make him sleep on the sofa tonight?


These forms of punishment are not only petty, they're downright childish. Everyone screws up once in a while, so we should show mercy on our partner and drop the issue altogether. I have watched long-married couples bicker over the smallest things, and it rips me apart inside, knowing they are headed for divorce court in mere months.


It would appear that Unconditional Love is reserved just for saints and angels, because these days, I come across very few people practicing it. We are all tied down to false pretense, financial demands, chasing the Joneses, competing with one another neck-and-neck, because Jane has a hotter husband/bf or she works out constantly and her body is fitter. Such nonsense!


Where is the real human connection, in this digital age of iPhones, iPads, Escalades, yoga studios, fancy vacations, and Coach purses?


One of my own personal criteria for the ideal partner is finding someone 'real' who speaks from the heart, not hiding behind grand schemes and tactics to I'll fall prey to his mind games. He should be healthy -- yes, mainly in the mind-- but he doesn't have to look like Simon Baker or have the abs of Mr. Universe to make my mercury rise. Honesty, humour, romance, spiritual connection...these are what I consider "hot."


As I get older, I realize the things that seemed important in my '20s are no longer valid in my '30s. Money is great, it buys cars, houses, security, a better dental plan, that trip to Ireland that I always yearned for...but worshipping money and seeking a partner primarily for that falls under the "conditional" love category.


What if we all just sat down right now and conjured up a list of the ideal partner -- without the trappings of status, power, money, looks etc?


I wonder what our list(s) would be comprised of?


Here's a peek into mine:


- Funny (Because if he can't make me bust a gut on my worst day from hell, then I will have to pass)


-Spiritual (Read me some Eckhart Tolle, the Holy Bible, or Celestine Prophecy)


-Snuggly (During a movie at home, he will let me lay against his chest, hold my hand, or caress my hair)


-Respectful (He knows I need an hour a day to debrief from stress, go for a run with my iPod, or to work on my novels)


-Attentive (He knows what I like to eat for dinner, or he's aware that my musical playlist is a mix of oldies, R & B, Top 40 pop, and a LOT of Mariah!)


-Romantic (Thinks up little things to do for me "just because.")


Sounds simple, right?


Well, just try finding all these amazing traits in one man. Not an easy task to do. Notice how I left out eye color, height, weight, body type and career? (Superficial, I am not)


In 37 years, I have found it next to impossible to find my so-called 'perfect' man, as outlined by this list. (He isn't perfect though, ironically; he has flaws, battle scars from love gone wrong; mistakes from the past and childhood wounds; he seeks a Higher Power and is in tune with the universal flow, and all this makes him an Evolved Man....and so irresistible, in my eyes.)


I have a feeling he is much closer than I think. I'd like to believe that 'Unconditional Love' is at the core of his heart, too, and it will follow him right to my doorstep.


Who wants to find a pen and start their list tonight of an ideal partner with these Unconditional Love aspects?


Try it on your significant other, perhaps, and see what good transpires tonight. You'll be surprised how easy it is to try this Unconditional Love thing.


Love and Peace,


~RR <3

MERCY: The Golden Rule

Recently this week, I had the misfortune of someone close to me lashing out and deleting me from facebook without first warning me they were going to do the deed. Caught off guard and a little bruised in the ego, I sent an inbox to this person to inquire as to why they were cutting me off from a long standing friendship. Well, believe me when I confess the results of their heated reply. Just shy of calling me the worst person alive, they blasted me with cruel obscenities, labelled me a "heartless, selfish c#*t, and explained that my negative energy was sucking the good out of them and they couldn't handle that "low vibration" and non-affirming actions of positive energy. This stunned me hardcore, as I proudly consider myself to be positive and always showing light everywhere I journey.

Hit hard in the stomach, my first reaction was to retaliate and toss curse words back with my Irish temper; being Taurus and Irish does not make combat pretty for this woman. The next thought that filled my mind was a quote my Pastor Earl told me six years ago: "you can't fight fire with fire."
He was certainly right; so in the recent years that have passed, I try to apply this advice to issues of
confrontation.

