Still seeing in the dark.

  There’s something about a thunderstorm that quiets the noise inside me. Right now, as I sit in my chair by the window, the sky is putting on one of its most beautiful displays—thunder cracking through the clouds, lightning flashing across the sky like heaven’s handwriting, and distant rumbles rolling in behind it all. I’m in my element. This… this is my favorite kind of weather. I love to sit by the window when it storms. I could sit here for hours just listening. The crackles, the loud booms, the deep rumbling that feels like it’s coming from inside the earth itself—it all speaks to something in me. It’s wild and powerful, yet somehow it brings me peace. My mom tells me not to open the window because it lets in the hot air, and she’s right. But sometimes, I just want to hear the storm clearly . There’s something about hearing those deep rumbles that makes me feel close to something bigger than myself—like nature is reminding me that I’m not alone, and I never was. Tonigh...

  Post: Still seeing in the dark. Everything is brightening up now — it’s a nice bright white, with little yellow stringers moving about. The light actually started last night while I was listening to my smooth jazz — Grover Washington Jr., Spiro Gyra… that early seventies sound I love. I let it play until I was tired enough to drift off. There’s something about that music that settles the soul. And this morning, I had the sweetest time with my stepdad again, as always. We went downstairs just after five, and were back up before seven-thirty. I sipped my coffee slowly while we sat together and listened to a few good songs. I always look forward to mornings like these — the quiet, the music, and the company.

Still Seeing in the Dark Everything is brightening up now. The dark has turned into a soft, bright white, with little yellow streamers dancing through it. This morning, like many others, started early — we went downstairs just after five, and came back up before seven-thirty. I sipped my coffee slowly while sitting with my stepdad. We didn’t say much, but we shared the kind of calm that speaks louder than words. Some beautiful songs played while we sat there, and I held onto the moment. I always look forward to mornings like these. They remind me: even in the dark, there's always a little light waiting to shine. Quote: “Even the quietest mornings can carry the loudest peace.”  

🌙 The Quiet That Lets Me Rest Still seeing in the dark. Sometimes this peace even affects my hearing. And honestly, sometimes that’s a good thing—because it allows me to rest better. Especially at night, or in the late evening, if I’m not listening to any audiobooks on my phone. It’s like the stillness wraps around me and says, “You don’t have to take in anything else right now. Just be still. Just rest.” It’s just like having my own yoga without all the exercises. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” —Matthew 11:28 — Still Seeing in the Dark Kamala’s Diary  

🕯️ Candlelight in the Dark Still seeing in the dark. It’s still dark, with the yellow floaters stringing by slowly—but that’s okay. Talking to my grandma while taking care of her, bringing her soda, and collecting her dinner dishes took my mind off the darkness I was seeing. The yellow… it reminds me of candles—just like you beautifully put it this afternoon. Soft. Quiet. Comforting. Even in the dark, that gentle light is still moving. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” —John 1:5 — Still Seeing in the Dark Kamala’s Diary  

📝 Why I Write Still seeing in the dark. As I’m writing this, it’s still dark—with the yellows moving slowly in tiny stringers. This is why I love to write. Not only does it relax me, but it also helps keep my mind sharp. That’s the best part: Writing helps me practice my spelling and my grammar. It keeps me focused. It gives me peace. “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you.” —Isaiah 26:3 — Still Seeing in the Dark ✍🏾 Kamala’s Diary                      

  🕯️ A Different Kind of Light Even though it’s still dark, I keep seeing tiny yellows. I don’t understand it fully—but I know I’m not sad. I’m not upset. There’s nothing wrong. It’s just… not bright like it was on Sunday. But maybe that’s okay. Darkness doesn’t always mean sadness. Sometimes it means stillness. A kind of quiet that holds me. Like soft candlelight in a quiet room. Gentle. Present. A pause that doesn’t demand anything of me. Maybe this is another kind of light—one that doesn’t shine loud, but flickers steady. And maybe this too is holy. “The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” —Zephaniah 3:17 — Still Seeing in the Dark ✨ Kamala’s Diary

Dear Reader, Even in the dark, I still see the light. Even in the dark, God is still shining within me. That truth has stayed with me through everything I’ve walked through lately. Sometimes the dark is not just around me—it’s inside me too. But even then, there’s still something in me that refuses to go out. A quiet flame. A soft light. A voice that reminds me, “I’m still here.” God doesn't leave me in the dark—He meets me there. Scripture That Speaks to Me: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” — John 1:5 (NIV) This verse reminds me that God's light is not something the world can put out—not even heartbreak, confusion, or silence. His light lives in me, and it stays on, even when things feel dim. I’m learning that I don’t have to feel “all better” to believe that God is still present. I just have to trust that even in the shadows, He’s still shining. And so am I. Thank you for reading. If you’re going through something and y...

