A Month of Prompts

Amanda, of MagnoliaYogaBr , sent out her first newsletter with monthly prompts in quite a few years. I’m so excited!!!

Yesterday the prompt was “Perfect Day”. And it was! Mornings have taken on a routine, starting with feeding the cat, then then dogs, and now the crows and the birds. The crows came back to the neighborhood on the 30th (timing), and they call out when they come in the mornings, waking me and starting my day.

Usually we babysit on Thursday, but didn’t yesterday, so I was able to sit outside and read…something I haven’t done almost all summer because of the heat. I’m just beginning “Shadow of Night” by Deborah Harkness, and I’m loving this series!! History, witches, vampires, daemons…it’s got it all.

Today’s prompt is “Take Steps”. Doing these prompts here is a big step. I’ve fallen out of the habit of writing, and my domain name needs to be renewed sometime this month, so responses (and clients) will give me a reading and tell me whether to keep it all or let it go.

Do you want to join along? The link to sign up for the newsletter is in Amanda’s bio!

With hope,


©Pip Miller – November 2018

ETS: I forgot to add the hashtags she uses! #cultivatewellness #writewellness


#writealm Day 12 (I’m behind again)…

The end of the month will make 6 months since our dogs disappeared into thin air, and lately we’ve been thinking about them a lot.

1008111321abWhen we first got Gia, she was only 7 weeks or so old, and Zoey became her stand-in mom. They were inseperable.


Gia and Zoey As Gia grew, she quickly became not only a completely different color (she started out with pure German Shepherd coloring!), but taller than her ‘mom’. She was the funniest dog, too: Zoey would be running around the backyard, barking wildly at something, and Gia would just lay in the middle of the yard watching her, not barking at all. She only barked when she was playing with either Zoey or with the cat.


IMG_0547267Every day our new puppies do something that brings back a memory of what Zoey or Gia did – especially since the oldest sounds and acts so much like Zoey, and it always makes us sad. We hope, more than anything, that whomever has them is treating them well and loves them. Because we still miss them so much and want them to come home.

©Pip Miller – November 2014


#writealm Day 11

picons13Conversations, ones that used to meet in the middle are now discordant;

no common ground, no understanding, no connection.

Difficulties arise as feelings are hurt, emotions are trampled, and boundaries are pushed.

How does one get from here to the place of peace and togetherness that came before?

©Pip Miller – November 2014

Catching Up

#writealm 8-10

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I’ve fallen behind due to work eclipsing my online time, but in this brief moment of a still house before Himself gets out of the shower and the t.v. goes on, I’m taking the time to do what brings me pleasure: writing in my blog and checking in on Twitter.

How’s that for a catch-up in 2 minutes or less? 😉

And now, to prepare for the day.

©Pip Miller – November 2014



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This time of year, it would be obvious to go with fallen leaves when writing about today’s prompt, but that’s not where I my mind took me. Instead it took me into cracks…the one I fall into every year. The one that pop up between the summer’s busyness, and winter’s homage to hibernation. Fall is that wonderful crack in between where one day I’m full of energy to tackle my messy house, the next all I want to do is sit and read for hours and hours. There really never seems to be a middle ground.

book fortressIt’s almost as if on some level my body knows it’s time to finish up all those chores and projects I’ve half-heartedly tackled because once winter sets in, it’s mostly going to be reading time. No doubt about it. I turn into one of those people who are ready for bed the moment the sun sets – which makes things interesting at work. 😉 At home, though, it’s very easy to feel that what because Himself thinks he’s a vampire and removes light bulbs from lamps and overhead lights, keeps the curtains and blinds almost closed (in summer, too), and prefers candle light. So when that sun sets, yep, it’s time for bed. Which, of course, we don’t actually do because it’s only 4 o’clock, but that urge is there!

This time of falling into the crack between seasons is such a wonderful, beautiful time, and each year I enjoy spending my time there more and more. Seems I’m a crack sort of person. 😉

©Pip Miller – November 2014


#writealm Day 6

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What’s your favorite color? Mine is blue. But not just any blue, no. Cobalt blue. There’s something about the richness of that shade that draws me to it every time. I have little rice bowls that are white with cobalt blue flowers, I had a set of cobalt blue wine glasses before they all broke, my favorite velvet dress is that shade, and my favorite bowl and saucer are white with flowers and trim in this gorgeous color…

These dishes (which are actually darker than they look); the one in the back I’ve had for ages, the blue mug is relatively new, and I just piced up the soup bowl at the Dollar Tree for, yes, one dollar. Score! 🙂

Light blue doesn’t do it for me, and it’s a color I rarely wear. Jewel tones, that’s what they are called…jewel tones are like the flame to my moth.

What color is your flame?

©Pip Miller – November 2014

Heart Comes Loose

#writealm Day 5. 🙂


yellow37This one has me stuck for most of the morning, and then I did a distance healing session and it came to me: no matter what my emotions are when I sit down to send light, it is impossible for me to dwell on them. Yes, my thoughts wander and I may plan dinner or my next blog post, or wonder where that lost receipt is, but every single time my thoughts are brought back to the tingling in my hands and the knowledge that thousands of miles away there is someone feeling the result of that tingling. It’s strength varies with each sending; sometimes it’s a light tingle, sometimes it’s pins-and-needles, sometimes my hands feel like they’re on fire. I never know what will happen during each session, and no matter what is going on in my life, my heart is consistently set loose – floating along a wavelength of peace and love winding it’s way to the recipient.

It’s the best “job” ever. 🙂

©Pip Miller – November 2014



#writealm Day 4. 🙂

Singing tree

This is my neighbor’s magical, singing tree. It harmonizes with the wind blowing through its soft needles, and it sings to me of somewhere far from our high desert home in the southwest; somewhere it has never been, but the wind has. It’s song is the song of the sea, evoking in me memories of beaches on the cold north Atlantic…memories of…

r GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons

…waves lapping at the sand, moving up the shore in response to the pull of the moon, water so cold that you have to dunk yourself and stay submerged from the neck down until your body is numb and then you can swim for hours, sand so hot you wished you’d tied flip-flops to your bathing suit because it’s not possible to run fast enough or tip-toe lightly enough to escape it’s burning touch…


The beach, a rainbow of bathing suits, towels, umbrellas, chairs, ice chests (they call them cool chests here in the sw), and radios, all tuned to different stations. Some are rudely blaring, others are just loud enough for the immediate listeners. The smell of hot dogs bought from the vendor on the street above, seagulls circling while on the lookout for abandoned or dropped food, children shouting with joy and laughter – or crying from sheer exhaustion, parents calling out in warning to be careful, and the lifeguard’s whistle jolting us out of our sun-drenched stupor.

The sun, oh the sun…soaking into us, tanning – or burning – our skin as it passes through, melting our bones into such sweet lethargy, filling us with heat so strong that we fear we will melt into the sand, or, heaven forbid, spontaneously combust.

And underneath it all, this magical, wonderful tree sings to me the song that is just at the edge of my hearing at all times even though I now live so far from its source; it’s the deep lullaby of Mama Yemaya. Mother Ocean, in all her glory, calls to me, beckoning me home, soothing me with her message of peace, compassion…and love.


©Pip Miller – November 2014