What struck me most about this accuser was that they were telling me how negative I was. This blew me out of the water. Negative and positive energy is part of our world, it is what makes the cosmos tick, so this person's unrealistic view that one must be positive 24/7 is just a failing theory. We all have our bad days. That one day when the bus goes by and sprays us with rain water, or we spill our coffee clumsily on our pant leg when we have an important work meeting to rush to; or perhaps it's the migraine that you just can't seem to kill with several coffee's, a gallon of water or Advil. You get the picture, right?

I think an electrician would even tell you that the universe needs both positive and negative aspects for it to work effectively.

Back to the original theme of this blog...my so called best friend who spoke to me daily was accusing me of being negative. Well, I consider it a privilege to share or vent on an issue of great concern, and likewise, this person would do it with me. They just refused to see that they also had issues in their life that were weighing me down as well, but as a devoted friend and loyal listener, I chose to suck it up and hear of their repeated cycle of toxic relationship with a partner that has been going on for two years.

I should point out that my written words on facebook in response to this accuser bore warm words of mercy, rather than retaliating with the anger I felt at that heated moment. Am I sure glad that I did! In the face of adversity, we are placed with a test; what we do with this test is our responsibility. My written words can be copied, pasted and sent all over cyber space to whomever this adversary wishes to smear my image with. In that case, check me off that blackmail list!

Mercy, the great word that Webster's dictionary calls "compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one's power; lenient or compassionate treatment," is definitely something we could all use from time to time in our human plight. How many times have we or someone else we know behaved badly during a heated argument and said things we wished desperately we could take back? I suppose we are all guilty of it at some point in time.

But there's people hurting that we encounter on our daily walk who need love and mercy more than others. If we do not help them along their journey, how will they ever learn to heal? A favourite quote of mine is "be kind to unkind people; they are the ones who need it most."

Another is a verse in the Bible that teaches compassion and mercy:  "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful also." ~Luke 3:36

While the damaging accusations of this person certainly crushed my ego, I took a step back to ponder what message they were trying to get across. With my self evolution of recent years, I pride myself on being a lightworker who spreads cheer, positivity and compassion to others. My extensive volunteering for food banks, Lupus Canada, the Optimist Club, Salvation Army and Durham Hospice  seem to speak loudly of what level of compassion my heart flows forth.  It is not simply my doing good deeds that make me awakened to the need of love and mercy on this planet; it is the boundless empathy and care that I extend to those who need me at 3 a.m when they have suicidal thoughts, their significant other abdandoned them, or its the person who just needs to meet for coffee to debrief on their hard, taxing week.  These experiences have opened me up so wide that I am now considering a career in social work.

In closing, I want to stress the importance of being merciful, because it is vital to our collective conscience to show love and mercy to others, even when we feel they do not deserve it.

Try it out this week, in your daily travels, and note the little differences that crop up along the way.

While this friend of mine deleted me, they wished me well and myself in turn did the same. This person has a long history of battling with their mother, so it comes as no shock to me that they ae lashing out to myself, a close female who shares blood ties and a bond.

Nevertheless, my lesson of showing mercy to an unkind person has set me up for a blessing. This week ended on a high note, with the re- add of someone dear to my heart. Gratitude floods me right now, and I'm elated to share the win some, lose some motto.

Be well out there this week in your journey and try this mercy thing on for size. Love and peace, RR <3

SNOWFALL: Novella Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

The funeral plans were scheduled Dec 23, and Kate couldn’t have been more upset. Not only was it cutting into the usual Christmas merriment, but she would have to find something black to wear. That was out of context for Kate’s wardrobe of mostly blues, deep plums, rich beiges, browns, greys and the occasional deep pink. She had grown into a more feminine wardrobe, at the advice of her cousin, and found it worked better than those bygone days of being a tomboy at the farm. Men definitely noticed her when she updated her look, and that was how she’d landed the job at the newspaper.

 Finally, she decided on a black silk shift dress, just above the knee, with a little black sparkly cardigan, and black heels. It was paired with her faur fux black plush coat, the one she wore to holiday parties and gala’s for the newspaper. She had a feeling it was not going to get much use this season, considering she was jobless, single, and in mourning.

