UPDATE: The winner is…Beckie!
*~*~*

©Diana Cosby 2020

Cooper’s Hawk

Great Blue Heron

Great Egret

I love taking nature photos, it’s an enjoyable pastime, one that refills my muse.  Today I’d like to share some of my favorite photos that I’ve taken this year.  I hope you enjoy.

As I walk through the woods or along the marsh it’s always wonderful to come across deer. They’re beautiful and have such an amazing presence.

On rare occasions, I see foxes, which makes when I do see them, extra special.  This spring I had the honor of seeing a pair of foxes with their kit.

Baltimore Oriole

Bluebird

Cardinal

There is such a huge variety of birds where I live, I never know what I’m going to see.

Turkey

Turkey Vulture

Ruddy Turnstone

This year was the first time I saw a turkey in the wild and was able to get a photo.  A few weeks ago, a Turkey Vulture land in a tree near me.  They’re huge and this one had about a six-foot wingspan.  In addition to seeing my first ever Ruddy Turnstone, I had to share at least one photo of bees. 🙂

Living near the ocean, in the salt air, the sunrises are gorgeous.  What is your favorite nature memory of 2020?

Contest

ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my guest blog post about, ‘My Favorite Inspiration from Nature Photos of 2020,’ on Delilah’s blog between 18 December 2020 – 27 December 2020.  The winner will receive a mug.

About the Author

A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series have been translated into five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.

After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers series and The Oath Trilogy, she released the bestselling The Forbidden Series.

Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.

Diana Cosby, International Best-Selling Author
www.dianacosby.com
The Oath Trilogy
MacGruder Brother Series
The Forbidden Series

A girl goes into the forest in search of a cannibal witch and comes out with a skull lantern full of magic coals.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.

If you haven’t, don’t feel bad about it. Popular culture has been so thoroughly saturated with Disney-goggled fairytales, that anything outside the scope of televised fables naturally flies under the radar. Naomi Novik and Katherine Arden, among other fantasy writers, have been doing magnificent work bringing forth Slavic and Russian-influenced tales to the mainstream book market, but so much remains unexplored.

Especially within the realms of Romance and Erotica genres. Nobody likes a raunchy adaptation of Beauty and the Beast better than I do. But Little Red Riding Hood has been ridden by the Big Bad Wolf so many times, no wonder the poor dear can’t find her way to her Grandmother’s house.  I’m not saying these trusty, good old fairytales should be forsaken, gods forbid. But while Cinderella and Hansel and Gretel continue to fuel fine taboo tales, why not take a peek at another pantheon of fairytale characters?

There are damsels, there is distress, and sometimes they are coupled, but often in unexpected ways that make you raise your brow, thoroughly intrigued. (I’m looking at you, Marya Morevna! Who has the most powerful warlock in Russian folklore locked up and chained in one of their rooms? And why? I have so many questions!)

There are Bird-Princes, and Grey Wolves, and Baba Yagas, and clever, tough heroines that deserve a chance to shine.

I hope I’m doing my (small) part in the short story, “Vasilisa and the Tale of Tales,” published in the collaborative project Perfect Potions: An Anthology.

Interested in a sneak peek of “Vasilia and the Tale of Tales”? I’ve got you covered:

Suddenly, Lisa felt a chill run down her spine. Leaves rustled above their heads and she slapped a hand over John’s mouth to keep him quiet. But she could feel him tense as well, his body preparing for a fight, his heartbeat receding into a quiet drum. It’s been three years, but she was still attuned to the slightest shift of his body.

She tried not to think about his body.

The air was full of a new smell – feral fur, sweat, the scent of death, and endings. Softly, a rumble rolled through the treetops. Thunder, Lisa thought at first, but something was off. It was alive.

A purr.

And the sound of chafing chains.

“Carrion-eater,” John hissed.

“Skoromokh,” she whispered, her eyes trying to pierce the dark foliage above her.

She had never met one in person. Supposedly, one — or many — have visited her mother when Lisa and her sister were born. But mother never spoke of that.

