"Stop telling such outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales."

My favorite children's book is Dr. Seuss' And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. In this story, we meet Marco, a boy with a huge imagination. His cynical father tells him to stop exaggerating the things he sees on his way home everyday. Unable to help himself, Marco sees a horse and a cart on Mulberry Street, and page by page, he transforms that horse and cart into a sensational treasure trove of imaginative wonders, complete with a raja, an elephant, a retinue of police, etc. etc. How can you blame him--what is exciting or inspiring about a horse and cart? However, his fragile other world is crushed when he remembers his father's charge. At the end of the book, his father asks him what he saw on his way home. The last page:

"Nothing," I said, growing red as a beet, "But a plain horse and wagon on Mulberry Street."

Poor Marco.

The world would be a better place if more parents would let their kids daydream. I know I would be a wreck (more so than I already am) if I wasn't allowed the freedom of my limitless imagination.

Love, Shelley.

I write to you, not because you do not know the truth, but because you know it, and because no lie is of the truth. 1 John 2:21

Profound truths come from everywhere.

"I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." -Gandhi

"You should worship God as if you saw Him, for although you cannot see Him, He sees you." -Qu'ran

"Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back into you." - Friedrich Nietzsche

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion." -The Dalai Lama

"I shall never be ashamed of citing a bad author if the line is good." -Seneca

disappointments make for the best appreciations

Have you ever noticed that? I certainly have--many times lately, in fact. My normally impenetrable immune system has come under fire, leaving me drowsy, coughing and swallowing painfully, my neck stiff and sore, and a handful of peaceful slumbers rudely interrupted by the incessant need to breathe. Lame sinuses. I'm not complaining though. What I mean is that I always forget what a blessing health is until I am once removed from it. Which, in turn, makes sickness a blessing.

One of my many quirks as a musician is that I get quietly furious when, entranced in a Chopin ballade or Mozart sonata, I am jolted back to reality by someone calling out the familiar name "Shelley!" I can't explain the place to which I lose myself when I sit at my piano, but it's a place I like to be, and in which no one else exists. To make the transition from one realm of reality to another is jarring. But, as with the sickness, I never appreciate my sweet solitude more than when I am forced to leave it.

Be grateful for the inconveniences and disturbances. Without them, your life might be perfect, but you wouldn't know it.

Love, Shelley.

A beautiful [windy] day

Beth is wonderful, yes? Yes.

So beautiful

The Lady of Shalott - Loreena McKennitt.