You Are Not Behind

“Perhaps you are not behind at all. Perhaps you are simply in the middle of becoming.”

My sweet mermaid darlings and dear Stillwater ladies,

I have been quietly tucked away behind the scenes of late, tending small matters with patient hands and allowing my knees the slower sort of healing I confess I never imagined would require quite so much time. Yet perhaps there is something rather humbling in being made to move gently again; to sit more often beside one’s own thoughts; to curate quietly whilst the world rushes noisily onward without us.

I have still been gathering lovely things all the same; little thoughts; little hopes; candlelit notions for the settlement and the tea room and all the tender corners yet to come. And last week, the tide remained kind, therefore i left several small sweet messages upon the YouTube channel, which I hope may bring comfort to any heart presently wandering through its own unseen season of becoming.

I have also recently shared a rather long and heartfelt live conversation there, wherein I spoke candidly about exhaustion, perseverance, healing, and the curious business of continuing onward even when one feels somewhat weather-worn by the journey. Alongside it, I left a channelled reflection concerning the future of social media itself; a subject which seems to occupy the minds of so many creators presently navigating these ever-changing digital seas. If either finds its way to you, I hope it arrives as a friendly lantern rather than a lesson.

There is a peculiar sort of sorrow that settles upon the heart when one watches others arrive whilst she herself still appears to be travelling; and I do not mean the shallow sort of envy spoken of so freely now, but the quieter ache known mostly to women who have tended a vision for so very long that it has become stitched into the lining of their spirit.

I have known this feeling well, my mermaid darlings.

One woman opens the tea room; another publishes the book; another gathers the audience; another moves into the old house she dreamt of when she was scarcely more than a girl with ribboned hopes and flour upon her sleeves. Meanwhile, there you sit beside your own little life, wondering softly whether the tide has forgotten your name entirely.

Yet I have come to believe something rather different.

I do not believe our lives unfold according to punishment, favouritism, or abandonment at all; I believe they unfold according to readiness, alignment, and the peculiar intelligence of timing that very few souls trust whilst standing within it.

A seed does not apologise for remaining unseen beneath the earth.

It allows the dark to perform its holy work.

It softens; it breaks; it yields; and from the outside, one could very easily mistake the entire affair for failure. Nothing appears to happen for such a long while that the impatient observer assumes the thing has died entirely. Yet beneath the soil, a thousand invisible rearrangements quietly prepare for the precise moment the tender green shoot may rise without collapsing beneath its own becoming.

I think many women abandon themselves in this season.

They dig endlessly at the earth to check whether the roots are forming; they compare their unopened garden to another woman’s harvest; they decide the dream must not be theirs because it has not arrived quickly enough to soothe the nervousness of waiting.

And still the seed remains below; not dead, but occupied.

I have manifested extraordinary things in my own life; some so improbable they would sound almost fanciful if spoken plainly aloud. Yet even now, whilst living faithfully within the end of my desires, I find pieces still arranging themselves with a wisdom far older than my impatience. The cottage, the tea room, the settlement, the beautiful gatherings I see so clearly in my mind, all of it continues moving toward me in exact proportion to the hour appointed for it.

Not late; not withheld; not forgotten.

Merely unfolding.

We speak often now as though manifestation means immediate appearance; yet nature herself has never behaved in such a hurried fashion. The rose does not burst forth the very afternoon the seed is pressed into the garden bed; the tide does not rush inland because we stamp our slippered feet upon the shore and demand it come at once.

The old world understood this far better than we do.

Women once quilted hope slowly into their lives; they planted orchards whose fruit they might never fully enjoy; they stitched linens for homes not yet built; they trusted continuity more than spectacle. There was less panic in becoming because a deeper trust in seasons remained.

And perhaps that is what so many weary hearts truly hunger for now; not merely the manifestation itself, but permission to trust the unseen portion of their becoming without feeling left behind whilst it ripens.

My sweet Stillwater darlings, if your life appears quiet just now, do not mistake quietness for absence. The roots often labour hardest where no applause can reach them.

You are not behind.

You are beneath the soil for a little while longer, and strange though it may seem, that hidden season may prove the very making of you.