All Lisa knew was common knowledge — they took many shapes, had sharp teeth and a silver tongue, and an uncanny tendency to appear when tales were about to start or end. They fed off tributes offered by hopeful or fearful parents, or, if no tribute was offered, on the dead bodies left in the wake of the Tale. They were the Order of Skoromokh, the Tale-tellers, the Witnesses. They took no sides but carried the Tales to the end.

The air hummed with static electricity, raising the small hairs on the back of her neck on end.

“I prefer Scholar Cat,” said a dark voice.

The voice was followed by the appearance of two rows of sharp glistening teeth stretched into an impossibly wide grin. Then, out of the darkness slowly emerged an enormous striped body of a feline. It sprawled along a branch high up in the tree, a golden chain looping from its neck all the way around the tree trunk.

“What are you doing here?” John asked.

The Cat smiled unpleasantly but said nothing.

Lisa felt her heart tighten in her chest. There were no tributes to feed it here. But soon, there will be dead bodies aplenty. “Our tale is coming to an end,” she said softly.

The Cat’s smile widened further, and she grew nauseated. She looked at John, finding him watching her, his face pale but his eyes steady. He tore his eyes from hers and looked up at the creature.

“It’s not over yet,” he stated.

The Cat cackled, standing up and stretching sluggishly, its body rippling with grace. Finally, with a flick of its tail, it slipped along the branch further into the darkness.

Lisa swallowed hard, apprehension creeping into her heart. She tried to shove it down, looking at John in hopes of reclaiming the anger that’s been driving her for the past years. Instead, she saw something dark in his own eyes, familiar and unnerving. She looked away, squeezing her eyes shut. Not now.

“Was this what we were supposed to find? The Carrion-eater?”

She shook her head, looking down at the stalling app on the screen. “I don’t know.” She looked up at the tree, but there was no trace of the sinister feline. His chains, however, were still in place, spiraled around the trunk and from hanging from the higher branches. Lisa frowned.

“Yeah,” John murmured. “Weird.” He took a step forward, as if he would go around the enormous tree, to follow the Skoromokh.

Lisa instinctively jerked on the chain, pulling him back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He stumbled for the umpteenth time and then righted himself. When he turned to her, it was obvious he had had enough. She saw him plant his feet apart, and when he pulled on the chain, she realized she’d made a mistake. She tried to pull back, to keep her footing, but he was stronger than her, and no magic chains undid that. He pulled her slowly, methodically, watching her.

Something dark coiled in the pit of her stomach, dissolving into a burst of butterflies. She was already too close, but he gave one final yank on the chain and caught her deftly, pressing her body to his with an arm around her waist. His blue eyes were midnight black, full of promises made, full of purpose, and the intoxicating nightshade of desire.

When he spoke, his voice was rough and low and reached out into the dormant nooks of her heart with practiced ease. “Where can I run from you, Lisa?”

*~*~*

Don’t forget to get your copy of Perfect Potions: An Anthology, available on Kindle and in paperback.

Together with 14 other writers, we explore potions in all their glory, and I dive headfirst into the world of Russian folktales. The anthology may not be erotic, but it’s chock full of romance of the finest kind, guaranteed to make your heart flutter. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet your new favorite author among the line-up?

Come follow me. I’m a hoot!

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The holidays are here, and despite the rocky ride of 2020, I am so very thankful for my abundance of blessings and love that fill my life. One of my greatest blessings in 2020, besides my loved ones and their continued health and happiness, has been embarking on my writing adventure. Many thanks to Delilah Devlin for accepting my story into her anthology and letting me drop in here! It has given me a confidence boost to chase this crazy author dream!

My favorite part of writing is the process. It’s fun to read back over what I wrote and think, “Damn, girl. That’s not bad!” Of course, just as often, I reread something and shake my head as I hold down the delete button. But more than the final words on the page, I love dreaming and scheming about stories and the twists and turns of the characters. It’s a testament to just how big a nerd I am that I enjoy immersing myself in the world of my characters. I seriously prefer hanging out with my imaginary friends more than real people…. Hmmm…. I probably should talk to someone about that! Anyway, moving on. 😊

I also enjoy learning about new subjects and researching facts. So many times, I remind myself that I was just supposed to check what year the typewriter was invented to make sure it fits in the story, not research the entire history of typewriters! I’m like Alice in Wonderland on the internet. So many rabbit holes! A writer friend of mine posted this the other day, and it’s so true! My internet browsing history would raise an eyebrow or two, and my Facebook feed looks like it belongs to someone with multiple personalities.

