A visitor to a garden sees the successes, usually. The gardener remembers mistakes and losses, some for a long time, and imagines the garden in a year, and in an unimaginable future.” W.S. Merwin, What Is a Garden? I get nothing done. Church, in the morning, followed by a trip to a garden centre for
“I’m not very creative” doesn’t work. There’s no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don’t. Unused creativity doesn’t just disappear. It lives within us until it’s expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear. Brené Brown It’s another beautiful day.
Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee. Augustine of Hippo, Confessions I long for ordinary time: predictability and routine. Even as I write these words I see the absurdity of them, because even in ordinary time sands are shifting—sands are always shifting. Still I
Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. Ralph Waldo Emerson After a transition day in which my girls went home and I put the house back in order (in preparation for it going out-of-order), a new day begins. It’s demo day as the work to install new
Spring translates earth's happiness into colorful flowers. Terri Guillemets I wake late because of a restless night. A gift: time to read and time to pray. But waking late is not my favourite thing. There’s always a price. So just a short simple happy list this morning. More green in the flower garden every day. A
This is to say nothing against afternoons, evenings or even midnight. Each has its portion of the spectacular. But dawn — dawn is a gift. Mary Oliver, Long Life: Essays and Other Writings Dawn is, indeed, a gift and it’s coming later since we turned our clocks back last weekend. The time change is also
There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind. C.S. Lewis I’ve been thinking about my mothers: my adoptive mom who died suddenly at age fifty-five from a pulmonary embolism, and my birth mom who died suddenly at age fifty-nine from a pulmonary embolism. It messes with me every time I remember