Most affably yours ‘til my next enchanting swim,

Lady Raquel

When the Striving Grows Quiet

My dear Mermaid Darlings and cherished friends of Stillwater Petticoat Society,

This morning arrived with a curious sort of clarity; not the loud kind that announces itself from a rooftop, but the gentle sort that slips through an open window whilst the kettle hums and the world has not yet quite awakened.

I have spent much of my life believing that if I loved a little harder, worked a little longer, gave a little more of myself, then perhaps I would finally feel seen. Many of us who grew up feeling overlooked learn this lesson early; we become caretakers, peacemakers, and steady hands for everyone around us, often without realising that we have quietly abandoned ourselves in the process.

Yet there comes a season when one begins to understand that whatever we most long to receive from others must first be supplied from within.

If we desire appreciation, we must learn to appreciate ourselves. If we desire kindness, we must extend it inward. If we wish for someone to fill our cup, we must first discover the spring that already rests beneath our own feet.

The difficulty lies in accepting that no person can wholly provide what the soul requires. They may add sweetness to our tea; they may walk beside us for a little while; they may offer encouragement when the road grows steep. Yet the deeper work belongs to us alone.

I believe that is why so many of us find ourselves arriving at a peculiar crossroads, one where striving begins to lose its charm and peace becomes far more attractive than pursuit.

Perhaps that is not surrender at all, perhaps it is wisdom. 

For those of you listening faithfully to my subliminals, you may have noticed something rather curious. Occasionally, a recording that once brought comfort suddenly feels irritating, and you find yourself wanting to switch it off altogether. Many people become concerned when this happens, though I have found it to be a familiar part of the voyage.

The subconscious mind rarely welcomes change with open arms. It prefers the old pathways, even when they no longer serve us. When a new belief begins to take root, the mind often pushes back. A little resistance is not necessarily a sign that something is wrong; often, it is evidence that something is shifting.

Persist gently, my dear.

Not with force, nor frustration, but with the quiet certainty that a gardener brings to her seeds. She does not dig them up each morning to see whether they have grown; she simply tends them and trusts the process.

If you have not yet collected the free subliminals, you are welcome to email (Raquel@RaquelCarter.com) me, and I shall happily send them along. I continue to share new videos on YouTube throughout the week, along with regular live gatherings for those walking this path beside me.

Here at Scarlette Rose Cottage, life has found its rhythm once more.

The shelves now stand in place, and after nearly two years of boxes, wrappings, and little piles waiting their turn, I can finally see the shape of home emerging again. A few projects still wait patiently in the wings. I hope to finish the fireplace board very soon, perhaps this week if energy allows, though next week seems equally content to receive it.

Most days, I retreat to the cottage and lose myself amongst stories.

Two new children’s books sit open upon my desk, waiting for their next chapters, and I confess I am quite impatient to begin the illustrations. There is something magical about reaching that stage, when words begin to ask for colour.

Sweet little Buckaroo has also returned home from the taxidermist. I shall be creating a glass case for him and hope to fashion something reminiscent of the cover of The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies. It will require a rather grand shelf when finished, though I suspect he would approve of such arrangements.

There are many adventures ahead; quiet ones, creative ones, and perhaps a few unexpected ones as well.

If you should like to keep company with me between letters, I share glimpses of daily cottage life on Instagram stories each day. It remains the one place where I gather most regularly, and I should be delighted to see you there.

As for me, the dough is waiting upon the kitchen counter, and a week’s worth of bread will not make itself. The afternoon sun has begun to shift across the windows, and that seems as good a signal as any to tie on an apron and carry on.

Until next time, my dear friends, may your cup be filled from within, your heart remain light, and your days unfold with a little more peace than striving.

Most affably yours 'til my next enchanting swim, Lady Raquel

I Love Little House on the Prairie So Much I've Decided To Live In It! (For Now)

Good morning, my dear mermaid hearts, 

This post is one of the most vulnerable I've written in quite some time. As many of you, my dear friends, know, I grew up in a detrimental environment, which caused me to develop a need (for most of my life until I changed my belief system three years ago) to have a strong desire to control as much as conceivable, whether that was my home decorating design, people, situations and the list goes on. Most of my anxiety and want to control disappeared after I divorced the narcissistic dark horse; nonetheless, I had some fine-tuning and pruning in a few more areas.