I find inspiration in many different places. For my latest story, it came to me from an old folk tune. I was writing a story about pirates for an upcoming anthology, but it just wasn’t flowing well. So, I turned on some music (Yes, I listen to folk music—nerd, remember??) and heard a song called “Maid on the Shore.” It’s about a woman who lived alone on an island, walking the beaches. A captain of a sailing ship saw her and ordered her brought to him. Once onboard, she sang the sailors to sleep, stole their treasure, and rowed back to her island. It caught my attention, and down the rabbit hole I went, wondering about this siren’s story. She was clearly different than Odysseus’ sirens. It didn’t take long for her tale to unfold in my mind, and I knew I had to tell her story.

That’s the part of writing that is just so freaking awesome! A song I had heard many times before caught me at the right moment, planted a seed in my imagination, and BAM—storytime, here we come!

Under the Sea

Here’s a snippet from my story, “Before Words, There was Song,” part of the Under the Sea anthology releasing Jan 31, 2021!

“Well, now, Daughter of the Sea,” Manannan said, pulling Ciara’s attention to him. “It is time for you to join your sisters.”

He reached his hand down in invitation, and Ciara simply stared at him. Confusion and questions overwhelmed her. Just hours ago, she had been chasing Dougan and dreaming of a life in a quiet fishing village. Now, here she sat with Manannan mac Lir talking to her in the middle of the ocean. It was beyond belief.

The God of the Sea waited patiently and gently prompted, “I’ll answer all your questions on the way. Take my hand, Daughter, and let our journey begin.”

Ciara put her hand in his, and he pulled her up in front of him on Enbarr’s massive back. The horse surged forward, and faster than the wind, they began to run across the water.

Ciara looked over her shoulder toward the shore she could no longer see but was all she had ever known. The wind whipped her hair around her face. She buried her hands in Enbarr’s silky mane and asked the question her whirling thoughts kept coming back to.

“Who am I?”

Manannan slowed Enbarr to a gentler pace.

“Let me tell you a story. Eons ago, the Great Goddess, Gaia, released from her womb a storm into the sea. It contained all the songs of the earth. It swirled and danced through the waters of the word, leaving behind magic and life. The gods still walked the land of Erin at that time, and we danced in joy as the music poured forth. The songs were too beautiful to let fade into oblivion. We gathered in council to find a way to capture the melodies.

Since they were born of the sea, the gods asked me to create something to hold the music. I crafted a creature from the spray of the sea, the cry of the bird, the call of the whale, and the beauty of the reef. She rose from the sea, and with the ocean’s infinity and the fluidity of water, she captured all the melodies of the world. I named her Eulah, Gem of the Sea, and she was the first Siren. Over the centuries, the sea has brought forth more melodies and more sirens, but one had not been born for a long, long time.

Fifteen years ago, a great storm full of fury and darkness swelled from the depths. Terrible and vicious, the sea raged, and the men and women of Erin begged me to calm it. I felt their terror as the towering waves bore down on the shore. The wind screamed, and Gaia shook beneath their feet, expressing her displeasure at the folly and short memory of man. The Children of Erin had turned their faces from her, distracted by the new god and his prophets and priests. Her anger called forth the storm to punish them, but I could not let her destroy my faithful people, even though there were far fewer who called my name than in times past.

I rode out in the blackest night I have ever seen. The storm pulled at me, seething with hurt and vengeance. Enbarr and I plunged into the tempest, so strong it threatened to pull the powerful Enbarr beneath its roiling fury. I called to wind and water, who knew my command, but they couldn’t hear me over their roaring. Through the tumult, the faintest of melodies played, new and unheard. At that moment, I knew how to calm the sea and save the Children of Erin.

