From the dawn of time, man has looked to the heavens to scatter their wishes.
Like Stardust, the grains of sand that fall through your fingers, or the leaves that blanket the ground in autumn. All wasted.
I have tied my ribbon to the wishing tree at St. Nectan’s Glen in Cornwall, all to no avail.
But we keep on wishing, don’t we?
Have you ever noticed how many of your wishes come true when you command them assertively? Like, ‘stop that infernal noise’.
Within seconds, the noise will stop, and I roll my eyes to the sky and say thank you.
I believe that wishes must have some meaning, be heartfelt, not just lip service to something that is simply hoped for.
I have a friend who writes her wishes on a slip of paper, then buries it in the garden. She tells me that wishes are like seeds. They need to be loved and nurtured before they come back to you.
She never seems to go without the things she wants. After all, that is all wishes are.
Try this yourself and see what happens…