'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.'
~ Isaiah 30:15 ~
Kind of odd, isn't it. We've got to plug in our screens to give them more juice, recharge the batteries before they fade, and keep those omnipresent electronic lifelines in tip-top running condition.
And yet the exact opposite is true for us as human beings.
We've got to unplug from those very same screens to breathe deep in solitude. To recharge our waning energy, to revive the depths of who we are at the soul level, and invite the creative juices to flow with more oomph.
Especially us introverts. {Don't miss what Holley Gerth says about loving us well!}
And that's pretty much what I'm going to be doing the next few weeks as we nest at our little Cape Cod haven. My Mom hasn't been well so I plan on spending as much time with my parents as they can take {oh, no, is she here AGAIN?!}. I'm hoping for endless walks, searching for those ever elusive hidden sea glass gems along deserted shorelines. I plan to fill those yet unclaimed journal pages with deeply seated words that are yearning to be spilled out. Assorted family members will be coming and going and I can't wait to spend some needed downtime with them as we turn the corner into autumn's soft glow.
I'll be dropping in online very occasionally. 'Cause responding to your comments has become a non-negotiable joy around here! But then I'll be stepping back again to rest and read, putter and walk, re-imagine and re-create. And maybe lean straight into an serendipitous adventure or two. Without all that endlessly enticing online stimulation.
Unplugged.
I'll miss you. I bet I'll even have some withdrawal symptoms.
Because sometimes the gift we need the most can be the hardest one to receive.
And yet the exact opposite is true for us as human beings.
We've got to unplug from those very same screens to breathe deep in solitude. To recharge our waning energy, to revive the depths of who we are at the soul level, and invite the creative juices to flow with more oomph.
Especially us introverts. {Don't miss what Holley Gerth says about loving us well!}
And that's pretty much what I'm going to be doing the next few weeks as we nest at our little Cape Cod haven. My Mom hasn't been well so I plan on spending as much time with my parents as they can take {oh, no, is she here AGAIN?!}. I'm hoping for endless walks, searching for those ever elusive hidden sea glass gems along deserted shorelines. I plan to fill those yet unclaimed journal pages with deeply seated words that are yearning to be spilled out. Assorted family members will be coming and going and I can't wait to spend some needed downtime with them as we turn the corner into autumn's soft glow.
I'll be dropping in online very occasionally. 'Cause responding to your comments has become a non-negotiable joy around here! But then I'll be stepping back again to rest and read, putter and walk, re-imagine and re-create. And maybe lean straight into an serendipitous adventure or two. Without all that endlessly enticing online stimulation.
Unplugged.
I'll miss you. I bet I'll even have some withdrawal symptoms.
Because sometimes the gift we need the most can be the hardest one to receive.
Hugs ~
~> If you've never subscribed to this online community, would you do so today? And I'd love to know that you'll be here when I roll back on in ...
