Be careful

 

Be careful who you date and marry… the biggest prison is a home without peace. It’s not the size of the house or the money in your account… it’s the peace inside those four walls. You can live in a mansion and still feel trapped if your partner turns every day into a battlefield.

Don’t just fall for words… watch their character. How do they handle anger, stress, disappointment? Anyone can be sweet when life is easy… but who are they when things get hard?

A peaceful home isn’t built by perfection… it’s built by two people committed to protecting each other’s peace. Two people who communicate with love, hold each other accountable without tearing each other down, and choose respect even in disagreement.

Because no amount of love is worth sacrificing your peace. You’ll never feel free in a home where you walk on eggshells, where love feels conditional, where your voice is silenced. Marriage should be a safe place… a refuge, not a battlefield.

So guard your heart. Be patient. Pay attention to how they live, not just what they say. The greatest blessing isn’t just love… it’s love that brings peace. And that kind of love will never make you feel imprisoned… it will set you free.

Source: Facebook- If you miss me

Anger

Anger is usually our attempt to take a vulnerable emotion and transform it into something a little tougher and more actionable. Things like fear, disappointment, sadness, rejection, and all those other icky, vulnerable emotions leave us feeling helpless. Anger, while being destructive, can make us feel empowered and powerful. This is especially true for men since we’re not really allowed to experience emotions apart from anger in any real way. I think we’re allowed to laugh at things and people, and we get to cry a little when our dog dies or something, but most of the rest is out of bounds. There’s always something under anger. If you can see what emotion you’re actually experiencing, life opens up in a whole new way. ~James Scott Henson

Source: Facebook

Aging is not for the faint of heart.

Aging is not for the faint of heart.

One day, you wake up and realize — youth has quietly slipped away.

But it didn’t leave alone.

It took with it your insecurities, your rush to please, your fear of not being enough.

And in its place?

It left you with something stronger:

A slower pace, but a steadier step.

The wisdom to say goodbye without fear.

The grace to cherish those who choose to stay.

The power to be you, unapologetically.

Aging isn’t about losing — it’s about letting go.

It’s about learning to accept, to release, and to truly see:

That beauty was never just in the mirror…

It lived in every story, scar, and silent strength we carried within.

Aging is a gift. Wear it with dignity.

Unknown

Source: Facebook

I am content here, with myself.

"I love being at home. My life is very simple. I read a lot of books. I watch a lot of films. I listen to a lot of music. I walk the dog. I cook with my family. Yeah, I'm boring." This quote from Cillian Murphy? It's not just a sentiment; it's my everyday reality, and honestly, it feels like the ultimate luxury in our hyper-connected world.

Forget those glossy images of five-star resorts or infinity pools. For me, true indulgence is the profound peace I find within the familiar embrace of my own home. It's not that I never yearn for adventure, but the deep comfort of my personal space is a constant anchor.

Home, for me, isn't just an address; it's a state of being. It's the rich aroma of my morning coffee filling the quiet air. It's the satisfying click of the lock as I shut out the noise of the day. It's sinking into my favorite armchair with a well-loved book.

It's the soft nudge of my dog needing his walk, a gentle rhythm to my day. It's the comforting weight of unread books stacked beside my bed, each promising a new world within these familiar walls. And yes, it's the simple pleasure of pulling on my most comfortable pajamas, signaling a day dedicated to just being.

In a world that screams for constant external validation – the endless scroll of social media, the pressure to achieve and experience, the lure of cheap flights to far-flung places – the real treasure is the quiet permission to simply be at home. It's the ability to be self-sufficient in my own little world, to find my refuge and truly feel its comforting embrace.

Staying home isn't about isolation; it's about cultivating intimacy. It's not loneliness but a deliberate choice.

It's the quiet affirmation: "I am content here, with myself."

We Are Human Angels

Authors

Awakening the Human Spirit

We are the authors of 'We Are Human Angels,' the book that has spread a new vision of the human experience and has been spontaneously translated into 14 languages by readers.

We hope our writing sparks something in you! 

