Amazing What We Know That We Don’t Know We Know

I had a dream last night about the leather portfolio I bought with some of the money my mom left me. I had searched high and low for the perfect 3-ring binder and ordered one from Rustico. When it came, I fell in love with its soft brown cover and wide openness. I had known that I really wanted it but didn’t know what to use it for . . . memories; keepsakes; recipes; journal? It wasn’t clear, so until clarity came, I put it in the top drawer of my mom’s coffee table. That’s where it has been for 5 months . . . until the dream.

The dream felt like mom’s gentle nudge to use the binder every day. The vision was complete with lined white paper and unlined cream-colored paper for writing and drawing. When I opened the drawer, I was surprised to find a stack of both kinds of paper, already hole-punched and ready. How did that happen? Magic or did I prepare them when I got the binder? Hmmm. I don’t remember buying or punching holes in the cream-colored paper. It’s amazing what we know that we don’t know we know.

The large leather cover spreads out across my lap ready for words of life. Here they are . . . the first words written within its comfort. Thank you for reading.

Here to hear you and to help you hear yourSelf,

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