I never allowed myself music. Now my partner DJ’s and my heart is filled with melody. This morning the Holy Spirit musac gave me my to-do list for the day by singing, “Where have all the cowboys gone?” I’ll do the laundry if you pay the bills. Now I sit here stationary, still, soul deep in Spotify beloved and rolling in a song of prayer. Years of fruitless airplay die away, no longer deranged and strung out on uncharted pop I am content and solid in Inspired caress. Each piece curated for healing and happiness.

Forgiveness offers me everything I want and this heart song of mine want’s to soar. I am restored to the key note. Sound for most of my life has been something I needed to resist, from the low distress tone of fighting parents to the high pitched screech of sibling survival. Hair pull perfectly timed to a harried existence of confusion and conformity. Today Clarity has me set adrift on memory bliss. Freed from the ancient dirge that seemed to besiege my early existence, I float with a surf ranch on the horizon. Even the flat Californian coast this winter can’t sink my buoyant Spirit. A perfect wave is gifted from the god’s. I am freed of false responsibility and California dreamin’.

At last it’s a happy dream. I kind of fell into it. Accidentally on purpose I hit a switch deep in my heart and now, soul surfing on pure acceptance and forgiveness, I offer all discordance to the moment. I invite a holy instant of seeing my brother and myself without the past. There is no scratchy grain of sand that isn’t polishing into a pearl. The whales are flourishing, pods of dolphins playfully engage my dry resolve with slick playful shines. I am invited—every little sparkle draws and attracts like an acid micro dose of awakening. This journey is turning, revolving renewing and revealing a son sea shimmer.

Your Father has not forgotten you ~ Shirley Temple in “The Little Princess” 1939

Everyday sunshine. Who knew? Not I. I never dreamed of this… I didn’t dare. “Help me through the day” was my simple prayer. To find an entire Kingdom of happiness waiting for this little princess has my Shirley Temple black and white heart heaving with relief. My father has not forgotten me. My Father has remembered me.

This beautiful creature lying beside me—a merman of fairytale proportions, a prince of peace with a kiss of release. The sea slick king curl on his forehead dipped in my direction, inviting my breath and presence to linger. I rest in his embrace. Gentle, tender, guileless, the lacquer has washed off his surf board and only the plain grain remains. The cool has crept into creases and a tsunami of smiles crashes all composure. He is lost to his cynical East coast cast. Now truly a beach boy as creative as any pet sound he streams inspiration and elevation, tumbling towards ecstasy without restraint. I might sound like I am waxing lyrical here, but the smooth must be celebrated after so much rough, and I am unabashed to mirror eternal realities. This is the point! 5 star waves—cresting.

I aint truckin’ with troughs no more! I’m tuned into the “The Forgotten Song.”

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