Source: Facebook - We Are Human Angels

ai art by me

Appalachian families in Eastern Kentucky

 

Who was the coal miner behind the song “Coal Miner’s Daughter”? We know about his daughters, but just who was Ted Webb?

Ted Webb, the father of country music legends Loretta Lynn and Crystal Gayle, was a figure rooted in the heart of Appalachian coal country. Born in 1906 in Van Lear, Kentucky, Ted was a man of resilience, shaped by the rugged mountain life and the struggles that came with working the coal mines.

He married Clara Marie Ramey in 1925, and together they raised eight children, including Loretta and Crystal, in the harsh realities of coal camp life. Ted was a coal miner—a hard, dangerous job that defined much of Appalachia during the early 20th century. Coal mining was more than just a livelihood; it was a way of life, and like many Appalachian men, Ted toiled deep underground, knowing that his family's survival depended on his labor.

Ted Webb’s impact on his daughters went beyond just providing for them. His deep love of music had a lasting influence, especially on Loretta. Ted would often sing old-time country and bluegrass songs, and it was through this exposure that Loretta, and later Crystal, developed their own passion for music. Despite the hard life in the coal mines, Ted’s musical spirit lived on in his children, creating a legacy that would ultimately reshape country music.

Although the Webbs lived in extreme poverty, they had a tight-knit family, and Ted’s pride in his daughters’ success was evident. Loretta Lynn’s autobiographical song Coal Miner’s Daughter immortalized Ted Webb and the life of Appalachia’s working class. The song paints a vivid picture of their home in Butcher Holler, Kentucky, where the family struggled but found joy in their love for one another and the music that kept them going.

Ted passed away in 1959, just as Loretta was starting her career in music. Though he never lived to see his daughters rise to international fame, his influence is woven through their work. He was the embodiment of the Appalachian spirit—strong, proud, and determined in the face of adversity. Ted Webb’s life, though grounded in the coalfields of Kentucky, left an indelible mark on country music through the voices of his daughters, who carried the story of Appalachia to the world.

His story sounds so familiar, like it could come from any of ten thousand Appalachian families. Quite a man and quite a family, don’t ya think?

Source: Facebook - Kimmi Jones

Happy Heavenly Birthday Papa May 27, 1914 - July 19, 1981, my coal mining Papa, Blue Diamond Mine, South Eastern Kentucky. He would be 111 years old today. He passed from complications of Black Lung Disease and Lung Cancer the day after my oldest daughters birthday. Rest in heavenly peace my dear, sweet Papa.

...it got me thinking about life.

 

I found a discarded shopping list in a trolley the other day,

and it got me thinking about life.

There was something oddly comforting about that list of eggs, milk and washing-up liquid. A reminder that life is made up of - and mostly filled with - the small things; the everyday things. The things we need and use and reach for, over and over again.

But nestled in amongst the everyday, was the other stuff -

Cakes for work

Anniversary card

Flowers for Mum

Book for holiday

- the stuff that spoke to me of living; of someone making plans and loving people and enjoying themselves.

I found myself wondering if the author had missed something off the list; if they'd forgotten anything whilst shopping, and whether they'd picked up things they'd never intended to buy. I wondered whether they'd bumped into someone they knew in the supermarket, and whether they'd stopped to chat.

The list was finite and yet unfinished; the author had intended the list to end right where it was, and yet there was space for other things that could have been added. Incompletely complete.

That piece of paper alone carried no weight.

But woven in amongst the words, was the thread of life.

Because in life, we'll experience the beautiful balance of the every-day and the every-so-often. And instead of trying to 'complete' it, as if it's some sort of tick sheet, we'll learn how to enjoy it; with cakes and flowers and books. And with people we care about.

We'll forget things in life. We'll miss things, we'll overlook things and we'll find things that we never knew we wanted or needed, until we found them.

We'll bump into old friends, we'll plan for the future and we'll leave behind things that aren't important to us anymore.

And we'll make lists and scribbled notes as we go.