🎺 "A Soft Goodbye: Chuck Mangione (1940–2025)" The sky felt a little darker on July 22nd, 2025. The music world lost a true legend— Chuck Mangione , the man whose horn could make the whole world feel good. I grew up hearing the sweet, soothing sound of his flugelhorn. His music didn’t just play in the background—it wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket. Songs like "Feels So Good" were more than melodies—they were moods , memories , medicine . Today, I created a reel to honor him. But I also wanted to write something here in my corner of the internet— Still Seeing In The Dark —because his music was the kind that lit up even the darkest places. When I close my eyes, I picture the night sky in deep, dark blue... and floating there, like soft yellow lights, are his notes. Gentle. Glowing. Eternal. Chuck didn’t just play music. He spoke through his horn. He healed . He lifted . And even though he’s gone, his sound lives on, floating in the quiet moments w...

There’s something incredibly special about hearing a name from your past—something that used to mean the world to you—and realizing that your heart still remembers. During a recent Zoom call for the Color Your World Summer Reading Challenge with my librarians from Georgia Library Service for the Blind and Print Disabled (GLS), we were chatting about the National Federation of the Blind’s convention. As the conversation flowed, someone mentioned the Northeast Chapter of the Georgia Council of the Blind —and right then, a spark lit up in me. I used to be a part of that chapter. It was years ago, but those memories are still warm in my heart: the connections, the shared stories, the support, and the belonging. I didn’t even hesitate when I heard their name again. I just said, “I’d love to be a member again.” And I meant every word. So today, I reached out. I sent a message to Mrs. Linda Cox, the chapter treasurer, to let her know I want to return—not just as a member, but as someone ...

 Good morning, my dear readers—wherever you are and however you’re feeling, I hope today is treating you gently. This morning has been one of those quiet, sacred kinds of mornings. You know the ones. Not loud or rushed. Not full of appointments or expectations. Just soft. Simple. Soulful. I woke up with a little headache—one of those dull, hormonal ones that seems to camp out behind the eyes. It wasn’t unbearable, but it definitely made its presence known. Still, I moved slowly and gently, reminding myself that I don’t always have to show up at 100%. Sometimes, just being is enough. Like I do most mornings, I shared coffee time with my stepdad. That’s our special ritual. It’s our rhythm, like a favorite melody we never get tired of playing. We don’t need much—just a warm cup, a few stories, and, of course, music . And not just any music— real music. Timeless music. Today we played the sounds of Lionel Richie, Sting from The Police, Barbra Streisand, and Neil Diamond. These vo...

The Kind of Calm I Crave By Kamala Siobhan Milton There’s something about a thunderstorm that stirs my soul. While some people hide from the rain and cover their ears at the sound of thunder, I welcome it — because for me, it’s more than weather. It’s a feeling. It’s my favorite kind of calm. Being totally blind, I don’t watch the lightning streak across the sky — but I feel it. I hear the story it tells. The soft roll of thunder, the rhythm of raindrops tapping on the roof — it becomes a soundtrack to something deeper inside me. Sometimes, when the storm rolls in and the world outside quiets down, my imagination wakes up. I picture myself laying in bed with the man I love, warm and close, our bodies and hearts wrapped up in each other. The thunder gently rumbling in the distance becomes part of that moment. It's soft… steady… sensual. I don’t have that person right now, but I dream of him. And when the rain comes, it’s like he’s almost here. Certain love songs bring th...

What My Inner Sight Is Trying to Show Me Lately, I’ve been seeing colors. Not just with my eyes, but deep inside — in that quiet space where emotions live long after the moment has passed. I’ve experienced this “inner sight” for months now, but I stopped talking about it for a while. I didn’t want people to think I was being too repetitive, or dramatic, or somehow “too much.” But the truth is, this is part of my reality — and today, it showed up again, stronger than ever. I saw turquoise — deep and dark. Brown around the edges. And yellow floaters , drifting slowly through it all like tiny flickers of something trying to shine. And for the first time in a while, I stopped to ask: What is this showing me? Turquoise feels like an emotional ocean — like everything I’ve been carrying quietly. It’s the color of silence that’s heavy, not peaceful. It reminds me of the sadness and frustration I felt when people I once trusted and cared about… turned their backs on me. People who...

