From the Desk of Patty L. Fletcher –Precision, Pride, Power

By Patty L. Fletcher

October 9, 2023

Moon Phase Waning Crescent

“As the moon doth wane, so do I release.”

“Let my truth not necessarily be your truth. Yet let us be of one accord.”

Lady Laya MoonWalker

They say,
the power, it’s not real.
Soon,
soon, the power they’ll feel.
Deny it once, and you may be forgiven.
Deny twice, a choice you’ll be given.
Deny thrice,
the reality of the power, you’ll be living.

“We’re all made in the image of our creator.”

If this is so, then so too do we all have powers within. Some faiths call them spiritual gifts. Some call those within their organization prophets. There are priests. There are priestesses. Mage, Wise Women, Old Grandmother Molly. Whatever it’s called, in the largest city, smallest village everything, everywhere, it’s real.

I’ve seen the power of manifestation first-hand. I’ve asked things to be done and seen it so. Today, as the moon wanes, I continue to work toward removing the negativity, stress, people, places, and things, which block me from realizing my truest desires. And as I woke to the first cold snap of the season, I felt the excitement of its energies.

The release of my latest book is near, a move to a better place is coming soon, and I’m realizing more each day, who those I want around me truly are.

I strive to live a more impeccable life while traversing the pathway.

To do otherwise, devaluates all I am. The old cliché “You get out of life what you put in” is true. If that which you do, whatever that happens to be is enormously important to you and you want people to take your effort seriously, you must be willing to put in the work. Otherwise, people tell you what they believe you wish to hear, and at that point, your life becomes nothing more than a flimsy make believe.

Whatever your passion, give it all you have. Stand true. Believe in yourself in all things if you don’t know one else will believe in you.

The ways in which we represent ourselves speak of who we truly are. As Blue and I walked the pathway around our apartment complex, his head was high. His steps were bouncy but true. He showed his pride in the work he does by doing it with precision. This is so, because I’ve made certain to work him every day whether we leave our apartment complex or not, and while doing so, I have made sure to give him ample amounts of praise for a job well-done. I’ve given corrections and guidance when he needs it. This increases his confidence, and in turn he feels pride in himself and works to be the best he can be.

If a dog can grasp this concept, and anyone who has ever watched one work knows it’s so, then why is it the humans of the world, have lost their work ethic.

Whether it’s for fun, or finance, volunteer or supervisory, those performing the task should do it with precision and pride.

Of course, it’s evident by what we all see and experience each day, this is no longer the case. The world, as they say, is moving on. I only hope I live through it to see the dawning of a day when we go back to the days when the power of precision, and Pride, were our true power.

Please do not mistake precision for perfection.

The Remember Lady Laya MoonWalker’s Mantra, “The world is not perfect. Neither must I be perfect.”

Living through this day has been like the turning of some wheel. Though the wheel turned at the fall Equinox I feel more transformed and at ease than anytime since the spring. Odd it may seem, with Mother Earth readying to sleep, and the days shortening with weather changes bound to be difficult to deal with at times as well. Yet that’s how I feel. I’m more tired than I realize from the summer just passed. For me, the summer is harsh. Extreme heat is exhausting for me. I despise humidity, anything passed 70 with winds 5 to 10 MPH and 30 percent humidity is miserable, and Chief Seeing Eye® Dog Blue agrees. Whatever the reason, I’m happy for the season.

Saturday, I had the joyous privilege of cleaning, cooking, and putting up corn on the cob. I love fresh corn on the cob and when we received a large bag-full of the stuff from the Second Harvest Food Bank delivery I couldn’t have been more pleased.

Standing at the sink shucking and scrubbing corn, then rinsing it in ice-cold water so the silks would fall the rest of the way off, my hands aching from the frigid water my heart warm with gratitude and love.

“Thanks, mom, for making me do this all those years ago. I didn’t know how fortunate I was.”

Later as the smell of corn boiling on the stove, and sausage and shredded chicken meatloaf paddies baking in the oven drifted through the steamy air With Blue bouncing and squeaking all over the floor, I knew even with all my trials I was still extremely fortunate to be who and where I was.

About Patty L. Fletcher

Patty L. Fletcher lives in Kingsport Tennessee where she works full time as a Writer with the goal of bridging the great chasm which separates the disAbled from the non-disAbled. She is Also a Social Media Marketing Assistant.

Follow her in Patty’s Worlds here.