๐“œ๐”‚ ๐“œ๐“ธ๐“ถ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฝ ๐“ž๐“ฏ ๐“–๐“ป๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“พ๐“ญ๐“ฎ - Saturday 12 July 2025

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I have been slowly moving from a mindset of just getting by to truly believing in abundance.

Though I did some serious rewiring already, I am starting to see how stuck I have been in that scarcity mindset.

Limiting myself for decades....

Because planning a future feels like a luxury when survival is the focus.

These posts are:

๐’ฏ๐‘œ ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น๐‘œ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’น๐’ถ๐“‚๐’ถ๐‘”๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐’น๐’พ๐’น ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‚๐“Ž๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“๐’ป ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ท๐‘’๐“๐’พ๐‘’๐’ป ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐’ถ๐’ท๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’ธ๐‘’.
๐’ฏ๐‘œ ๐’ท๐‘’ ๐‘”๐“‡๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐’ป๐“Š๐“ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐ผ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‹๐‘’.
๐’ฏ๐‘œ ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“ˆ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“‡๐’ธ๐’พ๐“‰๐“Ž ๐“‚๐’พ๐“ƒ๐’น๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“‰.
๐’ฏ๐‘œ ๐“‡๐‘’๐‘œ๐“…๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’น๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“…๐‘’๐“‡๐’ธ๐‘’๐“…๐“‰๐’พ๐‘œ๐“ƒ, ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‡๐‘’๐“‚๐‘’๐“‚๐’ท๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐ผ ๐“€๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“Œ ๐’ท๐‘’๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’.

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Today, being thankful has never been easier.
After a month of temperatures above 32 degrees, today was so good.

July and August are the months I like to fast forward each year, but I deal with them because the other 10 months in Andalusia make it worth the suffering.

But this morning I walked into the living room and it felt so fresh...like pure oxygen in the face.

It has been so long that I enjoyed my morning coffee without thinking about when the heat would make me go inside, but this morning the fresh breath of air kept me seated.

Never in July did I sit on my balcony at 14:30 and enjoy it like I did today.

This day allows me to reset,and remember how wonderful September will be.

Sometimes happiness is in little things, like 7 degrees Celsius.


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Thank you for making it this far....for those who know me...or better, think they know me, this might have been a WTF moment.

For me, this is a WTF journey, but I finally know my destiny: Avalon.

Around 1200 AD, Geoffrey of Monmouth wrote that King Arthur was taken on a boat to Avalon by โ€œnine sisters,โ€ the eldest being Morgan le Fay.

Avalon, where the mists of the worlds are thin and time no longer reigns.

โ€œThe king was carried to the isle of Avalon to be healed of his wounds.โ€

According to legend, he did not return from Avalon, but he is prophesied to do so: Arthur is the "once and future king."

Ever since, poets and dreamers have chased that myth. I am a poet, a dreamer, a mystic, and a magician.

I will not chase the myth, I will recreate it just as she meant it to be.

Because over all these centuries, Avalon has grown, the word itself holds more power than the eyes of time can see.

The ancient Celtic legend, a sacred island of healing and immortality, shrouded in fog and guarded by priestesses.

In a quiet English village in 1897, a young writer named T.E. Wilburn sat beneath an old oak and scribbled in his journal:

โ€œAvalon is not merely a place, it is the ache of the soul that remembers something purer than this world can offer.โ€

That line would later appear in his forgotten book Through the Mists, and inspire the chorus of a 1974 folk song by Rowan Shade:

โ€œSail away, sail away / To the isle where kings still breathe / Avalon, oh Avalon / My heart you never leave.โ€

To some, Avalon is paradise. To others, a metaphor for death, it might be both.

Even today, Avalon appears as a vivid symbol of hope after ruin, of wholeness beyond despair.

Avalon is more than a story.

Avalon is a compass for lost souls, pointing somewhere beyond the chaos of the world, to recovery, to rebirth, and reset.

And like Arthur, those willing will all encounter the boat to take them there.



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