When the well of me is empty, you fill the depths of me to full - overflowing, the sweetest drink I've tasted.
For my grandmother, Nesta.
All along, though, she was still there - day or night, moon or shine, rivers wild or still - there.
When strength feels shallow, I'll swim in surrender ocean blue and it will still be well with my soul.
Do not mask or deny your vulnerability. It is your greatest asset - your strength of strengths.
Built by artist hands, your life, like this chapel, is a testament to all these small steps.
Perhaps, all along, it was more about picking up and scaling the heights [for not even the milky sky is our limit]
May your courage never dim.
"Sometimes, the road you are travelling seems blocked, or it opens up so painfully slowly that you must hold yourself back. Then, when the time is right, the way before you suddenly clears - through no effort of your own. What you have longed for and worked for, I present to you freely."
A short story written in Spain // "In this sea of many, I know you, and you know me."