   At MacIntosh Funeral Home, the people paying their respects came in droves. There must have been a hundred and fifty, despite the heavy snow which made driving a real chore. Temperatures remained cold enough to sustain the amount of snow on the ground, and the wind chill had reached minus 15C.

   Tom Shannon was a well-respected man in Hope Valley, and a long-standing business person. He had started the Shannon Lumber Company, and it had grown in leaps and bounds, both in size and profits over the past 30 years. He had supported the family on his income from the lumber yard and the farm, and that life had been a good one. It sent all four kids to college and set up a little nest egg for each of them. Kate was so grief-stricken, she did not want to think of the legal stuff, of the Will and Testament and mounds of paperwork. She sat there valiant, and vying to hold it together. If she could get through the tributes from the speakers, then she would be okay.

 She sat in the front row of the room, seeing his open casket, and a Kleenex was constantly dabbing at her eyes.  Her brothers all sat beside her in the front row, with their wives, and children, and Kate was extremely fragile. Finally, when they all paid homage to the beloved man, Kate read a small Irish blessing and a brief farewell. It was all she could do to keep from falling apart. She was devastated to be losing her dad, her lifelong best friend.

   When the people finished gathering around to pay their respects, she felt her heart take wing like a hummingbird when Grant Michaels approached, looking handsome as ever in a black suit and grey tie and a dashing black overcoat. It was like he stepped off the cover of GQ, and her heart was having weird palpitations when he squeezed her hand. The warmth of his touch sent an electric shock traveling from her fingers to her wrist, then up her arm like a current of magnificent voltage.

  “Kate, please accept my sincere condolences.” His blue eyes were tender and charismatic, sending her pulse into overload.

   “Thank you, Grant.” She felt foolish for crying like a baby earlier, and she dabbed at her eyes.

“We’re all heading to Dad’s place across town for a reception. Miranda’s made some food and refreshments.”

  “I’d like that, thanks.”

“Yeah?” Kate was shocked that he wanted to join them.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. See you there.”

“Do you need directions?”

“No, I’ll just follow the long string of cars up Main Street.” He winked at her naivety.

Kate smiled. “Sorry. I’ve been in a daze all week. I sure hope this year ends on a good note.”

“Stay positive.” Grant smiled. “I’ll see you at the farm.”

Miranda was soon at her side, waving to Grant as he left the funeral home.

“Ready to go, Kitten?”

“Yep. Saddle the horses.”

Miranda raised a brow quizzically. “You feeling okay? I doubt they’d make it through six feet of heavy snow.”

“Nah, you’re right. We’d better take the car.”

Miranda linked her arm in Kate’s. “Let’s go sidekick.”

 At the Shannon farm, Ronnie had the old stone fireplace roaring and hurricane lamps with festive red candles on the mantle and the main table in the den. The theme of candlelight had been stressed by Miranda, because she wanted to fully pay tribute to Uncle Tom, who loved Scotch and stories from the homeland by candlelight.

   Miranda had set up all the food and the catering dishes hours before. She had her professional chafing dishes warming the hot appetizers.  The rest of the buffet was mostly finger foods on trays, like fruit and veggie plates, and dips with assorted crackers, cheeses and meats for the non-vegetarians, and other hor’ deuvres. Miranda sure knew how to pull out the stops for a gourmet catering presentation. She’d been working in the industry since she was sixteen, and it showed. Elegant gold and red napkins with matching paper plates were on the tables with the cutlery, and on another table, two kinds of punch in elegant glass punch bowls. One was a green punch, the other a cranberry- spiced punch. Miranda always pleased the crowd, with ample beverages and food. She had still another table dedicated to all her home baking, which everyone raved about.

   Wearing her special green Christmas apron and red Santa hat, she let the crowd know it was safe to “dig in.” She even rang her little gold bell, which got everyone laughing.

  “Ice breaker,” she said with a nod, winking at Kate who sat on a chair near the Christmas tree, admiring the lights in blue, orange, green and red.

“Thanks, Panda, for keeping the festive spirit alive in dad’s house. He would have been proud.”

“He is proud, Kitten, he is.”  She hurried off to the kitchen, wearing red oven mitts, to get another tray of food from the oven.

