Running scared

Standard

I’m an author and I’m scared of technology. There, I’ve said it. I’m scared to switch over to my new laptop because I know the old one so well…and I’m scared I will mess up the change over! I back up onto a separate hard drive once a week yet every time, I’m scared I’ll delete everything.

As I’m  confessing, I only learned there was a selfie button on my camera last week…only ever took photos like this before…DSC_0224

I remember watching my children in awe as they accessed their computers with ease and confidence. I knew I would never be like them.

I’ve learned the basics and acquired a few new skills along the way but I’m a writer, a dancer, a healer and a goddess, bound to the earth and the living beings upon it. I’ve had to include technology in my life to share my stories and now, I’m faced with formatting them myself…and I’m scared.

Wendy Woo faces her fears, accepts challenges as gifts to learn about herself and believes every day is an adventure yet this obstacle leaves her wobbly and nauseous. Follow this blog to see how she copes over the next few weeks.

 

 

 

Night at the museum

Standard

A news headline caught my eye yesterday. This image leapt straight into my mind…

News Flash
“It came off in me ‘and, guv.”
They looked at the artefact grasped in Brian’s pudgie fingers.
The foreman’s face travelled through pink and red to magenta.
“I’ll fix it, no worries. Me mam says I is good at fixing.”

Arnie and Pete restrained the foreman by the arms while Ian and Baz dug deep into their pockets.
They all chewed. And chewed.
The night foreman, after forty years of service to night security at the museum, was looking forward to a golden hand shake and a peaceful retirement. There was only fifteen minutes before the day staff arrived. His dentures chewed as well.

Mission accomplished, Arnie and Pete, helped the weeping foreman towards the door while Ian and Baz steered Brian towards the exit.
“I fink the king would be amused.”
“Yes, Brian.”
“Wiv a name like ‘Toot an’ come in’, I reckon ‘e would be right up for a bubble gum beard.”

Welcome New Moon

Standard

Catching up with friends and family in Essex after Christmas was lovely but saying goodbye to my children is never easy, especially as I had no routine to return to.

With firewood stacked in the lounge, my partner set off for a job in Oxford and left me home alone.

I’ve always found the final week of the waning moon a challenge. Though my mind is keen to ‘tie up loose ends’, complete started projects and have something to show for my endeavours, I’ve found it difficult to apply myself.

Edits are going well on the third Standing Stone book, The Gathering and I finished one short story which you can read here http://wendysteele.com/2016/01/06/short-story-scratching-the-surface/ and wrote, edited and polished two more which I’ve submitted for magazines but my energy levels were low and I could feel the tears close to the surface.

And then Tribal Unity Wales came to my rescue! A suggestion of an evening get together gave me something to look forward to and catching up was just what I needed. Inspired by my ladies, I set myself the challenge of completing the lime mortaring/rebuilding of the wall up the stairs.

The tiny window was a later, hasty addition and needed my attention. I mixed one bucket at a time (3:1 sand and lime), pretending to be a cement mixer for ten minutes until the consistency was right. The old earth mortar needs to be scraped out and loose stones removed ready to be reset. All the resident earth mortar needs to be wetted to give something for the new mortar to adhere to. DSC_0195DSC_0197After half an hour, I use a damp paintbrush to remove excess mortar and to give a slightly smoother finish. DSC_0198This side needed a lot more rebuilding, finding suitable stones to fill the gaps rather than just mortar. DSC_0199Two hours on Friday and four on Saturday got me this far…and then I fell off the planet.

I was so pleased with my achievements but with rain pounding the windows, seeping up through the hall floor and leaking through the roof, I despaired that my efforts were worthless and my plans to commune with the new moon seemed hopeless…so I lit candles around the lounge and danced.  I danced hard. Breathless and exhausted I sat in the middle of my circle with Rosie Rabbit and the goddess Isis spoke to me. I scribbled on my pad, tearful but excited and once I was calmer, I turned to my Tarot cards and the future looked brighter. DSC_0160

Taking small steps works for me. Yesterday I set myself lots of small challenges and completed them all, starting this new moon phase with a clean tidy room, notes and plans for the new term of dance and lots of story ideas.