Now, I must preface: I will not say that things won't alter drastically from one point to another, but that's the vulnerable aspect of why I am sharing. It's necessary to state that merely because a person meanders from one idea to another does not mean I or any other woman is a flake, all over the place, unpredictable, indecisive, unstable, etc. It is that most Pisces, like unto myself, are highly creative and artistic. We have so many ideas, and our imagination is popping off at every whim, and that is why we appear wish-washy, although that is not the case. I'm eliminating those predictable labels and boxes in which folks want to place us. The buck stops here, my fruits. (smile) 

I want you to know how much I value each of you who read my writings. How much and how long it took for me to get where I am today, and one of those aspects of myself that I am proud of is being vulnerable and down to earth. I think that's why my blog is so successful. For one, I am writing from my heart and trying to put out little merriment seeds of happiness and joy with each post. I love this wee little corner of the interweb. 

Along our lives, and mainly when someone is manifesting and is purposefully aware of one's ability to create consciously, there can be much prattle about imposter syndrome. Significantly, when conscious manifestors (such as myself) decide to begin sharing their lives publically and teach about how to manifest, usually it's for the reason we can honestly say we have displayed such and such. For example, I will bang on for two fortnights concerning how to manifest a twin flame and how to have a healthy, happy and sustainable marriage for over eight years. I can also share how to successfully use Neville Goddard's revision technique, as I did when Sawyer passed. Neville's revision technique made that possible. Again, I can speak on thousands of manifesting demonstrations; another one, for example, is being cast on a (Hello Sunshine) reality show. However, I've never talked too openly about manifesting my dream home because it's not a tangible demonstration (as of yet). It was due to imposter syndrome, and many spiritual teachers and leaders, such as myself, blunder with imposter syndrome to varying degrees. 

Here is the skettle of fish, or perhaps it's a blessing in disguise or the silver lining at the end of the rainbow, or whichever way you'd describe it. I will be the optimistic gal and proceed with all is well, and the joy is in the journey. 

Well, what's all this prattle about being vulnerable of which you are eluding to Razz? Let us get on, shall we? 

I am constantly meditating, and after I reprogrammed my subconscious mind with all new beliefs, I am on autopilot with all the beautiful pleasantries and notions of where my spirit (Mermaid Inner Being) nudges me, and I follow the inspired action. So here is what I received in spiritual prompting last night, and here is where my story unfolds. 

When Sawyer died, Jeffrey Shawn and I moved into my folks home, and that was nearly four years ago. Into the second year, when the pandemic (the black plague) was in full effect, I pleaded with my father to let me have a go-in with his old storage building and turn it into a little Victorian mermaid cottage. As I've spoken about before, I needed something to distract me and fling my sadness at, and utilising my energy in an old storage room did the trick. Well, I began tearing old cattle fences down and recycled them for flooring; I then used old pavers and made a hearth, painted, decorated and found loads of antiques on Facebook marketplace, antique shoppes, estate sales and charity shoppes. I had nestled in quite comfortably. Then, about three months ago, I felt as though I wanted to begin searching for our Victorian forever home, which I have quite the list of ticking off, which includes substantial land, an authentic Victorian home, also including a stone cottage, a tea room, a place for my farm animals, sheep, barns, etc. I mean, honestly, you could merely look at my page about The Carter Settlement and know what my significant dream is: a little village, The Carter Settlement. I will have it one day, and I think that day is closer and closer to my natural state. I'm a powerfully master mermaid manifestor whenever it has anything to do with manifesting. The particular element human folks get hung on is time and trust. However, I will profess that is merely because most landlocked folks haven't reprogrammed their minds with a whole new set of beliefs. If you'd like to work with me on changing your life, I have the map for creating a life you love, my darling. All you have to do is e-mail me at Raquel@RaquelCarter.com

Okay, where was I? 

Oh yes. 

The other day's accreditation, I saw intentions for the day, and without going into explicit detail (well, because my golly, it's long, my darlings), I was thinking about what to do as Jeffrey Shawn is now having to have extensive hip surgery. That has now put a wrench in our moving or continued forth in finding our forever home as he will need several months of healing and convalescing.