Today, I did something I’ve been meaning to do for a while — I made not one, but two reels about my struggles with hearing aids. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy to put myself out there like that, but it felt necessary. It felt like something that had to be said, not just for me, but for everyone out there going through something similar and feeling like no one understands. Living with a disability — in my case, hearing loss — isn’t just about not being able to hear clearly. It’s about how society reacts to that. It’s about the systems in place that either help us or make things harder. It’s about how insurance programs like Medicaid often fall short in covering the very tools we need just to live and communicate like everyone else. I shared in my reels how frustrating it’s been to learn that my Medicaid doesn’t fully cover the cost of hearing aids or repairs, unless I have a certain kind of supplemental coverage — and trying to even find that support can be a struggle in itself....

Lately, I’ve been running into a lot of roadblocks when it comes to finding help with something that many of us take for granted— the ability to hear clearly. I haven’t posted in a while, but after all the phone calls, the back-and-forths, and the confusion I’ve been facing, I think it’s time to speak out and share my experience in hopes it helps someone else—or even sparks the attention of the people who can change things. Here’s what’s been going on. As someone who lives with a disability and relies on Medicaid, I assumed that hearing aids—something medically necessary for many of us—would be covered, especially if they needed to be replaced or repaired. But after making calls and speaking to different places, I was told that Medicaid does not cover hearing aids unless I have a supplemental plan or additional insurance . Can you imagine what it’s like to need a tool that helps you live safely, communicate better, and engage with the world around you—only to be told you can’t ge...

🌿 The Green Glows Brighter I made a small mistake today. I forgot how to exit the blog edit box — just a simple key press. But once I figured it out, something happened… The green inside me — that color I’ve been feeling all day — started to glow even brighter. Not because everything was perfect, but because I kept going. That glowing green feels like self-trust . Like I'm finding my rhythm again. Like growth — slow, soft, but steady. I’m learning. I’m adapting. And I’m getting the hang of it. And that alone is enough to make my soul shine. #GreenMeansGrowth #GettingTheHangOfIt #KamalaDisabilityTalks #GlowingInside #BlogReflections 

🌱 Learning As I Go Today I realized something simple — I forgot how to exit the edit box in my blog. I didn’t know I had to press the escape button. It might sound small, but you know what? That moment reminded me of something deeper: We’re all learning — even when we think we should already know it. Sometimes, the journey doesn’t come with instructions. You just figure it out as you go. So, to anyone else out there who’s still learning how to navigate buttons, life, or emotions — I see you. You’re not alone. 💜 #StillLearning #GraceForMyself #KamalaDisabilityTalks #LearningIsGrowing #EveryStepMatters 

               Yellow-Green Light 🌼 The Color I’m Feeling Today: Yellow-Green Light 🌿 Lately, something has been shifting — and today, I felt it in color. What once was just white with yellow floaters has transformed into something much more alive: a bright yellowish-green, more yellow than green, glowing like early summer. Like sunlight through new leaves. Like joy that can't sit still. This morning started with sweet music and hot coffee, just me and my stepdad talking about life, with peace floating around us. I opened my page to find stars rolling in, reactions and comments flooding my Reels and posts like never before — it felt like I was finally being seen in the way I've always hoped. And then, love showed up in the little things — my two sisters made breakfast for the family, and later, I took a peaceful nap, my soul still glowing in that yellow-green light. That color, to me, is gratitude. It’s new beginnings,...

☕️ A Peaceful Morning, a Powerful Dream, and a Purpose This morning started out beautifully—just like many mornings do. I had a sweet conversation with my stepdad, with soft, comforting music playing in the background. I’m still enjoying my hot coffee as I write this. These quiet moments help me feel grounded and peaceful. Inside my mind, everything is dark—but not empty. I still see yellow floaters slowly drifting all around. Up in the ceiling where a fan and light are supposed to be, there’s a dim light—dark golden brown and yellow—glowing softly. These images come from within, even though I have no physical eyes. They move, they change, and they feel real to me. And then there was the dream I had last night... 🌙 A Dream About a Job, A Message About Purpose Last night, I had a dream that really stayed with me. In the dream, I met a beautiful young Black woman who was totally blind, just like I am. She had dark skin, shoulder-length hair, and brown eyes. She didn’t wear sungl...

