Lift up your spirits as you explore some of these uplifting reads, from all walks of life.
Getting a rare disease diagnosis can be devastating. This father has chosen to look for the positive and to leave a legacy for his children and others. Be inspired with this excerpt from Bedtime Stories for the Living and then download your own copy. Also check out his writing advice! Leave your questions and comments as you follow the tour. Best of luck entering the giveaway!
A practice of gratitude is so important in our lives. And sometimes you need a little nudge to help you along the way. Learn more about the 365 Days of Gratitude Journal by Marielle S. Smith and then get your own copy to get you started. She also shares with us her top 5 songs to listen to while doing your practice. Best of luck entering the giveaway! And follow the tour for more.
Read an excerpt:
Ella
The first lesson of waiting is that we are on the outside. Like the boy on the sideline; like the not-engaged friend who pins wedding gowns on Pinterest; like me squinting for lines that fail to emerge on the pregnancy test; none of us--whether or not we are actively waiting-- is where we want to be. This might not seem true, of course. This actually might seem patently untrue. You might be happily ensconced in a loving family, a marriage, a tight-knit circle of friends. You might belong to a country club or a sorority, a church, a civic group.
But, like that of all who wait, the human condition is actually a condition of being on the outside, an unhappy state that writers and poets have noticed since time out of mind. It's true of all of us, but we manage to obscure it from ourselves with all manner of distraction: accumulated wealth and possessions, meaningful or frivolous activity, even what is truly good and beautiful.
The problem is that you can't contend with something if you simultaneously ignore it. And the fact of our exile--the fundamental state of all human existence--is not going away.
Waiting can teach us this.
Based on this idea, we launch a quite simple model, called the “Mental Internet.” The basic metaphor here is that somewhat in the way our computers are linked together via the Internet, the ‘consciousnesses’ of all humans, and perhaps all living beings, are linked together via some sort of Mental Internet. Consciousness, like the Internet, is—on some level—something that we are all doing together; it is networking. And telepathy is the communication that drives this network.
I therefore invite the reader to engage in a little thought experiment throughout the book: namely that an Internet Model of consciousness may have some relevance. Galileo once invited the Inquisition to look through his telescope in order to see what he himself had seen. But, as we know, the inquisitors were not very keen on having their horizons expanded and instead muttered murkily of ‘the work of the Devil.’ However, I take it for granted that the reader has a radically more open attitude than those darkened souls, and I am therefore confident that my invitation will be well received.
I find it intriguing to think that our everyday perception of Space and Time may, in some respects, be merely a mental frame, a habit. And therefore it might be possible to think outside the box in a more radical way. The proposed thought experiment about a Mental Internet allows for this, and telepathy can then be considered as the ‘emails’ sent and the ‘downloads’ made via this mental network. Many phenomena that otherwise would appear inexplicable will in light of this model fall quite nicely into place. More (much more) about this later!
John was also tall. I remember the first time we met. We arranged to meet at a local Italian restaurant. He arrived 15 minutes early so he was already seated when I arrived. He came to the hostess station to meet me and I marveled at the presence of his physique in his tan-colored jacket and turtleneck sweater. As our evening started winding down, I stepped away from the table and returned to find that John was not at the table. ‘Had I been gone too long?’ I wondered. Was I gone so long that he thought that I had left the restaurant? Time can be fleeting but I didn’t have the sense that too much time had passed.
After a moment or two John returned to the table with a guy who turned out to be the floor manager. As it turned out, John had arrived at the restaurant without his wallet and he lived one hour away. He was so embarrassed. Here he was on a first date at a very nice restaurant with no cash or credit cards. Of course he did not want to ask me, his date, to cover the expenses of our first date. What kind of first impression would that make? So during his absence from the table he was making arrangements to pay. Luckily, a checkbook was in the inside pocket of his jacket.
This eventful evening lead to a second, third and fourth date. John was the consummate gentleman always opening doors, pulling out chairs, holding hands and catering to my desires. Did I mention that he loved to cook? His face would light up at the thought of grilling, baking or preparing a meal.
We met in April and that May he was surprising me with a beautiful flowerbed and stone walkway, for Mother’s Day.