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Hi Reader ~ Almost every year, something happens that makes me happy and puzzles me at the same time. If you know the answer, I’d love to hear it. A bluebird couple tries to get into the house. The male leads the way. And no, it isn’t that he sees his reflection. I know because he tries every window, and I’ve gone outside and looked in. There’s no reflection. What I see is the room. And I know that’s what he sees too, because he, and sometimes she, sees me looking back. We have one of those staring contests, which ends when he decides this window is not going to open and flies to the next one. He pecks at it until I come into the room. Then he waits. I don’t open the window. He tries another. I have little pictures of his head looking in below. Is that cute or what? Yes, we have bluebirds all year, even though they’re known to migrate. Our property has plenty of cozy places to nest. Maybe he’s just saying thanks. Or “see you later” in the fall, and “here I am” in the spring. Someone told me bluebirds go looking for winter roosts in the fall, and a warm, lit room may look like the best cavity on the property. I like my version better. Either way, it’s one of my favorite things. I wrote about the bluebird who visited in the spring, and what I think he was trying to tell me, here: Does What We Think Create? It’s no mistake that bluebirds are a symbol of joy and happiness. Not a bad thing for all of us to practice. 🌸 Say Yes To What Moves You Seven simple steps to consistent happiness. A small group, blooming together.The bluebird doesn't practice joy; it's just what he is. For the rest of us it takes a little work, and that's what Blooming Your Life is for. Eight modules, seven live calls with me on Zoom, and a cohort that starts together on January 21. Early-bird pricing is open now, and when it's full, it's full. Code EBBLY27 takes 20% off through December 15. 🌿 FROM MY WALK: Autumn Beauty 📚 Before Anyone Else The Ruby Sisters, before they were the Ruby Sisters. November 1.The First Ruby is the story that comes before A Last Gift: the holidays, the house, and the first thread of the sisters' story. If you've read the series, this is where it all began. If you haven't, it's the gentlest place to start. This Week's Quote Hope is the thing with feathers Until next time—be well and magnify good. ✨ With love, PS: If you have a theory about why the bluebird wants in, reply and tell me. I read every one, and I’ll share the best guesses next time. Books by Beca Lewis Stories that shift the way you see everything.Mystery, women's fiction, visionary fantasy, and spiritual self-help. Pick a world and step in. |
Shifting Stories and Writing Stories—all focused on the reason perception is reality and practical ways to shift it towards what you wish to experience in your life.
Listen to this one On the way to yoga one morning, I passed a man walking down the street proudly displaying his political affiliation. It was not mine. For a split second, I judged him. And then I judged myself for judging him. A few blocks later, I stopped judging us both and did what I always do. I thought about perception. Yes, my favorite topic. Because whether we notice it or not, perception rules. The question I couldn’t answer Somewhere between the corner and the studio door, a...
Hi Reader ~ A little over a year ago I sat down to write one short story. A daughter, a rainy crosswalk, a father who wasn't supposed to be there. I thought that was all it was. One story, done in a week, on to the next thing. It wasn't done. Maya wouldn't leave. And then Helen showed up, and Alice, and the sisters in Not In Time, and finally Calla with her impossible maps. Five women who see what the rest of us can't, each of them sure at first that what they see is a burden. Each of them...
Join the conversation on Substack... While walking one morning, I had a magical experience. As I turned the corner onto the next street, the world went silent. Not nature—the world. I made no sound. My feet were silent. My breath was silent. It was as if the person I call me wasn’t there. I had become a camera moving through the green trees, recording birdsong, feeling the blue of the sky as if it reached all the way down to the road. I was gliding through a piece of the universe, and yet the...