This morning started off just the way I love it—peaceful, warm, and full of love. I had a beautiful morning with my stepdad, as usual, and right now, I’m still enjoying a nice cup of hot coffee while sweet music plays gently in the background. The vibe is calm and full of joy. And guess what? While I was soaking in the goodness of this morning, something exciting happened! I posted a Reel called “Up, Up, and Away,” and someone named Lovely Franks left a comment asking for more information. I was so happy to see that! I sent him the link to my disability page and also to my blog so he can follow along if he wants. I told him he’s always welcome on board, and I meant it. I’d absolutely love to have him be part of this journey. Connecting with people through my content like this is exactly why I do what I do. Every new follower, every kind comment, every person who wants to learn more—that’s a win in my book. It’s all about community, support, and making people feel like they belong....

I’m Not a Cryer or a Tattletale—I'm Just Done Lately, I’ve been feeling so much better—and I realized why. It’s because I haven’t spoken to my so-called best friend and her mean, cruel boyfriend. Their negativity, their drama, the way they treated me—it all left me feeling drained. But now that there’s space between us, it’s like I can finally breathe again. The old me might’ve cried over it. Might’ve picked up the phone and called the Just People office to tell them what happened. But I didn’t do that. Not because I didn’t have a reason. Not because they didn’t deserve to be held accountable. But because in my book? That’s petty. I’m not here to tattle. I’m not here to play games. I’m here to grow, to heal, and to protect my peace. It’s not always easy to walk away from people who once meant something to you. But sometimes, the best thing you can do is let them go . I didn’t ask for the disrespect—but I am asking for better in my life from now on. So if you’re holding onto ...

Title: Fighting for Our Future, Celebrating Our Moments It’s been a little while since I’ve posted here, but I haven’t been quiet. I’ve been fighting. I’ve been sharing updates about the devastating Medicaid cuts that threaten the lives and independence of so many disabled people like me. I’ve spoken out online, written to my elected officials, and urged others to sign and share my petition. I’ve made sure my voice is heard because too many people in power want to silence or ignore people like us. Medicaid is not a luxury—it’s a lifeline. Even when it gets overwhelming, I keep pushing forward. But sometimes, moments of joy come along to remind me why I fight so hard—for freedom, for family, for love, and for the everyday experiences we all deserve. This past week has been filled with those moments. A Birthday and a Boil My sister Trenace’s birthday fell right on the Fourth of July this year, and we celebrated her in a big way—with a full seafood boil after a day of good compa...

💭 Anger vs. Self-Pity — What I’ve Been Thinking About 💭 A long time ago, I saw a movie about a 12-year-old boy who was training for the Olympics. He was doing great—until one day he ran into the street while playing with friends and got hit by a fast-moving car. He survived, but ended up in a wheelchair. He had to relearn everything: how to move, how to live. He wasn’t brain-injured—just physically disabled—but the emotional toll was heavy. A therapist came to his house to help with rehab. But the boy was stuck in deep frustration and grief. He didn’t want to do the exercises. He kept yelling things like, “I can’t! I can’t! I won’t! Don’t you understand?! I can’t do it!” Eventually, the therapist got angry too. She snapped and told him she wasn’t going to put up with any more of his self-pity. She told him he was going to do it. She wasn’t going to let him give up. That scene really stayed with me. And it made me think about myself. I never felt sorry for myself—not in tha...

🌟 Disability Representation Throwback — What Really Stuck With Me 🌟 This morning’s response to my posts has really touched me. I’ve been thinking about how powerful it is when people see you— really see you—for who you are. And for me, a lot of that started with something unexpected: Sesame Street . As a blind person, I didn’t always feel represented growing up. But on Sesame Street , I saw people like Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder—two blind musicians who showed up with pride, joy, and talent. I saw kids with cerebral palsy and Down syndrome, a little girl who used sign language, even Big Bird learning how to talk to a child with autism. And it wasn’t just the guest stars—it was the grownups on the show who took the time to learn how to include disabled people , to speak with kindness and understanding. That left an imprint on me. It made me feel like maybe—just maybe— I belonged, too. I remember characters like Mr. Johnson at Charlie's Restaurant getting overwhelmed and...