Not sure what it means, but I’ve frequently thought of the stars as my friends. Ever since I was a teenager. I’d talk to the stars and they would talk to me.

It was with those sparkly star memories that I communed a little with my old friends tonight. I stepped out for air as I often do, and the sky spread out above me in welcome.

It’s been cloudy a lot, and we haven’t seen much of each other lately. At The Uncles’ place, we live on the side of a hill, and all of the Portland city lights stretch off into the distance, with black spiky tree shapes in the foreground, and a glittery star canopy above.

One of them winked at me and I looked up and saw a constellation of a bow, made just for me. It felt like a gift had been wrapped, and somehow I was in the right frame of mind to recognize and accept it with gratitude.

I said a little prayer, and pulled the Great Spirit and the Star Spirits and deep breaths of the Fresh Air Spirit into me and asked that please, please let things work out as they should. Let me play the role I am supposed to play.

At the end of another worrisome day, with my life all shaken askew once more, it was so healthy to smile and feel loved and to ask for divine guidance.

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