Everyone is different but if you are looking for ways to live with depression or you want to bring happiness to your life every day, my non-fiction book may help. Love, light and new moon blessings xx

http://www.amazon.com/Wendy-Woos-Year-Pocketful-ebook/dp/B00AAVPXVU/ref=la_B007VZ1P06_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1354202723&sr=1-5http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wendy-Woos-Year-Pocketful-ebook/dp/B00AAVPXVU/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1354202865&sr=1-3

Short story: Scratching the surface

Standard

As soon as I saw the theme for this submission, the idea for a story came to me. I didn’t manage to finish it by the deadline but here it is for you to read and enjoy.

Scratching the surface

John2 and Matthew9 checked the control panels, acknowledging their accord with a time honoured thumbs up. John2 pressed the ascent button and the small metal craft rose slowly through the cold, dark water. Matthew9 turned on the forward lights, illuminating the ring of identical craft, rising towards the surface.

Inside his glass helmet, John2 sweated, his greying dreadlocks prickling his neck. A few months left, that was all he had, until one final year on supervisory, equipment check and personnel before returning to his family. He chuckled at Matthew9’s eager face, pressed to his helmet, watching the light beams of forty nine mining craft. And they weren’t the only team. Three identical details rose with them at five mile intervals and each drill point had three craft, rising and falling, never stopping like determined spiders on a home spun thread.

Matthew9 pointed as he switched on the top beam of the craft, locating the tunnelling entrance, twenty metres above them. John2 flicked to manual control and edged their nose into the gaping mouth. The path of the ice tunnel zigzagged, forward fifty metres then vertical for fifty, until they reached the orange marker buoy. John2 plunged the drill into the ice. Green lights rose on the dashboard and he applied power to the thrusters and the drill bit began its work. The time clock was started and John2 sat back in his worn, patched chair, feeling the rhythm of the engine through his body.

Rock chunks in the ice were their enemy. At best, they could return to base with a damaged drill bit, while worst scenarios involving the drill being ripped away, allowing the weight and pressure of the ocean to consume them, were the real worry. In the thirty years since Galaxy Sea Base began operating, almost a thousand personnel had lost their lives to the water. Safety had improved. Sea Base Metals Inc were synthesising knew craft with stronger hulls and more durable bits but still people died. The world may have had one hundred years to build a world beneath the ocean but in John2’s opinion, they hadn’t thought about the little things. Even with freezing temperatures, sending the world into chaos, he remembered the history he had learned at school, of the millions of ordinary people who were commanded to sacrifice themselves by so few.

But John2 knew his job. This was his second ten year work placement on the drills and, with any luck, his last. Blinking sweat from his pale blue eyes, he remembered Sarah’s words as she held him, almost nine years ago.
“You’re nearly there, John. Galaxy played a statement over the base. One more year, that’s all so you make damn sure to keep your eyes open. They’re sending unmanned craft to break the surface.”
She’d been so sure, his Sarah. Images of his wife, nursing their children and lying naked beside him in bed brought a familiar lump to his throat. Weekly five minute links were no time to tell her how he felt about her, no time to extract from the emotional chaos in his head, the appropriate words of solace for Sarah. For seven years he’d been with her, first bringing his son into a synthetically aired underwater world and two years later, his twin daughters. And then his work was called in a second time. Sarah’s tears wetted his cheeks every night. Sarah was right. This was the final detail.

Two circuits of the time clock completed, they plugged into the feeding station, switching on their comms as they relaxed.
“So you volunteered for this caper?”
“’Course man!” Matthew9 laughed, his big black face crinkling with delight. “I knows the score, man. My brother on the inside, he tells me ‘Get your ass on a drilling detail and start life on land with a million!’ We’re nearly there! I’m gonna be rich!”
John2 smiled and nodded. Twenty nine years of being told they were nearly there made him do that. The company were always promising a million to the craft that cleared the final stretch to the surface.
A tremor ran through his seat. Focussed on his dashboard, he checked the instruments for discrepancies in the settings. Thrusters were on full but forward motion had stopped. Heat sensors on the bit were high but not critical. Was it rock or something else stopping them proceeding?
“We got problems?”
“Not sure.”
“We drilling rock?”
“Could be but there’s no debris being thrown back. Look.”
Matthew9 turned the craft’s side lights up, illuminating the trail of slush sluicing past their rear.
“If there was rock in it, you’d hear it and feel it as it went by, don’t worry.”
“I’m cool if you are, man.”
John2 smiled. “I’m cool.”

