#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Oh, I love this walk, particularly the bright green seaweed that slapped itself against the form and hard surface of this beach stone. It beamed its green light up at me as I passed; it stopped me. Somehow, I needed this almost florescence to bring some energy to my eyes and limbs. It was low tide, as it has been, mornings, and the rocks were wet and drenched in color. I was looking forward to something special today that did not happen. So, I had to rearrange my feelings, like furniture, set up for a party that doesn't happen after all. I must count all the things I'm grateful for, count all the color washed rocks: one of the writers I work with online sends me an article about what grandmothers have to teach the younger generations, what wisdom they have to leave. I read it and then ask her, what has moved her so much, personally, by this article? I suggest she write a letter to herself from a special grandmother to see what her grandmother might say to her. I don't know whether she'll do this or not; I just send out the prompt because my impulse says to do so. And she writes back. She's done it! She's done it and she found - surprise - something really special. This exchange feels like the bright pink/red stone cheering the center of my day. Another way my writing life feeds my spirit every day. Every day. How grateful I am for this.