Lesley S. King

We are all heroes living our own tragedy, until we wake up and realize we’re in a romantic comedy, with the Beloved as our lover.

As a travel writer, one of my duties has been to rate accommodations. Of course I have an ideal against which I measure all. These hotels or resorts possess a five-star ambiance. A room in such a place might have thick Persian rugs on maple floors, gold tile in the Jacuzzi bath and silk bed [...]

Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that crushed it.—Mark Twain I awaken from my first full night of sleep in weeks. Lemony sun shines in the window, and when I stand I feel a hint of the life force that faded during my two-week illness. In my spiritual practice my body [...]

The Light and Sound teachings, of which I am a student, instruct that we incarnate into every physical form in our journey to know our true God selves. This happens along an evolutionary continuum, and yet since time and space are an illusion, it occurs in the now. This is the basis for my poem. [...]

“One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing . . .”—Henry Miller

The beauty of the outer reflects the temple within.

The Divine dwells as much in the concrete and taxicabs as it does in the rivers, lakes and mountains. Grace is neither time nor place dependent. All we need is the right soundtrack. —from the movie Liberal Arts.

With a prompt from my publisher I open a document and read the first unfavorable review for my novel, The Baby Pact. It is inevitable. I have received a number of positive ones so I knew a negative one would likely come. After all, that is the dual way of the lower worlds. What surprises [...]

I walnut fail. I can pecanfident. I cashew all negativity. Al-mond my willful ways. I let others have their own piñons. I am chestnut going to let things get to me. I love myself even though I am acorny person. I must peanuts to think these will work. I’d better call on the help of [...]

Last year just a few days after I bought a Christmas tree for my mother, it died. Its needles dried to a frank crispness, its color turned a dull sage. It shed itself onto the carpet and transformed into Charlie Brown’s original tree. All because I had a Scrooge attitude. When I set out on [...]