Dear friends,
At the risk of repeating myself, I respond in calligraphy; I receive your requests. As I have specified, I am the movement of the responses; they are there or they are not. This is not a magazine quiz, nor a flattery that I grant you. I penetrate and deliver to you only what presents itself.
I kindly ask that you grant me this prelude to your masterpiece, which is taking shape under my pen.
I receive your DMs and thank you all for them. There is no privilege whatsoever in my responses, at most a different resonance depending on your requests, or at least a need to support your emotions in that regard.
Nevertheless, the texts assemble themselves for each of you, sometimes through obsidian or rock crystal, sometimes on a prose, sometimes on one of your chakras; silence is an illusion that one chooses. I invite you to take this time to understand that it is not being written that matters, but the signature that is truly there within you.
Those who might be put off by the slowness of replies, I embrace you in this initial … to learn that love is accepting being loved, and not wishing to be loved…
See you later, perhaps a few more moments of tenderness to leave with you…
For me, forgetting is the only moment when one remembers that someone is waiting for you…
Lolly