The cognitive energy will adequately require me to remain focused and stress-free. As I am always conscious of my mental well-being, I will not place unnecessary measures upon myself. Now, this led me to another thought. What am I going to do now for these months of my inability to move and yet be comfy and cosy in my little cottage? I petitioned spirit and set the intentions. What do I do in the meantime? Leave crates and boxes, merely shove them to one side, rent a storage facility and store them all, unpack and live life by taking one day at a time; what should I do? In addition, I am still waiting for the writer's strike to know about filming for the reality show Cottage to the Core. It was causing me a bit of grief, I must admit it. I thought I was proceeding, and I am being vulnerable and sharing my story because I wager others can relate to me; as Aaron Dougherty says in The Conscious Coaching Accelerator program, folks love vulnerability.

It has been a wee conundrum, I must say. Ask my dearest friend in all the world, Patti Anne, and she will tell you I was at a beggar's knot, not knowing what to do, but I knew if I kept trusting and knowing with faith, I'd always receive my answer to every question. Fast forward to last night, and I received my answer, and im sharing it with you now! Eeekkk! 

I was strolling Instagram, which I have not customarily been doing for quite some time as it had lost its savour for me; however, I stumbled upon an account where this gal is turning her old home into the equivalent of the Outlander set. Well, that thought was of no significance to me; I've never even seen one episode of the show Outlander. So I kept scrolling and was about to move on, and the thought hit me like a ton of bricks. What do I love and have built much of my life upon? Little House on the Prairie! Many years ago, I actually received plans I had drawn up of the schoolhouse for one day when I had the land for The Carter Settlement. The thought was whilst you are waiting on your manifestation for your land and Victorian home, tea room, etc., turn your little cottage into The Little House on the Prairie. That set me right, I must confess. It's nearly like that now, but a few changes of rocking the fireplace and building a loft, a little decorating, and it'll be complete.

Turn your cottage into The Little House on the Prairie! Well, after 1800 words, there you have it, my fruits! 

I began that day. I called around and found a storage unit to put all of our boxes and furniture in for a few months, and I have started drawing up plans on how to transform the cottage. There are several aspects that I can start straight away, as I don't feel it's quite the stretch as it sounds. I had already planned on implementing various items, such as an outhouse and fireplace, anyway, so this makes it quite the natural fit. Now, does that mean I know what will happen tomorrow or the next month and so forth? No. But that's the fun of it, is it not? There must be trust in the not-knowing and ride those waves of uncertainty like a mermaid goddess. As we've often been told, my darlings, it's not in the destination; it's all about the voyage (journey).

I love Little House so much I've decided to live in it (for now)! What do you think my Pa (hahaha, dad) will say when I tell him I want his help in the transformation? I may have to go about it alone, for my "Pa" is currently having some health issues. I shall prevail. If these darling women on Instagram can DIY, I most certainly can, too. 

I hope you follow me on my voyage on Patreon and watch how it turns out. If you enjoy personal development, spirituality, the Law of Assumption, old-timey lifestyle (Little House on the Praire, Beatrix Potter, Tasha Tudor), home renovations, dreamy fairytale living, books, artistry, and mermaids, of course, well then my Instagram account is for you. Mind you, my darlings, some of my content is on Patreon, where it is behind the paywall. It is five dollars to join, and you can cancel anytime if you feel you're not receiving your money's worth, but you do, my dear hearts.

Have a lovely Sunday. I am off to work on the guest bathroom in my folk's cottage. I am renovating it. I have been sharing my stories all about it on Instagram if you're interested. 

Also, if you are interested in commissioned bespoke illustrations for Christmas cards, I am taking a few orders this year. Here is my latest one. Her name is Annabelle, and she's a little fancy Victorian cat. E-mail me at (Raquel@RaquelCarter.com) with the subject line "bespoke painting" or message me on my Etsy shoppe. I am so happy to paint for you. Just think of how unique and personal your holiday cards will be this year, and goodness knows we need some "Take Joy" in these troubling waters as of late.   