Maybe not with pen and paper,

and maybe not the kind someone else might find discarded in a shopping trolley,

but we'll still leave little pieces of ourselves behind for others to find, even without realising.

And in doing so, in between the

eggs

milk

washing up liquid,

we'll realise that the true beauty of life

is in the way that it is everything all at once.

A list and an entire story all at the same time.

Finite and yet unfinished.

Incompletely

complete.

*****

Becky Hemsley 2025

Artwork by Eric Noirmain (also called Lortiwa)

Source: Facebook - Becky Hemsley Poetry

Time in a Bottle

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

[HD] David Gilmour - Pink Floyd - Marooned (The Strat Pack)

The absolutely best performance guitar solo of David Gilmour

Earth is billions of years old, and we are fortunate enough to be on it at the exact time as David Gilmour.

Pink Floyd - Hey You (HQ)

Hey You

 

Life

Life is too short to waste any amount of time on wondering what other people think about You. In the first place, if they had better things going on in their lives, they wouldn't have the time to sit around and talk about You. What's important to Me is not others' opinions of Me, but what's important to Me is My opinion of Myself.

None of us are getting out of here alive, so please stop treating Yourself like an afterthought. Live in the moment. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the Truth that You're carrying in Your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.

The mind replays what the heart can't delete.

I think it's important to realize that no matter how good you are to people, it won't make them good to you.

Several posts gathered from:

Source: Facebook - Philosophy of Life

Be Kind

 

"10 years ago, I had this tiny old man who would come through the drive-thru at the liquor store every other day. He wouldn’t even look at me, he would just hand me the money and say he wanted a six pack can of Natty. Now, I was at the store most of my day, and all you weirdos were like my family. I have a lot of you on my Facebook even now, years later. So, like, you get it. I wanted everyone to be my homie.

It made me crazy he never even acted like he knew who I was. After about a year of this, I started asking him if he wanted to hear the daily joke from one of my other regulars. He wouldn't say yes or no, but he definitely heard me butcher the joke every time. I kept telling him all I wanted out of life was to catch him smiling as he drove away. He mostly just shook his head and asked if I would stop holding his beer hostage so he could leave. I told him some day he would probably not hate me.

We did this for maybe another two years. By now, I really thought he was tired of my crap. I still never got more than a head shake, because he stopped telling me what he wanted and would just hand me money. THEN, one day, he threw something at me after I lovingly slid the hostage beer into his lap. It was a shirt which said, 'BEER ANGEL.' My life was complete.

After this we never talked about it, but I would see him smile a little every time I wore it. He started warming up to me, I felt, and it only took four years. Every now and then he would hand me a stack of jokes he printed out from one of his emails. I was in. He would bring me little things here and there he said made him think of me, like a little figurine of a cow lifting weights, and a candle he found outside by his trash can. One time it was a Playboy I still have on my bookshelf, because he 'liked the girl's earrings.' I had never heard anyone laugh as hard as he did that day.

So, about six years into the drive-thru friendship, he asked if 'Purple' and I would do him a favor. He handed me a debit card and a grocery list and told us we could spend $20 on ourselves if I could go to the store for him. He was on oxygen and just couldn’t even make it up to the door anymore. I literally jumped for joy as soon as I shut the window.

THEN he asked if I could cut his hair. He came into the shop a few times, but one day he was looking shaggy and said he didn’t think he could make it to the chair, unless I wanted to carry him. I told him I’d drag him all the way in on a blanket. He declined, so I told him I’d swing by after work. He greeted Violet and me (she was three at the time) with chocolates which had liquor in them. Again, I can still hear him cackling.

The last couple of years I would go to his house every few weeks and bring him lottery tickets and cut his hair while he did a crossword. I genuinely enjoyed him. He was funny without trying, and he was just awful in the best way. We would talk about our families and a lot of other weird crap. I was telling him about something my dad had said and referred to myself as 'Kate.' He said 'Is your name Kate??? I just thought it was 'butthole?' I told him my family all calls me Kate. It makes me feel loved.

