Three divine smacks to the head

 

In late winter, early 2016, I came out of some dark months and dark moods. Animals in need of a healing boost drew me back to the light. Three in particular. All were in very bad health and their owners were floundering as their animals declined. Spirit opened these owners to allow me to provide complementary care in addition to the veterinary care they had already sought. I was able to help relieve pain and restore enough vitality to make a big difference in the last weeks, days and hours for each animal.

Each animal opened a pathway for me. It became clear that it was time to focus or at least pay daily attention to Healing Touch for Animals [HTA]. Since April I have taken one step, tiny or grand, each day to lift my HTA business. Today, a blog post.

A logo to love

Diane Muse, my down-the-road, round-the curve neighbor designed this logo in 2012. Imagination and artistry. It’s striking, inviting, and mysterious. I love it because it captures relaxing in an abundant garden under celestial influence. I love it because Diane made it- BY HAND- no computer involved- cutting plastic as if she were in the first stage of generating a silk screen. Hence, it might be just a tad off-center. That’s just another point of perfection. It always evokes conversation. It serves on multiple levels for multiple businesses- farm, contemplative retreat, and now Healing Touch for Animals and their People.

Global sky Global healing

I have been away from center, spun out by waves of global violence, overwhelmed by their scale. Despair unbalances me. I go outside. Big sky is the first tiny relief for big hurt. I just stand there. I can begin to reclaim the power of healing.

June's crimson canna

D-Day was a momentous event for our parents, who both served in the US Army during World War II. They worked in military hospitals, first in England and then France. Growing up I heard lots of stories about life in the army. Although I was shielded from horrific details in my childhood, the significance of being a WWII vet was clearly visible, honored, held in high regard. It sticks with me even now and especially now for my brother. God bless the vets.

Sibling heart thuds

On Memorial Day I mundanely wrapped cheese at the food co-op as my brother wrapped his head around a momentous decision. He is taking himself off the Appalachian Trail.  www.walkingoffthewar.org
I let him tell his own story. I listen. I do not need a cell phone tower to hear his pain.

May b:link

Camouflaged hunter
on silent wings, the Barred Owl's
easy to miss.
I got close enough
to politely request
"Please, no cat snacks. Thank you." He blinked
and glided away. We see him around often these days.
The cats are still here too.

  

The lusty month of May

Blossom on the bough

Shagbark's sexual frenzy

Exuberant May