Most affably yours til' my next swim, Razz   

A Feather In My Cap And Explanation Of My New Found Understanding

I am going to speak my heart, and if you understand this message is meant for you. A fortnight ago, I had fallen apart and began wailing on like a schoolgirl who couldn't make my dolls cooperate. Something happened; I felt such a lack of reason as I had begun to muddle my manifesting priorities. I had tried this and that, but oftentimes my desires were unyielded. It triggered apart of me no end. I'm never down for long, however, at that moment my plight to understand my frustrations on manifesting inconsistency gave way. I began tampering with ideas and techniques of such practises that I had used that did, in fact, work. I then began cutting the fat, so to speak on the processes that I knew weren't tools that increased my advantages of manifesting consistently.

Why Blocking Me On Social Media Is The Creepiest Form Of Flattery

My dear friend, 

Why you ask, am I in the least bit concerned about this topic or even for that matter writing about it? Well, to begin with, I have this blog for reasons of wanting to dissect issues of human behaviour, to deeply understand why people do what they do. Furthermore, I think if it's something that at one time has bothered the stew out of me, then I would be willing to make a million-dollar bet, some other person has had the issue as well. I'm going to tell you why folks do this and how to find the ease within yourself if it ever happens in your realm of experience. 

Our Emotional Scales Are Unfailingly Our Vibrational Touchstones

My dear friends, 

I thought to share a little story with you. I just made the long jaunt to the nearest UPS store to mail several of my Mermaidlings/Little Women paintings, and as you know, I am using Poppins, my bicycle. 

I awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, placed my hair in a side updo, and pinned it with many kirby grips, to keep those little stray hairs from falling into my eyes while riding. I had readily prepared by searching the internet to see what time the store opened. I was all set, and away I went. Upon arriving at the store, I noticed a little note taped upon the front of the glass door, which read "No internet." I parked Poppins {my bicycle} to the side, placed her kickstand down and walked inside. I noticed the lights were on, so I was hopeful in the shipping of said packages. 

Upon entering the store, a charming curly, sandy blond-haired girl was leaning in a chair, playing on her cellular phone with her legs kicked up on a small table. A brusque man was sitting behind the counter with his legs also kicked up on a table. I asked if I might mail some packages with which he replied, "No, our internet is down." I said, okay. He responded, it'll be back on this afternoon, or you can go down the road to the next UPS store and use theirs. I replied, "I am on a bicycle". Oh, he said. I walked out and was standing at the window while I contemplated my subsequent step. I asked myself, "Should I just go home or try and bicycle two and a half more miles to the nearest USPS?"

I then walked back in and asked if I might buy a booklet of stamps. I was holding my reticule, and I knew I had sufficient cash for a brochure of stamps if I were buying from the USPS, and I also had my debit cards. The man behind the counter said no, I can't sell them to you. I walked out, and immediately the spritely young gal came out and said, " We actually can sell you a book of stamps". I said, oh, good thank you. She held out the stamps and then said, "That will be 9.24". I had the funds for a booklet that generally costs me 8 at the USPS. I didn't realise how much more their prices were, so I offered my debit card. The man didn't look up, and the young girl said, "Can we take her debit card when he replied no, "OUR INTERNET IS DOWN."

I looked squarely at him and said, "I think you should close your store." He pointed to the sign on the door and said I have a note, so why would I do that? I said, "Because you aren't capable of serving your patrons." He said, "Well, have a good day." I said, "Thank you." At that moment, I nearly broke down in tears, but I mustered inner strength, gathered myself together and peddled back home. Even though it was a bit longer, I took the scenic route. I knew that if I were able to enjoy the scenery, I would talk myself right back into a fabulous mood, which I did. I was out of breath, and to clarify my state of affairs, I live in Florida, where the temperature felt like one hundred and seven degrees, and I was wearing a dress with a corset, so my defences were down. I made it back home, rifled through my billfold and retrieved what leftover holiday stamps I had. I stuck a ridiculous amount on each envelope and crammed them in the mailbox. I came back in, and as best I could slump down on the sofa {with a corset on} sighed {ahhhh}.

I share this story with you for several reasons, and I will demonstrate with a few more accounts, to bring the conclusion of a tale about momentum, and energetic vibrations. 

If I chose to, I could have just shared that story with you and chalked it up to bad timing, the man behind the counter was daft, devoutly state I was mistreated and that all shoddy things happen to me. However, I am one to take ownership of myself, comprising of my energy. I'm abiding when I try fervently to live my truth, action accountable with vibrations and life as a whole. 

