Speaking of Spirit

  I am delighted today to have as a guest blogger, Michele Sammons . Michele is an inspirational author, spiritual teacher, and highly-attuned guide who works with clients worldwide helping them transform their lives through divine guidance. As an empath and intuitive, Michele’s light-hearted, joyful approach embraces her clients right where they are on their spiritual path and gently guides them to personal clarity and understanding. Michele is passionate about working with Spirit to uplift others while spreading love and joy along the way. Michele's book, " The Little Book of Big Knowing ," was a delight to read. Made up of short yet meaningful meditations, I found that many resonated with what I believe and understand about Spirit, Life, Death and all that exists in between. I highly recommend this book! Without further ado, let us delve into the thoughts that Michele shares so graciously with us today.  You are the Shining Star of Your Own Play   “All the world’s a st

Once again, waves of hate and fear have hit upon the shores of our country. Once again, mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, family and friends are doused with the waters of despair.   We hear people calling from prayer. We hear people calling for justice. Yet, nothing seems to change.  Today, as I listened to our pastor speak of being filled with peace, I wondered just how I, as a woman of pale color, could be filled with peace when my family - blood-related as well as "adopted" - of dark color struggle daily with the knowledge that their children, their spouse, or they themselves may be killed simply for being dark-skinned.   I will be honest.  I am horrified that we as a nation built on "Christian" morals - Thou shalt not kill! - still allow ourselves to find ways to condone the possession of weapons of war.  Let me make this clear - I am not talking about hunting weapons.  Many families still hunt for their food and that should be allowed. I am talking abo

  We are almost mid-April and the sun is warming the earth, springing forth green shoots and bursting with resplendent color. Sitting in the garden the other day, I began to wonder why it was that I longed for the ocean. Perhaps, living three blocks from the beach as a child has something to do with it, or maybe it is that many of the books I enjoy center of being near the sea. No matter the reason, I truly long to walk in the sand, feel the salty breeze kiss my cheeks and dive into the icy cold sea off Maine's coast. The quote above by Sandy Gingras is so true. When I am "at the beach," time has no need for watches. We know the time based on the location of the sun overhead and the distance between the incoming or outgoing tides. We linger, commune, hold rituals and offer words of praise and thanks.  Being at the ocean, for me, is church. I find great healing walking the shore, talking to the Divine. Each time I swim, I am baptized in the knowledge that life can slow do