The third circuit of the time clock was almost complete and the bit had sped up as it carved its way through the dark matter. Ice continued to flush past the craft and yet John2 knew with a certainty that alarmed him that he was no longer drilling through frozen water.
The pointer on the time clock showed one more circuit before descent and John2 was glad. His gauges showed him the temperature outside the craft was getting colder, even though the drill bit was heating up. Taking the bit speed down a few notches sent the craft juddering so he gave up on that idea to cool the bit and resigned himself to studying his dashboard.
Twice Matthew9 boosted power to the lighting but a dark, eerie gloom fell on the cabin. John2 typed into the crafts log his actions in the second circuit and the readings from his dashboard until the vessel began to shake and he turned back to his dials. Before his gloved hand reached a single switch, the drill stopped and the lights went out. Through the hatches they saw nothing in the inky blackness.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, Matt. We’ve no thrusters, yet we’re maintaining position. Try the comms to MC14.”
“No response. I’ll try a general.”
John2 unbuckled himself from his seat, feeling his way to the back of the craft. From a metal cupboard at head height he brought out two torches.
“They’re not responding, John. What the fuck’s going on?”
John2 switched on one of the torches, clipping it to the control panel, illuminating the water around the drill but he couldn’t see if the bit was embedded in the ice or they were floating free.
He turned to Matthew9 and spoke, ignoring the tears streaming down the big man’s face. “I’m going to check the boards, find out if there’s a loose connection to our thrusters but I need you to get on the emergency band and contact base.”
Matthew9 tried to nod but crumpled in his seat.
“I need you, Matt, do you hear me? I need you to contact base. You can do it. Assemble our co-ordinates and set it on repeat, okay?”

John2 grabbed the other torch and stumbled out of the cabin into the power room. He strapped the torch to a hand rail before working through the circuit boards systematically.
Nineteen years, scratching the surface. As his work brain checked for faults, he allowed his mind to wander and he knew. With the birth of hope came a future and that was what Galaxy Sea Base fed the populace. Hope for a future on land, beneath a warm benevolent sun. If one had hope, giving up ten years of your life for the future of mankind was a much easier task to adhere to. John2 sighed as he prised off another panel, inspecting the tubes and wires beneath the light from the torch. He remembered life upon the earth and the climate was untrustworthy. He had always kept to himself his biggest fear, that they would break through the surface to find an ecological disaster and a planet that no human being could live on. No one else need bear the weight of his personal horror.
He continued checking the panels as he thought back to the years before the freeze and how he, sixteen years old, bright, fit and naïve had been granted a place on the base, without his parents. It had been a lottery, of course, and though his parents had not been eligible for entry, they had insisted he take part. As he’d boarded the coach to the port, the news reported increased meteor strikes, unprecedented volcanic activity and rain pounded the windows so the last time he saw his parents, they were a murky blur through the glass. None of the panels showed any fault so he hauled himself back into the cabin.
“I sent our co-ordinates, John. Do you think they’ll find us?”
“Maybe but the next crew will be along to take our place, won’t they? If nothing else, we can attach a tow and they can get us back before they start their shift.”
Matthew9 nodded. His eyes were red and his broad bottom lip trembled but he tried a smile. “So, what we gonna do now?”
“I think we should try and find out what stopped the drill. We’ve enough juice to operate the grabber on manual.”

Matthew9 shone the torch towards the bit as the arm unfolded itself from the mining craft and stretched towards the nose. Once at full extension, John2 closed the grip and brought the hand round to the dumping hatch above them. With the torch clipped back on the dashboard, Matthew9 opened the hatch with the manual wheel and John2 released the grip as Matthew9 turned the wheel the other way.
“You reckon we got it?” Sweat dripped into Matthew9’s eyes as he turned the final rotations.
John2 checked the dashboard. “Dumping hatch box is still showing below freezing. We could be in luck.”
Half the final time circuit had been completed by the time the box was moved from the dumping hatch to the analysis compartment and as the computer tested their haul, John2 and Matthew9 examined the contents on magnified visual on the main screen.
“There’s rock.”
“Very little more than usual. No, I’m interested in the ice. There’s great chunks, look, with rock fragments still attached.”
“What does it mean, John? Are we near the surface?”
John2 stared at the printout, spewed from the computer.
“John?”
John2 laughed and then shook his head at the bewildered boy, wide eyed with fear in front of him. “It’s okay, Matt. I know what this is.”
“You do?”
“You know any earth geology?”
Matthew9 shook his head.
“Do you know what diamonds are?”
“No, man. What you on about?”
But the laughter had John2 in its grasp and great belly laughs escaped from him as he hugged his sides. He was rich! They were rich! If they weren’t floating powerless beneath miles of ice, he’d be a happy man.
John2 wiped his eyes and grinned. “Diamonds are rare minerals, found deep in the earth. They’re not created from coal, as you might imagine.”
“What’s coal?”
“Never mind but know that on earth diamonds were rare, valuable, often made into jewellery or used to decorate a royal crown and we’ve hit an enormous one, somehow, below the sea.”
“You mean, we’re rich?”
“It wouldn’t be us, Matt. It would be the company but what use are diamonds to us, in a world below the sea?”
“They’d be rarer still? Worth more?”
“Not if every craft on our detail has hit diamond. Don’t you see? This must be the biggest diamond ever dreamed of but with the market forces of demand and supply, assuming this diamond could be mined, its worth nothing.”
“Hard enough to stop our drill and worthless?”
“Its discovery will undoubtedly be useful to someone, but it will hold up progress to the surface.”

