I’m still here.
In my turret, looking out over the crumbly beauty of this sleepy little place. Only today, things aren’t as clear as when I wrote to you from my crystal harbor view.
Ohh, but our minds are powerful, aren’t they? And what’s in them determines how we start our day. And respectfully, how we end it.
But it’s said that we hold the power to change.
The way we think. And react. And deal with the circumstances of our lives. And although it can be far from easy, it is possible.
We have to strap on our harnesses. Tighten our suspenders. And pull up our socks. Maybe even scale a few towers. Who knows. Whatever it takes. To make ourselves see through the muddle that can descend. Often without warning. No foghorn announcing its arrival. Many times, no chance to gird our loins.
It’s not always easy to get through. Or over. And a seemingly simple switch of sorts won’t work every time. But it’s always worth a try. Because magic is forever in the air. Just waiting to be plucked by the most persistent stars.
But we have to look up.
What ever it is that makes us whole.
Because even when it’s hazy, every Prince…and every Princess…can see their own castle through the fog.
As long as they believe it’s there.