Inside out

 

The longer I live the more I learn about me and the things that add interest to my life, because without interest who wants to live? 

When I was a very small child my mother filled my head with stories to explain the things she was not ready to share with a three year old like where did those kittens come from? The memories of that still make me happy. I see a huge field filled with plants that have big leaves on them and hanging on those plants are kittens of every color just waiting to be picked! 

When my children were still very very young I remember playing the Grand Canyon Suite for them as I narrated our story and we acted it out. We rode our mules down trails past cactus and sunrises, sometimes fast and sometimes slow and rocky. I think it is a gift mothers can give their children -- painting pictures in their mind.

I am the product of my upbringing, but that doesn't mean I stopped growing as an adult.  As long as I draw breath I want my mind to feed me. Very few people who know me seem to understand that, but my Muse does. 

Most people think they know what I like and want and think, but they are usually projecting their ideas onto me. My Muse is like a mirror that reflects back at me those things no one else sees. It is a rare gift to have a Muse who shows me myself from inside my heart out and does it with such generosity and kindness.