“Do you need any help?” Kate poked her nose in the kitchen door.

“No, I’m fine sweetie. Everything was prepped hours ago. But thanks for the offer.”

“Alright.”

From the front hall, Kate heard someone say “Hiya Grant,” and she grabbed her plastic cup with the punch, and hurried to the den for a refill. She didn’t want to look too anxious, but she needed to somehow be in the vicinity of him, to strike up conversation.

  “Here,” Miranda whispered, pulling out a small flask of whiskey. She spiked the cup with the spirits, and Kate hissed at her. “What are you trying to do? Make me spill all my secrets to him? Bad girl!” She slapped her hand playfully, and Miranda wrinkled her nose and ran over to greet the handsome visitor.

   While Miranda took his coat and put it in the spare room with the other coats, Kate watched him from the den, savouring the punch and the sudden strong taste, courtesy of her cousin. Chuckling, she raised a secret toast to her Dad. “To us, Daddy…”  She could feel the emotion choking her, and she vied to remain calm, because Grant was coming across the room to see her. The creaky floor boards in the 1838 century home made him smile as he approached her. The Burl Ives Christmas LP was playing on the antique stereo, the one that dad loved the best this time of year. People were mingling, sampling the fine scotch and the two kinds of punch, and the Shannon kids were in the living room talking and eating Miranda’s Christmas treats, trying to stay out of their parents’ hair.

  “Nice turnout,” Grant said with a sexy smile.

“Yes, it is.” Kate sipped her drink, feeling nervous that he was so close and she was so vulnerable.

The tree was alit and sparkly, and the angel at the top was a gold-ivory, with hands praying. That angel had been in the family for some twenty years, and Miranda did not want to throw it out. She thought it would be bad karma, considering Tom’s spirit was here tonight, and so they should honour him in every way possible.

   “I’m very sorry for your loss, Kate. It’s a terrible thing to go through at Christmas, or any time for that matter.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that, Grant.”

He cast a knowing look at her cup, wondering how she remained somewhat calmer now than she had at the funeral home.

“Is that the red punch that everyone is raving about?”

“Yep,” Kate smiled. “With a little help from Miranda.”

“Oh, dear God….if I know what that means, I’d guess she spiked it with the good stuff.”

“Care for some punch?”

“I’m driving, so I should behave.”

“One little cup should be okay?”

“Alright, you twisted my arm.” 

Grabbing the flask hidden in the cabinet, she put an ounce of whiskey in his cup. Kate noted how incredibly handsome he looked tonight, and it made the womanly desires in her somehow come to life once more. Since Jimmy had left, she hadn’t felt any attraction for another man, and she cursed their existence on this planet, because she’d been so wretchedly hurt from the aftermath.

 What the hell was happening to her now? Grant Michaels came on the scene, carrying a huge parcel, and suddenly that cancelled out the asshole factor of these hated males?

  She stifled a laugh, enjoying the punch, and holding the image of “big parcel” in her head.

“Now, what’s so funny? You can’t hold out on me tonight.”

Kate leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and he grinned, turning red. “That demon liquor is turning you into a wild woman.”

  They shared a laugh, and he squeezed her shoulder gently, letting her know she was not alone in her grief.

 “It’s going to be rough for a while, but I’m here if you need me,” Grant offered.

Finishing her drink, Kate grabbed the ladle for the green punch, getting her cup ready for a refill.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” His keen blue eyes were set on hers, and she looked incredibly beautiful in that black silk dress above the knee, with her shapely legs and black heels. It had been a while since Grant had even considered dating, but here tonight in the camaraderie and poignant setting, with the lights down low and the food and drink aplenty, he felt that old stirring in his heart again. Was he out of his mind to feel this way for Kate? Well, why not? She was a damn fine looking woman, and sexy as hell, and vulnerable to boot. Did that make him a predator then? Preying on the broken hearted woman whose father had just died?

  Logic swirled in his head, along with various other emotions, and even still, the primal masculine need in him that was rearing its head.

  For now, he would behave himself and enjoy the company of a beautiful woman, extending his condolences in her time of need. If it was friendship Kate was after, he would be satisfied with that.