I gathered sea spray and added the sea bird’s cry, the call of the giants of deep, and all the reef’s beauty. The voices of the Children of Erin intermingled with the melody of nature. The first wail of a babe, the tears of a maiden, the wisdom of an old man, and the last breath of a crone joined in accompaniment. With ancient magic, I created the last siren, capturing the storm’s song and the melodies of man.

The magic of the world had changed over the centuries. The gods no longer walked among men. This siren did not come forth as a goddess fully formed and radiant of song and beauty. She came to me as a babe in arms. As I looked at the tiny creature whose cry held a heartbreaking melody, I knew she would be different than her sisters. I brought Muirin, my most cherished selkie, to land to raise the child with the instructions to return her to the sea when her song was ready to be sung.”

Manannan fell silent. Ciara’s mind fit the pieces together. She was a siren, made by the hands of a god. The Great Goddess created the melodies that coursed through her blood. She held within her the song of death, fury, and destruction.

Ciara’s adventure is just beginning!

Be sure to preorder your copy of Under the Sea to find out how her song ends and enjoy several other stories of the deep!

https://www.facebook.com/A-C-Dawn-2317750851796803

amazon.com/author/acdawn

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to bake. And not just simple sugar cookies. My dream was to run a bakery or maybe manage a fancy restaurant. I spent my childhood learning everything I could from a master chef. I was definitely lucky, at least in that regard. But let me back up…

My mother and I lived in this gorgeous manor when I was a child, but we weren’t the homeowners. Not even close. Mom was a maid, and I was the maid’s daughter who always snuck into the kitchen to “help” the moody head chef, Pascal Caron. After a while, Chef Caron realized I seriously wanted to learn how to cook and bake, and I wasn’t just there to annoy him. He took me under his wing, and my eyes opened to the world of culinary and artsy dishes.

Then I grew up. After my secret boyfriend dumped me and left me pregnant when I was eighteen, I learned quickly that life wasn’t fair and my dreams had to go on hold.

For the next ten years, I worked dead-end waitressing jobs with no end in sight, but I never stopped whipping up fantastical creations in my meager kitchen. I make everything from scratch, and I use graham cracker crusts for my shells. What do I make? Well, let’s see…cheesecake, doughnuts, muffins, tarts, pies, cakes, brownies, and more. Hmm, I would love something chocolatey right now. Sorry, but I skipped lunch and my belly is growling. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, your mouth will water from one taste of any of my desserts—I guarantee it. I’m not normally an over-confident person, but I know I rock in the kitchen.

Mom, my daughter Lacey, and my best friend, Shana, are the best! They’re so supportive. Then there’s Jeremiah—better known as Jim. He’s unlike any man I’ve ever met. He’s so sweet and sexy, and more than determined to fulfill my dreams of opening a bakery. How could I have lucked out with him?

Now, I’m off to bake Jeremiah and Lacey a yummy surprise. He loves anything with blueberries in it, so we’re having a torte for dessert tonight. But don’t tell him, okay? First things first, though, I need to make a sandwich or I might just eat the dessert all by myself. It’s been known to happen, and yet I complain about my waistline. *sigh* Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

Arresting Jeremiah

Injured Parole Officer Jeremiah “Jim” Borden never expected Calista Barlow, the sassy blonde waitress he’s craved for months, to ring his doorbell. She slips into his heart—and his bed—but he’s obsessed with a gangland investigation that threatens his career and maybe even his life.

Calista doesn’t trust easily, not with a daughter to protect and the stalker who keeps calling her. After her violent ex-boyfriend returns, she finds solace in Jim’s arms.

Jim may have to forego his need for answers to protect the ready-made family he adores, but how will he and Calista escape an unseen enemy that is always one step ahead of them?

Excerpt from Arresting Jeremiah…

Calista entered her bedroom and her mouth dropped open. Oh my God.

Her date reclined on her bed as though he starred in a photoshoot. Candlelight flickered across him. The sultry gleam in his eyes arrested her, holding her captive. His sexy smile weakened her knees. None of her past lovers rocked a pair of classic black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt like he did. His chest hair, a few shades darker than the locks on his head, poked from the parted fabric and teased her.

