Soaring Stories

Today is a rainy day in Brooktondale. My house, which I love, is really a birdhouse situated on top of a hill overlooking another higher hill, pond and trees. This morning it has rained the lover’s moves of precipitation- gentle, forceful, lazy but persistent. A fog is moving in and I am settling down for a day of stories and learning to play the harp. My dream, Stories with Spirit, keeps unfolding for me as I sift through the vision of bringing stories and music to terminally ill and chronically ill children. The healing arts practitioners use harp and voice to soothe and comfort the dying. How can I use harp, voice and stories to comfort dying and ill children. How can I create an organization that trains and certifies storytellers and musicians to do this around the country? This quiet almost silent day is a day to wonder.