  From her stance in the living room, where she mingled with guests, Miranda studied the two of them conversing in the corner by themselves. It warmed her heart no end, to see Grant and Kate falling into her well-devised trap to get them together. She’d had her eye on this partnership since Grant was first given the Fed Ex route in Hope Valley for the holidays. Big parcels, indeed... Miranda chuckled at the irony of Grant’s job description and the way in which he’d collided with her cousin at the bakery. The playful, persistent matchmaker in her just glowed with anticipation for those two lonely souls. It was just like doctor’s orders, she pondered, taking a sip of her famous spiced cider. Everything was falling into place, just as she’d planned, and she wondered if dear Uncle Tom had anything to do with it.

   On the stereo, a new record was playing, Christmas In My Heart, Connie Francis. Kate was overcome by emotion at the nostalgia in one of Dad’s favourite records; Connie was his teen queen of the ‘50s and she’d caught the love of her music too, at an early age. Her eyes grew misty, knowing Ronnie must have put it on to commemorate Dad.

  “There you are, sis.” Ronnie had a full punch glass and hugged her warmly, near the tree.

“Ronnie, this is Grant Michaels, our regional manager for Fed Ex.”

Ron lifted a brow in amusement. “Our regional manager?” He shook his hand. “I trust you will get all my Christmas parcels delivered on time, then?” He nudged Grant playfully, letting out a boisterous laugh.

  Grant shot Kate a look that said you know this guy?

“Just teasing,” Ronnie said. “Hey Kate, did you want to make a toast to dad?”

He clearly looked half in the bag, because his face was flushed and he was far happier and outspoken than he normally was.

“Sure,” Kate said firmly, embarrassed that he was drunk.

“Alrighty. Give it a refill, please.” Ron aimed his empty cup near Kate, who poured some in. “Attention, everybody. We’d like to give a toast to our dearly departed father, Tom Shannon. We salute his wonderful memory, and thank  all for coming to join us this evening.”

 Ron clinked cups with Kate and Grant, then they all drank their fill.

“Good to meet you, Grant.” He nodded, walking back into the crowd.

Turning red, Kate apologized.  “Sorry about that. He gets like that when he’s had a few too many.”

“Don’t mention it, I understand.”  Grant was pensive, studying her pretty face and the sadness she was hiding. “I bet he expresses his grief differently.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” Kate marvelled at how observant Grant was. He was not only handsome, but charming and insightful too. Soon, her defenses against men were wearing thin, and the drinks were to blame. She felt a foolish, giddy school girl coming out of her. Kate smiled over the privilege of having him here tonight. It was a blessing, and she watched the crowd from her place in the den.

  People went outside to have a cigarette and some had cigars, which was a tradition in the Shannon family during births and deaths, and the children were still roaming around, chatting and playing. For a long time, it seemed it was just Grant and Kate there together by the tree, in that dim, romantic light, with Connie Francis singing White Christmas, lending the retro holiday mood to the coziness of that century home.

   Together, they sat on the antique velvet chairs by the tree, sharing a drink and some stories of Christmas past. Grant was trying to keep her mind off sadness for tonight, and he was doing a great job, she noted. So far, she had only cried once, and when he refilled her drink a couple times, she felt warm, happy and content to have the company of a dashing man like Grant.

  “You know, Kate, it’s okay to feel sad, if all you want to do is cry. I lost my best friend, Mike, in a snowmobiling accident a few years ago, and trust me, all I did was cry, drink and sleep.”

  Touched by his story, Kate placed her hand on his. “Thank you for sharing that story with me.”

He nodded, eyes lit up, admiring her so pretty beside him. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but it just wouldn’t be right, considering the context of the moment, with her father’s funeral and all.

 “You look beautiful tonight.” He blurted it out. No shame.

“Thanks.” She squeezed his hand, and marvelled at how warm and strong it was. A thrill passed through them both, an ethereal calm, like a divine peace from the heavens.

  In the glow of that tree, with  its multi-coloured strands of lights, Grant threw caution to the wind, claiming her lips with his. He decided there was nothing else she needed more in this fragile moment than his kiss.

