spring, please.

a break in the trees


maybe I can

trees and fields

I visited this tree on a walk recently.  It’s in a field behind where I grew up.  We used to spend hours… days and nights playing out there.  Building pretend worlds.  Stories of lives we would live.  My sister and brother.  Sometimes the kids from the neighborhood.   It’s a shorter walk these days.  Everything is smaller.  The pretend worlds are harder to imagine.  And I wish I could talk to that little girl with her freckles and her braids and her eyes that were still wide and innocent and a little too big for her face.  I wish I could  whisper in her ear, kind things.  True things.  Things to make her real world as beautiful as her pretend ones.  I wish I could make her feel that safe again.  That hopeful.  Maybe.  Maybe I can.

old long since

Auld Lang Syne.  I have given this song some consideration and appropriately so.  It seems like my life, not unlike the lives of others, has been nothing but letting go and starting again.  Letting go.  Of times.  Of long ago and not so long ago.  And starting again.  And again.  And today is no different.  I suppose I have always known it and I have made a vow to begin living it.  Good and bad… letting go.  Forgetting what I can.  The bad will be easy enough to let fall away.  But I think, as I head forward, I will try to let fall from my heart some of the good too.  To make room for more good to come in.  I think it will be like waving goodbye to a trusted friend… letting go of a hand… glad for the way it filled my heart once, a little sad to see it go, but hopeful that I am fuller because of it and open to welcome what comes after.  So, take a cup of kindness and have a happy, healthy, peaceful New Year.

auld lang syne


I’m feeling like I am lost.  And I only know what it feels like to be lost, because I know the direct opposite.  Because I know what it feels like to be at home in myself, I know when I’ve left home.  It didn’t happen overnight.  I wandered away slowly.  And after a while, I didn’t notice.  Like when you live near train tracks and the whistle wakes you up at first in the middle of the night.  But it doesn’t take long before you don’t hear it at all unless you listen.    Unfortunately, if I’m not home, it’s impossible to be home to anyone else.  So, it must begin there.  Always.  Fortunately, I get lost in the physical world quite frequently, so I am familiar with leaving “breadcrumbs”.  Markers.  To guide my way back.   Breadcrumbs… Photography.  Dreams, a little altered.  Family.  Friends.  Quiet… my quiet.  And my heart, that came with me on this journey, and is always there.  Loving me home.

bw bench

gifts and gifts

Today, I was handed this very simple gift.  Snow.  And the quiet it makes when it falls.  And the peace it brings.

Sometimes the best gifts are right in front of us.   How often have I heard this.  And still, I waste them.  And then they’re not in front of me.  And I miss them like I miss my own breath.   I have wasted so many gifts by trying to hold on to them and keep them safe, instead of being in them.  Living them.  Breathing in them.  And today, for the first time, it actually felt possible to learn to be in these gifts minute by minute, being careful not to make them anything but what they are and let them flow right through me.  It’s a consciousness.  It’s being aware.  And it’s going to take some practice.  But that’s what my life is now.  Practicing what I’ve learned…

snow 1

just another way.

When I reached my forties, I thought my choices in life were severely limited.  And truth is, they do diminish somewhat.  My careers choices are fewer.  Certain physical limitations have arisen.  But recently, I have discovered that while it’s too late to become an astronaut or start a family of ten, I am faced with more choices about how  I live than ever.  I have never been so aware of how I interact with people.  Aware of the affect my words and actions have on them.  And that these are choices.  I have never subscribed to the phrase, “well, that’s just me…”  It’s only me if I choose for it to be.  In the last few years, in particular, I have been made fiercely aware of my behavior, my words, both written and spoken, even my expressions.  My interactions with those around me have been more intimate than ever in my life and the impact is profound.  I have watched work relationships and personal relationships either thrive or wither over time based largely in part on choices I make.  My words, tone, timing, mannerisms, things I simply don’t give much thought to, have all played a part in whether the relationships were nourished or starved.  Some of it is perspective.  Some of it is simply being caring instead of careless.  But every day, it is nothing more than choices.  And I have more than I ever imagined I would.

just another way