Who says you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear?

More like the Queen of England than the Queen of Heaven, but Google's "images" takes you only so far

I didn’t expect to write this morning, and I still don’t really have anything  in particular to say, but a couple hours ago – around 4:30 am – we were surprised by a call from Jesse, who asked if he and Amber could come over for a tarot reading. Scott’s up at 4 am every morning, and I’m generally up even earlier than that, so he had a pretty good idea that his call would be answered by bright eyes and bushy tails. The BIG surprise was that as I was talking with him, we heard a gentle rapping on the door, and found the two of them outside! So, at 4:30 this morning, while Scott got ready for work, Jess and Amber and I had a wonderful, inspiring, deep conversation. Right now, Amber’s in the Spare Oom catching a few winks, Jess went shopping for breakfast items, and I’m here tossing a quick post into the hopper, hopefully for your enjoyment. Or whatever it is you might glean from these posts! Something, anyway.

Lately I’ve been thinking so much about how I want whatever spiritual gifts I have to be used for the benefit of other people. Personal experiences are great, and I’ve been having them more and more (or actually again, after a longish sabbatical away), but they’re ultimately unfulfilling if they don’t help others, which is why my kids showing up this morning is such a boost. They’re both SO gifted, spiritually and psychically, and it’s a joy to pass books on to them, and thoughts from various authors, and my own life and practice lessons. Best yet, they know they have a safe place to express what’s going on with them, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. That’s helpful no matter who you are, or what you’re into. Someone to listen, truly listen, is a blessing, and is not that easily come by.

Speaking of which, I had a really nourishing exchange with a friend over email the past couple days. It was just a little thing, and neither of us had anything of earth-shattering import to say, but the tenor of our conversation, and the fact that we were on the same wavelength, really did my heart good.

For me, it’s the quality of my interactions, not the quantity, that feeds my spirit. Not everyone is like this, I know. Some people need the bustle of lots of people around them, and that’s okay, too.

This is off-topic, but since we’re not on A Topic anyway, I’ll tell you that the other day – actually, when we were at the beach – I found a gorgeous 100% silk robe at Goodwill, in perfect condition, missing only its sash. It looks like a kimono, all in rich autumn colors, only it’s flowing and loose instead of tight-fitting and restrictive. It makes me feel beautiful when I wear it. At home, in a small box of linens and laces I have stored away, I found a red silk scarf to use as a belt! Because the robe is silk, the fabric care is very specific, so I’m extra careful when I wear it and don’t do mundane tasks such as the dishes and vacuuming. Instead, I sit around sipping tea and admiring myself, a gen-u-ine Chinese princess, and if I absolutely have to get up, will swish around the house on cat’s feet, watching the play of light on the material as I move. I don’t have a lot of things, but I’m trying to make sure that the things I do have mean something to me. Since that’s been my philosophy for awhile, my home is a true sanctuary — for me and my family, but also for anyone else who comes to visit. This makes me happy.

It’s easy for me to get wrapped up in the opinions of people I admire, most of whom are authors delving into subjects that interest me. But the reminder I’ve set for myself, like a little inner alarm to go off whenever I feel myself getting exhausted from effort, is to be myself. Just be who I am, and not who somebody else is. I felt the truth of this yesterday morning as I suddenly stopped in the hallway, full to the brim with gratitude, and felt compelled to sing. As I stood there (in my silk robe, of course), singing words and sounds, or stopping altogether to let my mind float free in meditation – I don’t know how long I was there – the thought came to me that THIS IS ME, and I am the only authentic offering I can give to God (or to anyone!). I can try doing what this person does, or what that person does, in order to tap into the Source, but ultimately, my best tool for being there is myself. Yes, ha ha, I am a tool. :) I think I’ve used that joke before, but it never fails to amuse me. At least now I’m a tool in gorgeous silk wrappings.

With that, I hope you all have a wonderful day! And apologies for this rather lackluster post… I’m still feeling a little drained, but am hoping that will change soon, maybe with the weather. Until then, I really appreciate those of you who still show up here! Loves. xo


Filed under Beloveds, Fambly, Folderol, Tarot, Thrifty

4 responses to “Who says you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear?

  1. gerbmom

    aw – love you, Miss Kelly Belly!

  2. Peter Trainor

    Hi Kelly, I liked the bit about the silk robe. I like to hear people talk about things that they enjoy or get something out of…It’s easy to take so much for granted or just not to recognise the worth and beauty of things. So when someone is enthused about something it sort of wakes me up and I feel a bit more of the passion for life that is available. And of course now I know that you like silk!

    • I like to hear other people talk about their loves and passions too, Peter! Much more than ideas they might have, because to me, loves and passions reveal more of the essence of a person, and less of the ego.

      Oh man, I LOVE silk… I suppose this is true of most people, but I’m very tactile, and silk just feels so amazing. It was kind of funny at the carving convention a couple weekends ago, because I could.not.keep.my.hands off the carvings!! I knew I wasn’t supposed to touch them, but there they were, right in front of me, taunting me. The weird thing is, I feel as if I can’t see things properly if I can’t touch them. Going to an art gallery is torture. sigh. Beautiful torture. :)

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