As the final quarter of the time circuit ticked by John2 updated his report, entering the findings of diamond in the ice. He glanced at the air reserve gauge before focusing his torch beam towards the nose. They were drifting, away from the ice, away from the tunnel entrance and without power, there was nothing he could do about it. Away from their rise point, it was unlikely another craft could locate them.

John2 sat shivering, Matthew9’s sobs echoing in his helmet. Like so many before him, John2 had given so much of his life to the company but while they drifted in darkness below the ice, he wondered at his own naivety. Diamond would be discovered in the water, probably from a zenolith, brought up from the earth’s mantel by a volcanic explosion but he doubted the benefits of such a find would reach the ordinary people on Galaxy Sea Base.
They breathed the last of the air in the craft. Matthew9 was unconscious and John2’s eyes began to close. His final thoughts were of his wife and children and a massive drill bit made of diamond, breaking through the ice into a world of sunshine, trees and new wonders. He smiled his knowing grin as, doubtless, this world too would be organised by those with money and power, to the detriment of the masses.

 

Winter wonderland

Standard

There was no snow for us this Christmas but the wonders of our universe were brilliant for all to see.

On Christmas Eve, between the downpours, we walked down to our riverbank as the sun set and the moon began to rise. DSC_0166

A cool breeze rose from the water as I lit the fire and invited those on the riverbank to join our celebration. I danced for my family, I danced for my friends, I danced for the goddess and the fae. As the fire dwindled in the basket, the full moon rose between the trees. DSC_0168DSC_0170DSC_0171

Bathed in moonlight, I breathed in the beauty of the full moon. Rosie Rabbit, in her new pixie coat, joined me in conversation with the goddess of the moon. DSC_0172

On Christmas Day, at Ynyslas beach, we arrived in rain but the clouds drifted away. DSC_0177We walked across the mud and sand, around the sand dunes and the force of the wind hit us, almost knocking me off my feet. The exceptionally low tide uncovered parts of the ancient forest, preserved beneath the sea and I tiptoed around them on my way to the water’s edge. I partook of the customary Christmas Day paddle! 894647_1683358131922676_7168951730327024466_o

We caught up with friends and family in Essex and Lincolnshire on the days after Boxing Day…and the sun came out! DSC_0189DSC_0191Arriving home late on 30th December, we found my car beautifully decorated by the frost. DSC_0193The sky was clear and we were welcomed home by an abundance of stars.

Though I’ve appreciated nature’s wonders this Christmas, my heart goes out to those in Cumbria, York and other areas of the country that have flooded. It’s time to put those Ps in order………..put People and the Planet before Profit and Protect this beautiful world on which we live.

Welcoming the light

Standard

After eight weeks of rain in Wales and the end of term approaching, I set myself a challenge….to brighten up our fireplace for the winter solstice and welcome in the light.