A couple haircuts later, he hands me a check and I walk out to the car and see he put 'Kate.' I cried. The last time I saw him he called me 'sweetheart' as I walked out. I looked back at him and really looked at him. So tiny and frail. I told him I preferred 'butthole.'

A couple weeks later, I drove to Dexter for his funeral. Only a few of his family and friends were there. I stood awkwardly off to the side, as it was at a grave site, and I assumed everyone would think I was a freak show. I was sobbing. After the service everyone walked over to me and said, 'You must be Kate!! He talked about you all the time!!'

I have been thinking about Pete a lot lately. I haven't seen him in a year now, but Violet and I talk about him often. I sure miss him.

Please be kind to people. Obnoxiously, annoyingly, insanely kind."

Credit Katie Sawyer

Source: Facebook - Curiously Unusual Wonders

Maybe you’re not where you thought you’d be

 

Maybe you’re not where you thought you’d be at this point in your life.

Perhaps things haven’t worked out the way you’d hoped and everything got turned upside down a time or two.

You see other people and they seem so happy, in love, or doing all the things ..and you think, “Why can’t I have all that, too?”

Breathe.

For just a moment, step outside yourself and realize there’s always more to everyone’s story- most of which we never know.

Maybe they hate their body.

Perhaps their relationship is drowning.

Or maybe they’re battling depression.

You’ll probably never know, and truthfully, you don’t need to.

Stop comparing yourself and your life to everyone else.

We each have our own battles, so never assume yours is worse than anyone else’s.

What matters is how you feel about your life, not how it compares to anyone else’s.

If you want things around you to change, decide to change them.

Stop asking “why” and start asking “how.”

Every day is a new opportunity to change your story and rewrite the script.

Start with the little stuff- making the small changes in your life that will slowly transform your days..

Eat better and exercise.

Change your style.

Read some good books.

Spend time with great friends.

Learn something new every day.

No one can go there for you but you don’t need them to.

You just need to remember your dreams, learn to love yourself , find your magic and your reasons every day to evolve.

You’ve got one shot at this.

Don’t spend your time staring at others wanting to be them.

Invest your energy into yourself and embracing the changes that will make you happy.

Don’t be the person that looks back and asks “what if?”

Start today, start somewhere.

You don’t have to see the whole journey, just the next step.

Ask yourself what makes you happy and what you’re passionate about..

Then chase those things, relentlessly.

You deserve it.

This is your wake up call.

Make the most of it.

|ravenwolf

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Source: Facebook - The Ravenwolf

May

 

MAY

May your days be filled with laughter.

May your chores complete themselves.

May your mind have time to wander.

To a sandy beach of shells.

May your morning stretch be graceful.

May your lunch be full of taste.

May your inspiration find you.

May no moment go to waste.

May your lonely days be lacking.

May your friendships linger strong.

May your thoughts be full of wonder.

May your worries all be gone.

May your money flow like water.

May your problems float away.

May your needs be met and more so.

May you wake to sunny days.

May you find the strength inside you.

May you learn to look within.

May you see yourself more kindly.

May that journey now begin.

Donna Ashworth

https://amzn.to/3JVMJlZ

Art by Annie Isa

Broken Vessels (Amazing Grace) - Hillsong UNITED

I learned my worth the hard way

 

I learned my worth the hard way a long time ago.

Nothing has ever come easy for me and I’ve fought to become the person that I am today..

So, when I say I know my worth, I’ve paid for it dearly..

In countless broken hearts, dead end relationships and lessons learned the hard way.

Sure, there were times when I wished my journey was a little easier or things went my way more often,

But I’ve learned that everything happens for a reason..

And everything I’ve been through helped me forge a strength that won’t die and a belief in myself that no one can ever take away from me.

So, when I tell you that I’m a keeper, I’m not just talking to hear myself talk..

I truly believe that about myself.

I’m a keeper-

One of the beautifully deep and passionately fiery souls that pour all of themselves into everything they do and everyone they love.

So, I’m standing here telling you that you have the chance to love me.

Not on your terms or mine, but with mutual respect, communication and love.

I’ll never be okay being just an option or will I ever accept fighting for your attention.

