"Perceiving Another's Existence Wholly Is Already The Most Profound Act Of Love We Beings Can Give To

The Magic, the Wand and the Wielder

What if we have been the magicians of our own lives all along~? Think about it. When a magician performs magic, a wave of a hand or wand seems to make something appear from seemingly "nowhere". We all have this ability within us. We conjure up all these ideas, thoughts, concepts from this astral space and are able to ground these ideas from the ethers to the 3D. That's our magic. We perform this magic act in many ways whether we choose to compose a song, write a story, design or craft something...we are the magic. Our vessel and talents are the magic wand through which we channel and carry out these spells. The action oriented vehicle for that magic. And overall...? We are the wielders of our personal magic, we get to decide how we wield our power. We are limitless; we have access to infinite potential within the very calluses of our hands or the abstract space of our minds. I think that's personally very inspiring...you are the magician of your life...a creator.

~Elunara W.

The Spirit of Adventure

I was pondering about the spirit or nature of adventure; of play. And I think play is such an integral aspect within one's lifestyle but it is often suppressed with more work, more productivity—play is met with this subconscious mindset of needing to do more so we can possibly "earn" it. But play is not something to be earned necessarily. Play has always been more than a pass time...it is a basic necessity. It naturally invokes curiosity, exploration and this is how we stumble upon some of the most beautiful and unique experiences or discoveries in our lives. Think about it...when playing video games, often times along the way, we stumble upon secret achievements or hidden rewards for being playful; being silly. And often times, these are achievements we do not expect or foresee but they spark such joy and delight within oneself. Sometimes wandering off and exploring a game map culminates all these fulfilling side quests—throwing that random basketball into the oh-so-conveniently placed hoop, popping that misplaced balloon with a spiky ball you collected a minute ago or crawling into that weird space that's shaped oddly similar to the size of your in-game avatar. And what do we receive for our random spark of curiosity...? A reward. And other times we may receive or discover absolutely nothing special but at least we'd have something to giggle about and more to explore. I find that very precious. That feeling of limitless potential...that anything is possible if I at least try. To be able to allow oneself to venture into the unknown at times and let oneself be led by curiosity and playfulness is something we all need to some degree in our lives. I've found that life is filled with many of such side quests that, in hindsight, leave an irreplaceable impression—these experiences are truly invaluable.

~Elunara W.

'The Record Keepers' | 26/03/25

Weekly Artsy Post inspired by the wise spirit of dragonflies~ ~whimsicweaver

2007-07-29

wait i'm literally living the life my female ancestors dreamed of i can't waste it

Concrete Memories

Dear little one, I see you laying here again today. Another day passes by and of course I’m here to stay. We’ve been through it all, more than anyone would know. I’ve seen your smiles, your cries and the tears in yourself you tried so hard to sew. Yes, I’ve seen it all, whether messy or pretty. All of it. You’re adorable, little one, you must know you truly are even with all the wrappers from chocolates and candy bars. I’ve been here since the moment you were taken to me. From then on our relationship has never ceased and even in the silence of the night, you’ve never been truly alone. I wished every time little one, oh so desperately wished to wipe your tears and give you a little kiss. I’m always here and here I’ll of course always stay yet, sometimes I worry. I’ll surely miss you when you need to go away. I start to wonder at times if you’ll miss me like I’ll miss you, then I remember your glistening eyes and the warmth of your lingering touch. You reached out and for the first time, our hands pressed together like a light embrace. You smiled at me, oh so tenderly little one, so gently sweetheart, I almost missed the firm promise you tucked into the folds of my concrete heart. “Thank you, for being my home” those simple words. Six simple words in that soft tone of yours, little one. I knew that those words came from your heart that shone, resonated from the memories we hold together. Missing you, indeed I’ll miss you more than I’ll ever be able to say but my heart, my love, my safety raised you to fly away. With the bright lavender of my skin, I’ll always keep your lofty words here safely, waiting. Waiting. Waiting patiently for your return, I know I’ll see that lovely smile of yours again someday. After all, home was never truly this whole house but the space we created within my four walls. ~Elunara W.

—Letter to my inner child from the perspective of my childhood bedroom~

The Weaver of Tunes

"I wonder if the wind giggles in fondness or even gasps in excitement when they discover a being who hangs windchimes. I wonder if the air stops for just a moment in complete awe…as if breathless at the sight of glistening beams under the sun's rays. I wonder if it then rushes forward, a complete, wholehearted laugh swishing by…oh so willing to play a tune. I wonder how many people truly hear the whispers and hums of the pure wind. Maybe it can be a lonely thing sometimes but oh I still wonder…the absolute joy in finally playing its own unique tune, oh so open and willing to sing for anyone who'd stop for a second to listen." ~Elunara W.

Visualisation of wind weaving through wind chimes. We should stop and listen to the song of the wind sometimes. Maybe we may learn a thing or two <3

The Wisps of Life

We sat, it was both of us alone in there. I asked, “Do you regret it, do you regret any of it at all?” She stared at me with an almost unreadable smile As if—as if I already knew the answers to that. As if we both knew the answer to that question.

“Not really,” she laughed with this carefree spirit. Head tilted back with uncontained mirth and all. I wondered briefly if the shadows of life had ever truly graced her, Or had the upturns of her lips tasted the weight of the world exponentially. Perhaps one too many times—one too many.

Our eyes locked and for a split second, I saw it. The intricately woven tapestry of life—threads of gold beyond the void. Clumsy fingers red and sore from the unexpected thorns and pricks. I understood it all. I smiled in return, of course she had, I’d know that more than anyone, wouldn’t I?

“Do you regret any of it at all?” there’s a knowing glint in her kind eyes. Brief memories of cold eyes, wet pillows, sleepless nights, homesickness. Suffocating silence, tearful letters, words—so many words left unsaid. Tremors of an empty stomach, deepening shadows, the complete isolation. That dreadful feeling of being too different, the unforeseen weight of generations prior.

Yet—I’ve always known something else. Something more, something warmer.

There’s a faint but steady pulse against where my hand lays on my chest. Tearful laughter, wind in my hair, dirt under my feet, chirping of birds every dawn, Clammy hands in mine, a comforting shoulder, broken facades, the gentle whisper of weary but hopeful hearts connecting, the glimmers of hope—gold amongst the dark. I breathed in, then out and suddenly as our eyes met again, I knew. I was alive.

Reaching out, cold meeting warm, our palms connected for a moment in time, “No, not really,” I echoed with a giggle, pulling away a second later. I got up, facing away, sore hands reaching out towards the cold doorknob now. As the cold surface thawed against the heat of my palms, I took one glance back. A foggy handprint, the only remnant of our brief moment shared together. ~Elunara W.

Joy Sullivan, “Want", Instructions for Traveling West