How would that thick hair feel against her nipples? Soft? Coarse? Just right?

Jim was spread out for her pleasure like a Christmas present. She wanted to unwrap him, layer by layer. Maybe he should unwrap himself, so she could enjoy the show.

Her gaze traveled the length of his body to the bulge pressed against his zipper. Yum! He’s hard already. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

“Stare all you want, but it’s more fun to touch.” He patted his thigh, the invitation clear.

“I’m tempted.” She cocked her hip to one side. “I guess the blueberry clafoutis can wait, but you’re a little presumptuous to think this is how the night would end.”

Then again, she did mention having breakfast together. What did she expect him to think?

“End? Honey, we’re just getting started.”

She laughed, grasped the hem of her blouse, and pulled it over her head. Her favorite perfume scented the room, and she picked up the bottle. “You like?”

“Hell, yeah. A lot.”

She sprayed a few drops on her fingers, caressed the pulse at the base of her throat, and dragged her touch down between her breasts. His guttural growl teased across her nerve endings, shooting rockets through her belly. She shimmied her skirt down her hips and kicked aside her heels. A red satin bra and panty set sheathed her body. She locked her hands together behind her back before involuntarily covering her breasts and stomach.

“Damn, look at you. Come here, Calista.”

Add to Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55223686-arresting-jeremiah
Check it out on BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/arresting-jeremiah-arresting-onyx-book-2-by-amber-daulton

Purchase Links
Amazon – https://amzn.to/32vAlqu
Barnes and Noble – https://bit.ly/2E4eJYO
Apple – https://apple.co/35BOuo1
Universal link – https://books2read.com/u/mVKvMP

About the Author

Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press, Books to Go Now, and Daulton Publishing, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.

She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.

Social Media Links
Website – https://amberdaulton.wordpress.com/
Facebook Author Page – https://www.facebook.com/amber.daulton.author
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AmberDaulton1
Street Team – https://www.facebook.com/groups/572204316296198/
Pinterest – https://pinterest.com/amberdaulton5/
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6624921.Amber_Daulton
Amazon Author Page – https://amzn.to/14JoZff
Book Bub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/amber-daulton
Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/amberdaultonauthor1/
LinkedIn – https://www.linkedin.com/pub/amber-daulton/87/538/368
The Wild Rose Press – https://www.thewildrosepress.com/authors/amber-daulton

Imagine a couple. A mutual friend introduced them to each other at a large social gathering. Four months later, the couple got engaged and then married about ten months after that. What are your expectations about the couple? Are they in their twenties? Thirties? Forties? Fifties? Or even older?

While the scenario above is the story of my husband and me when we met thirty-five years ago at 25 and 21 years old, couldn’t the couple be any of those ages???

For many of the years I’ve read romance, the main characters have been almost entirely in their early to mid-twenties and rarely pushing thirty, but that doesn’t necessarily reflect today’s younger or older generations and society in general anymore. Many millennials are waiting until their thirties and closing in on forty to marry, choosing to focus on their careers and being financially stable. Some choose not to marry at all.

What about Gen X-ers and Baby Boomers? Although people of these generations often married in their late teens and early twenties, I personally know a large number who have divorced, been widowed, or haven’t married—either by choice and because they haven’t found the right person. However, I’m quite certain most of them haven’t given up on love.

In recent years, seasoned/later-in-life/mature characters have begun to appear more in romance, especially among indie-published authors. Blending families, shared parenting, aging parents, and similar issues creates complex conflicts, bringing new challenges to more experienced characters.

Love at any age is still love.

The Homegrown Café Book Club

My new romcom novella series brings some of those stories to life, along with adding another less common element in romance—the older woman/younger man trope. Are you thinking cougars? Think again!

The women of The Homegrown Café Book Club are over 40, single, and loving it. Fate, however, has a different plan with a younger man for every last one of them.

Makin’ Bacon (The Homegrown Café Book Club 1) Available now!

Heroine is 42; hero is 35.

