Semi-Daily Scribbles

It was always the way with Margot. She'd leave notes on desks, or envelopes in letterboxes, with tiny bits of wisdom and warnings to keep us in check. The last message Margot sent me was typed on the back of a grocery list. She needed many things on that particular shopping day. But the typewritten words were what grabbed my attention, and they have never let go.

Gabriela, dear:

Each story you create leaves an indelible mark on your soul. All the signals and signs which litter the universe point in the direction you were least likely to go. Don't try and tell me you've never noticed. Separation doesn’t exist when you place your faith in dreams. By the simple act of allowing a thought to enter your head, you’ve opened the way for chance and probability to walk hand-in-hand toward the horizon.