In our most vulnerable hour, it is helpful to remember our creative power.

Like dust brushed from an old painting, as we journey beneath the surface layers of life, another landscape is revealed.

Give me meaning, give me soul. Give my rapture, wild, a heart that is raw. Give me a mind that thinks for itself and imagines freely.

Abundance is, but a matter of perception. For here in these lands of plenty, there are more natural treasures than one can behold.

A seed doesn't stay beneath the soil, too afraid to grow. It journeys upwards boldly, for that is all it knows.

Wonder is all around us, when we know how to look. It's often in the simple spaces; a meadow, a stream, an unturned rock.