So, this is your one chance to love me the way I deserve.

Maybe I’m not the one for you or maybe you aren’t ready..that’s not for me to say.

But if you’re ready to step up and love me the right way, then don’t hold back and don’t mince words.

I’m always going to be a keeper, but I’ll never be the one that begs you to stay and keep me.

It’s up to you to realize that I’m worth it.

|ravenwolf

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Source: Facebook - The Ravenwolf

She’s done looking back

 

She’s done looking back, questioning herself and dwelling on her mistakes.

She’s rising like the dawn of a new day, brighter, stronger and more powerful than she’s ever been.

All her life, she’s battled, struggled and fought for everything’s she’s wanted..

She didn’t get the breaks and help to climb the mountains that she faced.

She’s more than a survivor, she’s a warrior queen with a fiery spirit and a strong heart.

No longer will she allow others to take advantage of her and she’s turning the page on a new chapter..today.

No more excuses, no more apologies.

This day has been a long time coming..

When she started fighting for her dreams and stopped settling for less than she deserves-

In love, in life and in all the things that matter.

She’s casting aside the pain of her often broken heart and she’s using that anguish as fuel for her to rise stronger from the ashes.

Sure, she’s afraid and doesn’t have all the answers, but she knows she doesn’t have to..

She just has to get up, keep going and take each day and step one at a time.

Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the knowledge that some things are more important..

Her happiness, her life, her self worth, her friends.

Those are worth any price and she’s going to battle for what she believes in.

She’s been beaten down, dragged through failure and broken more times than she can remember..

But those challenges never defined her..

They forged her will in the fires that tried to consume her.

The flames made her the warrior she is.

Her time is now and she’s rising.

She’s taking back her life and her voice will be heard with resounding passion and conviction.

This day is long overdue and she’s seizing it with both hands and standing in front of the storms that sought to bring her to her knees.

She’s stared adversity, disaster and failure in the eyes before...

But now, she’s not wavering any more.

She’s strong, she believes and she knows she will continue to rise.

She has but a single thought as she charges forth into the struggles and fires that once almost ruined her and convinced her that she couldn’t withstand the fury of life:

“Today, I become the storm...”

|ravenwolf

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Source: Facebook - The Ravenwolf

ai art by me

Perhaps the month...

 

MAY

Perhaps the month of May is permission…

yes, you may.

You may, release your winter weary bones up to the light.

Yes, you may, feel lighter, be lighter.

Yes, you may fall into ease

with the flow that is all around you

and yes, you, my love,

may allow joy to visit whenever she sees fit.

May you see, this month,

that life is much easier when you let go a little.

And look around you for the inspiration nature brings.

Perhaps the month of May is permission…

yes, you may.

Go ahead.

Take it all.

Donna Ashworth

Happy new month to you all.

Yes, you may xx

The poem ‘May’ is in my latest book, To The Women

Write it on your heart

 

“Write it on your heart

that every day is the best day

in the year.

He is rich who owns the day,

and no one owns the day

who allows it to be invaded

with fret and anxiety.

Finish every day

and be done with it.

You have done what you could.

Some blunders and absurdities,

no doubt crept in.

Forget them as soon as you can,

tomorrow is a new day;

begin it well and serenely,

with too high a spirit

to be cumbered with your

old nonsense.

This new day is too dear,

with its hopes and invitations,

to waste a moment on the yesterdays.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Jim Warren Artist

    Source: Facebook - Poet's Corner / Esquina Poetica

Two Mothers Remembered

Two Mothers Remembered
I had two mothers – two mothers I claim,
Two different people, yet with the same name.
Two separate women, diverse by design,
But I loved them both because they were mine.
The first was the mother who carried me here,
Gave birth, nurtured me, and launched my career.
She was the one whose features I bear,
Complete with the facial expressions I wear.
She gave her love, which follows me yet,
Along with examples in life that she set.
As I got older, she somehow younger grew,
And we’d laugh as just mothers and daughters do.
But then came the time that her mind clouded so,
And I sensed that the mother I knew would soon go.
So quickly she changed and turned into the other,
A stranger dressed in the clothes of my mother.
Oh, she looked the same, at least at arm's length,
But now she was the child, and I was her strength.
We’d come full circle, we women three,
My mother the first, the second, and me.
And if my own children should come to a day
When a new mother comes and the old goes away,
I’d ask of them nothing that I didn’t do.
Love both of your mothers as both have loved you.  

