Posted by: Sheila | January 23, 2009

On my own very best friend


As I even begin I reckon you already know that I am my own very best friend. No-one else understands me like I do and I don’t even do a great job. Sometimes for many reasons most associated with my fav subject ( the pace of life!) and my manic involvement in it I feel sad or stressed.

I used to hope my man or my friend could pick me up. Sure they can distract you for a few minutes but only you know what makes you truly happy. So I became my own best friend.

It is not as easy a job as it sounds. On my next birthday I have to find myself the perfect present, wrap it and leave it out for me. I promise to be surprised.

Then up in my bedroom I have a special container. In it I have the most beautiful gels, lotions, hankies, cards, scents and soaps waiting for me. I get the feeling that I will be mentioning this again. But anyway over the heated waterbed I have a shelf the length of the room covered in spiritual relaxing books and a hidden stash of chocolate. Beside the bed I have my scrapbook which holds my dreams and I can dip into it and visualise often. My angel daily meditations are under my pillow, and by the bed is a pretty hardback book in which I write my dreams and aspirations . I re–read them marking off what I have achieved and remind myself what has yet to come.

In this world I am surrounded by hope, love & lovely scents where I am safe, secure and loved by me.


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