Work on our house this year has focussed on practical rather than cosmetic. With the thatch on, work turned to mending the chimneys and building up the clom to try to make our home weatherproof. We had almost repointed the end wall of the house before the rain started.11150930_1600818576843299_7145038719453612890_nWhile my partner worked upstairs, boarding and insulating, I worked on the fireplace. DSC_0128First all the old mortar had to be scraped out and the mantel shelf and beam rubbed down. DSC_0129With my first bucket of lime mortar, I repaired the fireplace, rebuilding where necessary. DSC_0130

Part of the left hand wall had been mortared so I finished it DSC_0132

While the mantelpiece dried, I moved into the hall, prepped and repaired a small length of stonework. DSC_0133I limewashed around the lounge window…I had repaired it last year but never got any further. DSC_0135….and used three buckets of mortar to continue repairing up the stairs. DSC_0136 

Lime mortar in quantity is best made in an adapted cement mixer but for small amounts we make by hand and it’s hard work imitating a mixer! In two days, the fireplace was transforming and the lounge and hallway too but on Saturday morning, my partner added his expertise to the project, filling in the holes in the wood and glossing.DSC_0138Between adding thin coats of lime wash around the window, I attacked the other wall in the hall. DSC_0140Mike rubbed down the window and glossed it, as well as the kitchen door frame and a second coat on the beams. DSC_0142

More whitewash was applied around the fireplace. DSC_0143By the end of Sunday, the hall was repaired DSC_0145and the window and fireplace repaired and whitened. DSC_0144

It isn’t easy living in a house while working on it. For five days, washing hung cold and damp in the bathroom and fitting in meals required planning. My hands are bruised and sore and each night my shoulders and back ached from the physical effort but if you want something done, challenge yourself.

On the morning of the 21st December, we cleared the mess from the lounge and began to transform the space. My broomstick finally has a home. DSC_0148With the greenery we cut from the riverbank and white fairy lights, we watched the room change as the light faded. Jibby loved the new look fireplace and the window looked stunning DSC_0149DSC_0147

We lit lanterns and placed one in each window, calling into the darkness and welcoming in the light. Whatever you celebrate at this time of year, I wish you bright winter solstice blessings and may you be warm, loved and peaceful in the coming months to spring.

DSC_0156

Stepping off the Christmas band wagon

Standard

When my children were small, I remember their faces aglow with delight and wonder at a  glimpse of fairy lights, candles and holly. Family traditions warmed us as the Wheel turned from autumn to winter. Then the Christmas band wagon came to town. Shops shone with plastic sentiment from November and the media enforced the message that Christmas was a season to get what you want.

We continued putting out a tray for Santa and his reindeer, not starting our Christmas until we had sung carols in the barn with the animals at the Remus Horse Sanctuary and opening stockings pinned on the fireplace on Christmas Eve never lost its joy but still the Christmas catalogues and bombardment of adverts on TV created an atmosphere of greed and desire. Pressed to conform, I queued for vegetables before the shop opened one year on Christmas Eve and was appalled by the pushing and shoving and anger evoked by a dwindling supply of sprouts. Never again.

100_1464

The last two weekends, I’ve taken my books and pixie coats to Christmas Fayres. Within this atmosphere of crafters and caring folk, I’ve reached a decision. I’m stepping off the Christmas band wagon this year.

I would love you to buy my magical books, inspiring yourself and others to see the magic in this world and the gifts you have within. I would love you to buy a pixie coat to snuggle up in when the weather turns wintery but I will not be pestering you to do so.

12308114_10153316010664352_3619750840121494065_oDSC_0096

DSC_0081

On my Facebook pages and on Twitter, I shall pin a post/tweet showing you where you can find all my books and through this blog or my personal Facebook page, you can contact me about pixie coats.

I shall continue to blog but will not ‘pimp’ on social media, flooding your feeds with adverts.

I’m looking forward to a Yule and Christmas filled with family, friends and fun, where caring for people in the community and animals who have no voice, is more important than shiny gifts and hope you will support me in the spirit of warm heartedness and love.

 

Happy Saturday!

Standard

12308114_10153316010664352_3619750840121494065_oI faced the fear at stand 35 at the Lampeter Christmas fayre on Saturday, taking up position with the lovely Hayley and her Goblin Circus.

I’m a writer and I love it. It’s a solitary pursuit, extracting the essence of the ideas bombarding my head and creating stories for readers to enjoy. Alone, in silence, the real world falls away and my story world comes to life. Facing my public is a whole different sack of kittens. I had a plan…smile and say ‘hello’ to everyone and sit regularly to stop my knees knocking.

12291990_10153316012159352_5024520775233151895_o

Hayley and Maurice, the griffin, had no problem engaging with the public while I struggled with my shyness. After an hour, I began to relax, embarking on conversations about alternate universes and the power of the standing stones and I sold and signed a few books.

DSC_0081The pixie coats were admired and adored but only one sale made on the day, though I’m hoping for sales in the future. I’ve always had faith in them, having bought my first one seven years ago and that confidence helped me marketing my books.