Divorcée Tate Madison wasted fifteen years of her life with a liar and a cheat. Now she’s returned to her hometown to open The Homegrown Café, find a sperm donor, and spend time with her family and new friends. Encouraged by her fellow middle-aged book-club buddies, she begs a favor from her younger brother’s best friend—father the child her ex-husband denied her. Complications abound when she discovers she’s attracted to the man who wasn’t supposed to be more than an anonymous profile at the clinic.

Pig farmer Jim Cochon knows all about in-vitro fertilization, but he’d rather do things the old-fashioned way with the irresistible redhead he’s wanted to marry since he was five. Too bad she refuses his proposal the morning after their attempt to make a baby. He’ll have to convince her second chances are worth taking when happily-ever-after is at stake.

https://books2read.com/makin-bacon

*~*~*~*

The Farmer Takes a Husband (The Homegrown Café Book Club 2) Available now!

Heroine is 47; hero is 39.

Organic farmer Riley Fenniman is happily single at forty-seven and refuses to acknowledge an attraction to her younger accountant, let alone surrender to it. Unfortunately, a legal catch in her farm’s ownership and a health scare give her no choice in the matter. The women of The Homegrown Café Book Club have the perfect plan to ensure Riley’s cousin can’t get his greedy paws on her legacy, but it includes a husband and two pubescent girls.

CPA Deacon Jeffries has carried a torch for his favorite client for over a year, but she would probably sooner light him with it than return his affection. She makes an offer he can’t refuse to save her farm, one that makes his wish come true and gives his daughters the mother they need—except for lessons in dropping f-bombs. When the secret she’s keeping reveals itself, he’ll have to choose between self-preservation and love.

https://books2read.com/the-farmer-takes-a-husband

*~*~*~*

The Butcher and the Baker (The Homegrown Café Book Club 3) New release!

Heroine is 43; hero is 37.

After six broken engagements, butcher Petra Lochsley wants nothing to do with men and romance. Her hobbies include throwing axes, discussing books and having raunchy conversations with her middle-aged friends, and eating the occasional Boston cream doughnut—when the flirtatious baker doesn’t insist she prostitute herself for the decadent pleasure. One game of tongue hockey is enough with the guy she used to babysit. So what if he’s hot and is a good kisser?

Baker Auggie Hofmeier didn’t mean fall in love with or accidentally marry the butcher, but his heart seems to know what it’s doing. Besides, his new wife invited him home for a wedding night and more, that is, until the conniving interference by The Candlestick Maker, the old man who owns the shop he and Pet both want to buy, threatens their happily-ever-after. What’s a knave to do?

https://books2read.com/the-butcher-and-the-baker

*~*~*~*

When Harry Met Wally (The Homegrown Café Book Club 4) Coming soon!

Heroine is 50; hero is 40.

And Baby Makes 2½ (The Homegrown Café Book Club 5) Coming soon!

Heroine is 45; hero is 38.

*~*~*~*

Mellanie Szereto
Website: https://www.mellanieszereto.com
Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/mellanieszereto
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormellanieszereto
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/mellanieszereto
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mellanie-szereto
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/mellanie_szereto

UPDATE: The winners are…ALL 13 commenters!
*~*~*

Gingerbear Christmas

Contest

A big Thank You to Delilah for the opportunity to write a guest blog!

I write about spirituality – some of it deeply traditional and some of it in the practical context of everyday life. Since we’re in the season of Thanksgiving, I wanted to share a story about GRATITUDE and how this simple practice worked some serious magic in my life.

George Lucas – the creator of Star Wars – referred to professor and spiritual guru Joseph Campbell as his “Yoda”. Campbell remains a favorite among the intellectual literati in spiritual circles, and his best-known one-liner is probably this one: “follow your bliss”.

This mantra sounds great when we’re stuck in a miserable place, but the truth about how it works is a bit more nuanced. Let’s start with the full quote by Campbell:

“Follow your bliss, and the Universe will open doors where there were only walls”.

There is perhaps no better context for this quote than when we seem to be stuck in a miserable job.

“That’s it!” we tell ourselves. “I need to get out of this awful place and do something that brings me joy – I’m going to follow my bliss!“

I know a number of people who have left a job to “follow their bliss” only to find themselves in a place of regret. I have learned that it’s a bit more complicated than just doing what feels good, which is – unfortunately – how Campbell’s quote is often interpreted.

