I came across some of my early writings while I was doing the Chinese traditional year-end cleanup last weekend .

Slips  of  yellowish  Chinese lined paper began with child-like print ，  uncertainty of cursive  ， to expressive tributaries of  thought   .   I could  smell  the weight of memory-feels held in those pages  and  I wept shivers ... 

I found pieces of me lost . Patterns of purpose became truer as I skimmed  ~  for I still hold it all in my gut  .  However  ， I knew those pages didn’t surface coincidentally .  It was a reminder to listen and follow my intuition   ~   something we all have but sometimes we learn to rationalize and stuff it way down . Though for once I didn’t blame her for not speaking out . 

She needed to wait and grow the colors of courage .

And this morning  ， when the snow fell to rinse me ，  I see why I need to write and speak out ... That’s when my heart reached around and clinched me .

I smiled  ，eyes-closed-soft ，knowing the universe is not only outside but inside of me  .  Which brings me fuller to the circle of our wholeness and the essences of uniqueness . 

Yup ，we all have gifts that are transformed through the kaleidoscope of our alchemy  ...  They are the inner rings of our tree-like wisdom .