richelle-goodrich

Closed books are like closed eyes__ou must open them to see anything.

The interruption did nothing but earn her a similar slap, as I__ sure she knew it would. Sometimes I wondered if my mother spoke up at the wrong time on purpose. As often as we endured my father__ abuse, she had to be aware that it wouldn__ save me from a beating but simply earn her one as well. Or was it that sharing my fate made her feel less guilt-ridden about those things that happened to me?

I've a habit of placing a happy-face or a frowny-face on my calendar, depending on what kind of day I've had. _Often I slap a droopy circle in the box, discouraged by the things I failed to accomplish and the unpleasant encounters endured. _But then, invariably, a wise muse stops to ask me these three questio

Conundrum: _A fun word to repeat over and over again when no one's listening. Actual meaning is as puzzling as the need to chant the word.

Live today facing forward__ith your back on yesterday, your eyes on tomorrow, and your head and heart in the moment.

Trust in the silent doers. It is far more difficult to put your dreams into action than into flowery words.

Life isn't all perpetual bliss, nor is it one woeful weeping session. But you can concentrate so hard on noticing moments of one or the other that either a bright outlook or dim expectations becomes your regular illusion.

Nature awakens each day in brilliant autumn colors, making me wish the pale winter would bid adieu.

The sun shines every day without being told that it is brilliant. The mountains stand tall and majestic though no one informs them of their grandeur. The winds twirl and dance with clouds, minus cheers or compliments to inspire their moves. Flowers bloom, showing off colors, long before passing smiles acknowledge any beauty. The ocean claps at its own underwater chorus without topside ears listening. What is the world trying to tell you? Be wonderful because you are. Quit waiting to be told so first.

This thing that troubles you is only one small part of your life. Don't allow it to be all-consuming when there's so much more to embrace.

Mothers observe all, absorb all, give all, forgive all, offer all, suffer all, feel all, heal all, hope for all, pray for all.But most o

Rest assured you make perfectly good nonsense. _I understand you one-hundred-percent not at all.

Last night I danced. My body rose from its slump for the first time since the beginning of sorrows__y fingers beckoning to the stars at arm's length, back arching as tingles bubbled up my spine, hips caught in a silent tempo while on tiptoe I twirled in endless euphoric circles. It didn't matter that you loved me or that you didn't. For I was wanted by the gods last night, their seraphs and muses descending on moonbeams into my midst, caressing my face and gliding their spirited arms about my waist, lifting my toes from the soil that I might feel what it is to fly without heaviness of heart. I danced with them under the glow of a loyal moon. For one brief, visceral dance I joyed as Heaven joys__n endless bliss.And the universe cherished me.

The bitterest hardships, the most daunting trials; none of these are burdens if it means being with you.

He panted over me, winded by his own absurd lecture. The stench of his alcoholic breath stung my nose. Again I didn__ answer. I hoped he__ tire out and end his speech and hobble back to the living room without touching me. Such hopes were unlikely, as was the case this time. __nswer me, you good-for-nuthin_ wench!_ The pain bit instantly as his hand connected with my cheek. I shook my head in answer to his crazy questions, feeling a rise of warm tears.

Life is a puzzle, a riddle, a test, a mystery, a game__hatever challenge you wish to compare it to. Just remember, you're not the only participant; no one person holds all the answers, the pieces, or the cards. The trick to success in this life is to accumulate teammates and not opponents.

Yes, he knew he was falling in love, her way. And the worst part was, as disabling as he found the emotion to be he craved it all the more. To feel this way about a woman was amazing even if it was __emporary and fleeting_, as he__ put it. It was a natural high like he__ never felt before. One he couldn__ get enough of.

I wonder at times if we're not all blind. It just seems there are an abundance of books unread, paint strokes not admired, and performances unattended. So much attention painstakingly sought and not given.