I wrote a insta post recently – Gray matter, does it matter? To whom? When I am gone, all the crazy wonderful thoughts, ideas, pains and pleasures will be snuffed out. I think I write because, well, shouldn’t all that somehow be downloaded? Like Harry Potter shouldn’t we be able to dip a wand into … More Inhaling Courage – Exhaling Fear
What flowers of our hearts are ready to bloom? We are always so quick to point out the crab grass of our souls. What flowers are there, that we can water and grow? Thich Nhat Hanh always said of our compost piles: “They give us the opportunity to turn our garbage, into flowers.” What a … More Soul Spring
THE BLACK RASPBERRY PICKING: IT’S ALL ABOUT PERSPECTIVE. A hot, sunny day. Solid blue, the late day buzz of locusts, cicadas calling me to the rhythms of life. it’s their call that epitomizes those lazy days of summer. I went into the market and asked where their blackberry bushes were for picking today. Directions simple, … More It’s all about Perspective
I looked in the mirror today. Were my perfections or my imperfections starring back at me? Was I receiving or rejecting? I saw an aging face, I saw a tired woman. I felt her feelings of lack. Lack of energy, stamina, and get up and go. When or how did the vibrant evaporate? It’s a … More Years, Mirrors and Batteries.
Melodies stir among the branches, soft clear echoes. Tranquility infused. A lover’s first touch brushes past my face my neck my arm. A stirring a shedding an invisible drape cascades away. A fullness of nothing…..of everything. Blood pulses through my veins. My Breathe moves the air And the silence listens.
Last week I was in that mood: You know the one, where clutter shouts from the corners, the pockets, the drawers, even the rooftops! The only reasonable thing to do was to lace up my boots and go for a walk in the woods. Thank goodness I did. Do you know what I found? I … More Clutter in my drawers. Clutter in the woods.
I am here I am there Lingering Moments Don’t last Savor Memory Bending twisting So pliable Almost unbreakable I think Lingering Moments … More The Art of Being
The sky is a crisp cold blue, I lay on our blue couch reading the Snow Child. I well with emotion upon the words; “In my old age I see that life itself is often more fantastic and terrible than the stories we believed in as children, and that perhaps there is no harm in … More “Untouchably” Touched
Splotches of paint thrown on the canvas of my mind Dripping, slowly through my words … More A Drift
I could hear them through my smell. Walking through a canopy of trees I stumbled into their conversation Crisp, cold ice dancing with mossy, rich mud. Greeting one another. One yawning, ready for rest Nodding wearily The other smiling … More The Reunion
Welcome to Wonder 