Author: Joann Snow Duncanson

Source: Facebook - Animal Discovery

Blue Eyes

 

A groundbreaking study by researchers at the University of Copenhagen found that all humans with blue eyes can trace their ancestry back to a single individual who lived between 6,000 and 10,000 years ago. This genetic mutation occurred in the OCA2 gene, which controls melanin production in the iris.

The discovery was led by Dr. Hans Eiberg, who found that this specific genetic switch doesn’t remove eye color entirely but “dilutes” brown eyes to blue. This same mutation has been found in every person with blue eyes studied to date—suggesting they all inherited it from a common ancestor.

Source: Facebook - Ancient history

RIP Pope Francis

Beautiful thoughts by Pope Francis while he was hospitalized.

“The walls of hospitals have heard more honest prayers than churches...
They have witnessed far more sincere kisses than those in airports...
It is in hospitals that you see a homophobe being saved by a gay doctor.
A privileged doctor saving the life of a beggar...
In intensive care, you see a Jew taking care of a racist...
A police officer and a prisoner in the same room receiving the same care...
A wealthy patient waiting for a liver transplant, ready to receive the organ from a poor donor...
It is in these moments, when the hospital touches the wounds of people, that different worlds intersect according to a divine design. And in this communion of destinies, we realize that alone, we are nothing.
The absolute truth of people, most of the time, only reveals itself in moments of pain or in the real threat of an irreversible loss.
A hospital is a place where human beings remove their masks and show themselves as they truly are, in their purest essence.
This life will pass quickly, so do not waste it fighting with people.
Do not criticize your body too much.
Do not complain excessively.
Do not lose sleep over bills.
Make sure to hug your loved ones.
Do not worry too much about keeping the house spotless.
Material goods must be earned by each person—do not dedicate yourself to accumulating an inheritance.
You are waiting for too much: Christmas, Friday, next year, when you have money, when love arrives, when everything is perfect...
Listen, perfection does not exist.
A human being cannot attain it because we are simply not made to be fulfilled here.
Here, we are given an opportunity to learn.
So, make the most of this trial of life—and do it now.
Respect yourself, respect others. Walk your own path, and let go of the path others have chosen for you.
Respect: do not comment, do not judge, do not interfere.
Love more, forgive more, embrace more, live more intensely!
And leave the rest in the hands of the Creator.”
—Pope Francis

Helen Keller

In March 1924, Helen Keller wrote a letter that still gives the world goosebumps.

Deaf and blind since infancy, Keller had spent her life redefining what was possible. But one evening, gathered around a radio with her family, she was about to experience something utterly unexpected. The New York Symphony was performing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony live. Someone in the room suggested she place her hand on the radio receiver to feel the vibrations.

What happened next defied reason—and redefined beauty.

With her fingers resting lightly on the diaphragm of the receiver, Keller felt more than vibration. She described the experience as “a sea of sound breaking against the silent shores of my soul.” Through the patterns of trembling and rhythm, she felt the pulse of cornets, the roar of drums, and the silken flow of violins. When the chorus soared into Beethoven’s triumphant “Ode to Joy,” she said it was like hearing “angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood.”

It wasn’t hearing—not in the way we understand it. But it was something deeper. She felt music not just on her fingertips, but in her heart. She recognized joy, sadness, stillness, and power—all without a single note reaching her ears.

And in one of the most poignant passages of her letter, Helen remembered that Beethoven, too, was deaf. She said, “I marveled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others.”

A century later, that same joy lives on—because she proved that art has no boundary, and the human spirit can sense beauty in ways words can never fully explain. 

Source: Facebook - Colours of the Wind