I’m sitting in my car, the one I got last night to replace the totaled one from November’s car accident. This car I don’t really like but it’s the most practical thing right now after two hospitalizations, one extra trip to the ER and then losing my job and being thrown back in the tunnel. I am losing my health insurance. I even scratched the car this morning because it so very long and I am used to small cars. I look out over the Puget Sound and realize I have not been to the water in months. It is real nice.

I’ve had a white pillar candle burning pretty much all day, every day to remind me of what the spirits told me the night of the accident.

Keep open. Open. Open. We can’t help you unless you open yourself to us. This is what faith is.

Even the candle has been having issues. There was an air bubble, so the wick bored a hole downwards making a chasm, a situation set up to drown the flame. I called the shop and they are ordering another, but I need this candle now. I’ve been tending it.

Mom used to say, “God helps those who help themselves” but lately, I’ve been crumbling. I need someone to help me whether I can lift myself or not. People do come. I would not have this car if someone had not come. Less things to overcome now.

Have you had times when things were so hard, you didn’t think you could go on? Isn’t it incredible the way life does just that – going on?

Spirits gently tug me to shift my vision, to include the blessings with the hardships.

There is always darkness,

they say.

There is always, endlessly, more than darkness, too. This is the fiber your world is made of. Focus on only the dark, and a cycle of self-blame or hatred or despair is spawned, leaving no attention left for the rest of the colors. So many colors.

Stay open. Open. Open. Use your energy wisely.

Guidance and inspiration is all around me, though I am sometimes too numb to feel it.

Open. Open. Open. Rest.

Accept what is in the moment, then choose how to react.

People have gone through so much worse – war, torture, agony – and come back. I am in the dark where the sustenance is endless. It is ok for things to suck, with no comparing.

My consolation is that when this is over, I will have more depths to draw from. I will have more compassion. I will be a better hollow bone. My consolation is that I have the most beautiful, diverse, spirit-rich people in my life. My consolation is that I am alive. My mind is functioning and I have a place to sleep. My consolation is that I know there will be more good things in this life. I will have more opportunity to bring people together, always deeper, always more light.

With your mountainous support, I continue to pray.

Thank you.

Tasara