  And she responded, with warm, tender lips, tasting so sweet from that red Christmas punch. It lingered on both of their lips for a while. They smiled at one another, blissful and content, and wishing this night would never end.

 Somewhere from his perch in the heavens, Tom Shannon was smiling his approval. And the whole world seemed at peace, for just a moment.

LETTING LOVE IN~ allowing the flow of all that is good

Some people have a hard time opening up to new experiences in life, whether it's a job, place to live, social scene, or just someone that comes alone as a potential mate. We get comfortable in our rut of normalcy and convention, that we do not see that which is truly around the corner for us to take hold of, and try it on for size.

I'd like to group these people as non-risk takers, and the others (myself included) are the proverbial "gamblers" - always on the verge of a new adventure, always embracing change. My mantra is, whatever is constantly changing is also changing YOU as a person. Without the evolution of self, one cannot GROW as a person, nor can we reach our ultimate peak on our destiny path.

Now, I'll admit, as a Taurus, I'm generally a stick in the mud and in the past, it was in my nature to resist change. In recent years, however, that is not the case. I have learned that change is good, and, without any say of mine, the universe just seems to naturally "bump" me forward to new experiences. It's sort of like an imaginary hour glass, with the sand running out, and somehow signalling to me "time's up. New adventure starting NOW."

Love is another of those grand ideals that is a constantly moving/evolving thing in life. It's something that is truly a staple in my own reality, whether it be the pages of a brand new novel I am penning ("HEARTBEAT") or the arrival of a certain mysterious stranger on my doorstep. Aka: recently, tall hunky satellite guy to install wifi internet. You get the picture, right?

We, as humans, must embrace change, as it is necessary for our growth and stimulation. Too much change can be chaotic and unhealthy, setting our world into a tsunami of mixed emotions. I have seen people with far too much change happening all at once, and they are, essentially, a mess. This change is far too stressful, as it causes health problems and mental instability, so it's important to slow down, take a breath, assess your environment, and allow yourself quality time to be alone and sort these issues out. Remember, it's not "selfish" to give ourselves the one-on-one quality time needed to repair what has been lost or broken.

Letting love in~allowing the flow of all that is good~ is something I highly recommend. Love comes in many forms, and its thrill and healing qualities span so many levels, it's hard to define in this one small space exactly what "love" can be. To sum it up in my experience, love can be all that is working for our greater good, teaching us to embrace our life destiny, steering us on the right course, giving us gifts along this journey, bringing spirit guides and special souls who touch us deeply in an indescribable way.

I'm so infinitely grateful for those people who are traveling along this path with me; their light is a beacon of hope for me and countless others. They prove to me that even through despair, heartbreak, and shattered dreams, we have something profound and inspiring to look forward to in the shining days of glory to come. We must let go of those who leave our lives, to be able to unwrap the "gift" of the present...the new souls who are here to help us bask in that radiant light.

Those beautiful people who touch my heart, I know you realize who you are. Be it the muse of my current novel or the last one; the friend who messages daily on facebook to just stay connected with me in the midst of their busy day; the other who is out of touch at the moment, but who knows, regardless, we are connected from past lives, holding onto one another without saying a word, hearts tied together through freedom and a special love, without chains.( This one, I'll admit is my favourite of recent days) I want you to know how treasured you are; thank you for the gift of our hearts speaking to one another. My breath was taken away from our first meeting, and I have not been the same since. P.S. the flowers still have their bloom.

Allowing the flow of all that is good...I embrace my own light and also help others along their path. It becomes so contagious, that nothing but progress and amazing things can happen from this point on.

I urge all of us to try letting love in. All forms of it. This is the pulse of humanity, the heartbeat of our souls...in order to fully flourish properly. Without love, there is no real sense of understanding ourselves or the world around us. For this, we must be aware at all times, awakened by its power and the healing process within that our hearts need in order to get to the next dimension.

Leaving you now with this beautiful Oleta Adams tune, a love song of true awakening. It speaks to my heart, and she is a lovely Taurus woman like someone else I know ;)  Peace and light, RR. <3 March 7/14

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7mPkSNIJN3I