Misty Dahl

Ch Ch Ch Ch Changes

Misty Dahl — Tue, 02 Oct 2012 00:49:33 +0000

Some of you may have noticed the construction on my website. First, let me apologize for the mess; I know everything keeps changing and it will probably continue to change for a while as I learn and build my business.

Second, I’m so sorry that everything has been so inaccessible. I’m removing the FOF for good, but I still have all the stories. If you’d like to access them for any reason just drop me a note and we can discuss.

The gist of it is:

I’m in the process of creating and I’m moving away (mostly) from genre into something different.

I think some of you will love it, but I’m sure a lot of you will be scratching your heads.

The truth is that there’s a lot you don’t know about me, and I guess there’s a lot I’m learning about myself too. It’s been quite a ride, and it continues to be amazing (and a lot of work).

Bottom line is that I’m living in my life’s purpose and slowly, slowly it will all become clear. I can’t wait to share it with you.

I hope you’re all thriving and enjoying your life.

I wish you abundance!

A Memory from Inside the Womb and the Living Room

Misty Dahl — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 05:35:43 +0000

“Before I was born I remember hearing music, and laughter, and I would go swooshing as my mother went spinning. Then after I was born I got to see this place called the living room. It was called the living room because that’s where they did the living, but it made me wonder why the other rooms weren’t called the living bathroom or the living kitchen or the living toy store. The living room was where they did most of their dancing and since I was living now too, I got to be in it. I was alive but I wasn’t warm in the water anymore, I was only on the blanket watching. I watched as my father picked up my mother, spinning her around as they laughed and kissed. It made me miss the swooshing and the warm water of her womb, but I smiled anyway because they were happy.”

The Dream

Misty Dahl — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 17:56:06 +0000

I had a dream I was composing an epic poem under a midnight blue sky covered in a blanket of bright stars. There were reams of paper billowing and the work went on for hours until suddenly there was you. You brought me hot cocoa and clementines and sang me Christmas songs slightly off key. Then the snow began to fall so we went inside and sat by the fireplace reminiscing and laughing until we both fell asleep. When morning came you were gone, but I had a poem. I remember feeling loss coupled with acceptance; it was a strange kind of loveliness. I knew you loved me, just as I loved you, but then I wept anyway.