Do you have a voice that whispers to you sometimes? "Do this", "don't do that", "go ahead and give this new thing a whirl" are often the spoken words I hear in my mind, but never so clearly as I heard them a few weeks ago.
It's been ridiculously hot in Florida lately and I had just returned from my father's doctor appointment.
I. Was. Hot.
The dog needed and wanted to go outside, but having just come in from the hell-on-earth, I wasn't to keen on the idea. As I opened the backdoor, a wall of stifling, hot air, like I imagine a breeze on the surface of the sun would feel, washed over me.
Shelby eagerly stepped out and turned back to look at me as if to say, "aren't you coming?" I had no intention of going out in the yard...until I heard that small, quiet voice in my head urging me to do just that.
"Go look," it urged. "Go and see," the voice kept insisting. I could almost feel a gentle pressure on the center of my back just below my shoulder blades. No one else was home so I was quite aware there wasn't anyone attempting to push me out the door.
Given the insistence and the urgency in the voice, I gave in and stepped out. I wandered over to the south side of our property where there is a long stand of trees and in less than twenty steps, I stood looking down at a small, broken, bird egg.
I bent down and carefully picked up the broken pieces and laid them in my hand. This was what the voice was urging me to go and find though I didn't understand the urgency. Until Shelby arrived a minute later.
She could smell the broken egg and immediately zeroed in on the location of where the egg had been. She began to dig almost before I could register that her nose had shown her what my eyes had seen. If I'd been any slower in finding this small, broken treasure, there would have been nothing but a few tiny shards left after she was done excavating.
Leaving the dog to continue her explorations, I carried my prize inside and sorted it out on the counter. I knew as soon as I'd set eyes on the shell fragments that I'd be drawing and painting it into my journal. A little research lead me to decide it was a Cardinal's egg and since we have a large population, it wasn't to much of a stretch to think that was what type of shell I had found.
After I creating the art in my journal, I pondered what to do with the leftover pieces. I didn't really want to part with them, but nor were they suitable for any type of display. I finally decided I would add them to the actual page of the journal, but I hesitated.
My journal tumbles around in my purse and goes everywhere with me. I didn't feel the shells would have much of a chance of remaining on the page since the journal is only about a third-of-the-way complete.
Instead, I coated a round piece of paper I had previously stamped with matte medium. I carefully placed the shell shards on the paper while the medium was still wet. In some cases, I had to break the shells to get them to lay flat to the paper. Once the first coat was dry, I add a second and set it aside.
Rather than adding the paper, I'm going to wait until I am finished with the journal and will then glue it into a place I've reserved for this small treasure.
And the next time I get a message to do something I don't want to do? I may be a little more receptive to doing what the voice asks me to do!
It's been ridiculously hot in Florida lately and I had just returned from my father's doctor appointment.
I. Was. Hot.
The dog needed and wanted to go outside, but having just come in from the hell-on-earth, I wasn't to keen on the idea. As I opened the backdoor, a wall of stifling, hot air, like I imagine a breeze on the surface of the sun would feel, washed over me.
Shelby eagerly stepped out and turned back to look at me as if to say, "aren't you coming?" I had no intention of going out in the yard...until I heard that small, quiet voice in my head urging me to do just that.
"Go look," it urged. "Go and see," the voice kept insisting. I could almost feel a gentle pressure on the center of my back just below my shoulder blades. No one else was home so I was quite aware there wasn't anyone attempting to push me out the door.
Given the insistence and the urgency in the voice, I gave in and stepped out. I wandered over to the south side of our property where there is a long stand of trees and in less than twenty steps, I stood looking down at a small, broken, bird egg.
I bent down and carefully picked up the broken pieces and laid them in my hand. This was what the voice was urging me to go and find though I didn't understand the urgency. Until Shelby arrived a minute later.
She could smell the broken egg and immediately zeroed in on the location of where the egg had been. She began to dig almost before I could register that her nose had shown her what my eyes had seen. If I'd been any slower in finding this small, broken treasure, there would have been nothing but a few tiny shards left after she was done excavating.
Leaving the dog to continue her explorations, I carried my prize inside and sorted it out on the counter. I knew as soon as I'd set eyes on the shell fragments that I'd be drawing and painting it into my journal. A little research lead me to decide it was a Cardinal's egg and since we have a large population, it wasn't to much of a stretch to think that was what type of shell I had found.
After I creating the art in my journal, I pondered what to do with the leftover pieces. I didn't really want to part with them, but nor were they suitable for any type of display. I finally decided I would add them to the actual page of the journal, but I hesitated.
My journal tumbles around in my purse and goes everywhere with me. I didn't feel the shells would have much of a chance of remaining on the page since the journal is only about a third-of-the-way complete.
Instead, I coated a round piece of paper I had previously stamped with matte medium. I carefully placed the shell shards on the paper while the medium was still wet. In some cases, I had to break the shells to get them to lay flat to the paper. Once the first coat was dry, I add a second and set it aside.
Rather than adding the paper, I'm going to wait until I am finished with the journal and will then glue it into a place I've reserved for this small treasure.
And the next time I get a message to do something I don't want to do? I may be a little more receptive to doing what the voice asks me to do!