I’m at the Tregaron Christmas Fayre in the memorial hall on Friday 4th December so, if you’re in the area, do pop along and say ‘hello’ as it’s also my birthday.

On Monday, 7th December, I shall begin selling pixie coats online for Christmas. The photo is a selection of the short length coats but they come full length too. Find me on Facebook and I’ll have pictures available in the sizes you request. https://www.facebook.com/wendy.steele.311

As the weather worsens and the cold sets in, why not snuggle up in your new pixie coat with a magical read? You can find all my books via my author pages.

http://www.amazon.com/Wendy-Steele/e/B007VZ1P06/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wendy-Steele/e/B007VZ1P06/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1365459567&sr=1-2-ent

 

 

Wendy Woo’s Wicked Week

Standard

…and it’s not over yet!

Every other Monday I attend the Cwrtnewydd Scribblers writing group but this week, after a full weekend of chain sawing, chopping and barrowing wood, I needed a day to make my bath bombs. I’ve been making my own since 2009. DSC00684

My house hummed with the fragrance of Magical Bathtime as I hand blended my ingredients and added healing essential oils. Bath bombs are abundant in the shops but I wanted to create some that not only smelled fabulous but did you good too, making skin feel luxurious and soft.

Tuesday is a dancing day, lunchtime and evening so I take writing into town with me and sit in the Mulberry Bush with a mug of green tea between lessons. This week numbers were down in the lunchtime class but they worked so hard! The two hour evening class focussed on dancing in groups and chorus, one hour slow followed by another of fast…even I had heavy legs for the drive home! Love my ladies. I’m a lucky teacher.

Wednesday is a writing day and this week I had four short stories under construction that needed editing but the first thing I noticed when I turned on my laptop was a new review for my novel Destiny of Angels…what a great way to start the day! http://www.amazon.com/review/R2F1U45755VIJ6/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm

I edited two stories and submitted them both to magazines…I’ve had three accepted since I started my plan (see http://wendysteele.com/2015/11/09/sharing-my-story/ ), two for online mags and one for an anthology.

Thursday began with a regular private dance lesson which I love to teach. Dancers seeking private lessons are keen, dedicated and embrace the opportunity to improve…bliss for any teacher. Shopping next, making good use of the petrol it costs me to get to town and I frequent a variety of shops, small and large, spreading my limited pennies as best I can. I add items to my trolley for the local food bank and the animal shelter.

Today is Friday, often a ‘writing day’ but I’ve a host of other things to fit in as tomorrow is the Christmas Fayre at Lampeter University and I’m sharing a stall with Hayley (aka Haloquin/The Ringmaster) and her amazing Goblin Circus. I’ll be signing novels and novellas and selling my pixie coats for the first time. I’ve bought pixie coats fair trade from a friend who lives in India, for seven years and thought I would share them with the lovely folk of Wales.

DSC_0081

I can only fit the short length on my rail but hope they make a colourful spectacle at the fayre and I’ll have a range of the long length with me.

If you’re interested in purchasing any of my books, you can find them all listed here:

http://www.amazon.com/Wendy-Steele/e/B007VZ1P06/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wendy-Steele/e/B007VZ1P06/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1365459567&sr=1-2-ent

For more info on the pixie coats, you can contact me here or PM me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/wendy.steele.311

Full moon blessings and a magical weekend to you all.

 

 

Pebble in a pond

Standard

All people are important. All life is precious.

DSC_1234

As the terrible aftermath of extremist action floods the media, I’m saddened and sickened by what I see. From my perspective, victims of atrocities are innocents caught up in violence caused by others. Though the faces of those hurt, homeless or dying are not known to me, I see human suffering and weep for it.

We are human, we are the human family on this earth and we should love every member of it. More than that, we should love and treasure all life and the wonderful earth on which we live.

Wales to end June 2014 016

In the face of bloodshed on such a massive scale, how can we, human beings who care, make a difference?

Make every day a day to spread love. Buy a Big Issue. Add items to your shopping trolley for a food donation box or an animal rescue centre. Hold the door open for someone in a shop. Support your local high street. Hug freely. Let your friends and family know how much you love and appreciate them. Give of yourself in any way you can, no matter how small, with no thought of reward.

DSC_0031

We cannot end the violence on distant shores but we can live by example.

Be the pebble in your pond and spread kindness wherever you go.