Like most spiritual wisdom, the statement is at the same time complex and simple. To illustrate what I mean, I’ll share my experience with the concept.

A few years back, I left a position with a tech start-up to go into a much more traditional position in a government agency. I took a pay cut, went from working at home to driving into an office 5-days a week, and turned in the corporate Gold card and business class travel options. Some people thought I was crazy, but I had my reasons, and knew it was the right thing to do.

About a year and a half into this position, I was miserable with a capital M. The culture was old school bureaucracy, and there were many long-time employees whose favorite game was creating conflict. Many days it felt like the Hatfield & McCoy feud, and it was the place where I learned what the term “gaslighting” meant because I experienced it almost daily.

I was ready to admit that this career move had been a HUGE mistake and began to make plans to find a new position – ANY position away from these mean and spiteful people…except it wasn’t that simple.

One of the reasons I had come to this organization was to capitalize on my military time, and I had planned to at least stay long enough to secure my pension. Things had gotten so bad that I wasn’t sure I could even do that; but before I walked away, I decided to apply some of the spiritual tools I was writing about and teaching to others. If those didn’t work, another job was always an option.

In the darkest days, I found very little to appreciate, but I kept looking and doing my spiritual work. Finally, I settled on the fact that the store on the installation had fresh, cut-up fruit available every day. I was working on eating healthier and this little treat was a $2.17 way for me to stay on track – and it didn’t require me to do any food prep or remember to grab something from my fridge on the way out the door.

Each day on my break I looked forward to the strawberries, cantaloupe or grapes that I would find in the store and I focused my appreciation on this small piece of sanity during the workweek.

Soon after shifting my focus to appreciating the fruit, I realized that the culture – while still leaving a lot to be desired – at least encouraged people to walk at work. The campus is a lovely, suburban one where walking in decent weather is not only feasible but pleasant.

I kept my focus on being grateful for these 2 things, not letting myself descend into the misery that seemed to be all around me. I also discovered that the commute, while aggravating at times, was perfect for listening to audiobooks. Another plus!

My mood began to soften, and I decided one day to make a list of the people at this job who were positive additions to the experience, and I quickly had a fairly long list.

Now almost halfway into my 7^th year in this job, I have achieved multiple awards, career recognition, and a stability in my position that I could have never foreseen in the depths of that darkness. Indeed, the Universe had opened doors where I once saw only walls.

The “bliss” I followed was not running off in a huff when things were going badly. I found it in small islands of good that I discovered when I opened myself to the possibility that they existed – even there.

While it is lovely to be able to walk into stores and see some of our favorite spiritual quotes emblazoned on t-shirts, coffee mugs, throw pillows, and more; we must take care to remember that these teachings are MUCH deeper than cute one-liners.

I did follow my bliss, and the Universe absolutely opened doors where there were once only walls – but it didn’t happen with me throwing up my hands and quitting in a dramatic, made-for-TV resignation. It happened when I spent time in quiet meditation, which helped me to see the great value in staying and securing my pension. It happened when I practiced the pivot, moving my energy and attention to all the positive aspects of the position and letting go of the negative ones. It happened when I focused on being grateful for the small things that were all around me.

Following our bliss is not a magic spell we can cast to transport ourselves from a tough situation to sipping cocktails on a white-sand beach. It is a process we can use to, one step at a time, transform the formidable walls in our path into doors that open to better experiences, happiness, and peace.

Wishing everyone a bountiful & blissful Thanksgiving weekend!

About the Author

Rebecca Harmon is a mother, grandmother, US Navy veteran, and keeper of cats who lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. A healthcare professional and educator, she maintains a blog on spirituality and enjoys speaking in front of large groups of people! She has self-published 2 non-fiction books about careers and the workplace: Discover Your Path – a map to job happiness and 7 Simple Steps – job satisfaction, any place, any time – both available on Amazon – and would love it if you dropped by her blog for a read, a Like, a Follow or a Share!

Follow Rebecca’s blog: A Practitioner’s Path
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Instagram: PractitionersPath
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