California was not yet in the cards for Donna Ferri, who was born and raised near the northeastern U.S. seaboard.
California would have to wait. Donna was busy. First of all, she came in during a blinding white snow blizzard, through which her father drove her mother to get to the hospital on time. They made it and, when she grew and they told her the story, she was glad they didn’t name her after a hurricane.
By age twelve she thanked her parents for providing her with the family tradition and explored on her own. Being underage, not yet free to roam as she might, she devoured whatever was on her parents’ bookshelf and at the tiny local library. Seeking she knew not what. Finding hints in high fantasy and literary fiction alike.
It was a time for taking refuge in literature and in her own story scribbling, artwork and simple poetry. She took to reading between the lyrics of folk music, letting its notes process the invisible emotion of observing a humanity seemingly mad with materialism, too young to know but only intuit what toll the popular trend to trash sensibility would take on the world into which she was yet to come of age.
Life, as it does best, provided quite the circuitous route.
Fast forward to sometime between then and now. The inner teaching she sought glinted its secrets from its hiding place where she’d shelved it at age twelve. No longer shrouding the mystery but showing itself in plain sight. She lighted upon the treasure and revived her childhood’s tradition, the wisdom of which spoke to her and encouraged her intuition the more.
Spirit’s all-pervading, life-giving manna portended more would come through. Suggested she need but discover the secret of transcending an almost-jaded filter that the world tried its best to fit onto her perception. So she polished the wonder-lens of soul’s innocence and, peering through, divined a formula. One that when faithfully applied, could nurture happiness even amidst life’s dramas.
All that seeking brought its own finds.
From the start three jewels glinted their promise, making a fine quarry to explore: wisdom teaching, good fiction and mind-power. These intermingled into a life-long passion.
Thus began her young adulthood, prospering alongside her fellows on a similar quest. A few other journeys would come along in due time; she would meet many fine acquaintances and make a few more good friends. Friends to cherish even when some have gone on before her, paving the way for her own trek into the Great Beyond.
All was in order. She knew her dream of moving to California would finally and rather spectacularly come true. Giving recall to the old idiom, “good things come to those who wait.” Or, as she rather rephrase it to encourage others and inspire them into action,
Good things come to those who dream, plan and divine the correct moment, then dare to make their dream come true.
She eventually settled in California. Near the ocean. Where she was headed all along. Her dream, a reality.
There she immediately connected with a new and now tight-knit group of friends who also believe as she. That you don’t have to “find” your purpose, yet you absolutely can create it.
She adores California, especially the ocean with it’s delicious marine air and impossibly azure views. Not to mention the mild climate and culture of open mindedness. At times she still dreams of her farmhouse high on the sand dunes amid hundreds of acres of wilderness and a good hike from the wide blue lake.
Something about this place–maybe the cool ocean breeze riding on salted rays of hot sunshine? Whatever it is, being here has inspired her. Perhaps having lived through so much madness around her, knowing that real change isn’t from outside but inside a person. From her own inner sanctum come not only dreams of writing but the will and activity of doing so. Going to writing groups. Sharing with beta readers. And now, beginning to share her stories.
Her writer’s motto is,
“Wherever I find myself on the page, Paradise is there with me, happiest amidst the semblance of itself. Planning its unlikely, happy appearance as the conclusion, promising satisfaction despite the most tumultuous of scenes casting their doubts. Paradise is, after all, for which I write and why.”
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