Now, hours later, having sat down and looked over the situation, I was able to recognise what happened. Nothing went wrong, even though it seems like it did, I know better. All the experiences in our lives are teaching us how to better clarify what we desire in life, and Source/God/Universe is weaving us in and out to do so. 

The bicycle trip was another example of me resting on oriented moves of physical action, as opposed to placing myself into alignment before the ride initially. I had a preceding negative approach. In preparation this morning, I had mentally thought to myself, I despise this situation. I was upset, for something other than the lack of a vehicle. I will share that particular with you in a moment. 

Me and Oliver TwistyTopsy

This gave me a reason to reflect this morning upon returning home from the UPS store. Yesterday, Jeffrey and I had received news that for the second time the contract on our sale purchase was cancelled. As I was trying to console myself from this blow, I recalled an Abraham Hicks workshop. I had remembered hearing of a man that was in the hot seat and was telling Abraham how he had his home on the market for over two years and for some reason he could not get the house sold, and he was so frustrated about it. Abraham then asks him how he feels vibrationally about the home at the moment. He began rattling off how much it needs work, his family has grown out of it, there are no kids for his kids to play with anymore, etc. Then Abraham asked about his emotions when first buying the home. He got a smile on his face and spoke of all the family gatherings they shared, how much they loved going to get new plants/ trees, and how exciting it was for them as a family. Abraham then said to him, right now, you are vibrationally sending out to others, "Come buy this piece of crap I no longer want!" Comparatively to how he used to feel about the home, it is his job to then change his vibration, and the house would sell. Well, the conclusion to that story is that one week after this workshop, the man sent word through an email that he had worked on his vibrational energy, and his house sold. So I began thinking about my vibrational energy towards my own home, and what I am sending out on an emotional scale. Isn't that the truth of it? We frequently go about life without realising our energy is off. We think just because we get up and put our hair in a cute side updo, and look presentable that all is well, however, looks are deceiving. We might as well come around to understanding we can "fool" many folks with an act of seemingly doing well, but we will never fool the Universe/God/Source. Everything is vibrational, and there are no two ways around it. After resting with myself for a time and working a focus wheel, I now realise I have had mixed emotional vibrations with regards to my dear little home. Soon it will be a matter of sufficient timing to get back onto my delightful seafaring voyage of happiness.

I share these experiences with you to remind myself visually of how I am doing on my transformational journey, as well as to hopefully inspire others to observe their own lives.

This morning I told my dear gardener of my synopsis and how even though I live the law of attraction and teach the law of attraction, it will forever be ongoing in our earth life learning. As much as the quote is cliche, it is about the voyage, not the destination. I am so appreciative of the ability to see these experiences as a way to autocorrect.

Aren't these girls just as cute as can be? Their mother sent me these photos of their painting reveals and I just HAD to show you their darling little faces.  

I wanted to show you two separate photos and get your opinions. I know the coloured one is delightful, but I also think the sepia one is delightful too. I am attempting to determine if sepia and black and white images would be more suitable to my blog. If we look back at the Victorian days, they didn't have coloured pictures and If I'm attempting to create an actual Victorian blog, wouldn't the photos be better suited in what would have appeared then? You tell me. I would love your opinion. 

This is the new sign for The English Settlement. Isn't it a delight!

I also wanted to share a few books that I am currently loving.

~Beatrix Potter's Gardening Life: The Plants and Places That Inspired the Classic Children's Tales: Marta McDowell

~The 1885 Edition of Hill's Manual of Social and Business Forms: The How-To-Do Everything Book of Victorian America: Thomas E. Hill

~Red: A History of the Redhead: Jacky Colliss Harvey

~ Tasha Tudors Heirloom Crafts: Tovah Martin

~The LittleHouse Cookbook: Frontier Foods from Laura Ingalls Wilder's Classic Stories: Barbara M. Walker

~The Beatrix Potter Country Cooking Book: Sara Paston-Williams

~The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady: A facsimile reproduction of a 1906 naturalist's diary: Edith Holden

~The Trade of Authorship: Wolstan Dixey {Victorian}

Most Affably Yours Til My Next Swim, Raquelxxx