Just a Tree

I’m thinking about this weeping willow tree this morning. It lives in a park on the other side of the city—my favourite park in the area, one fat with memories and history. Over the course of forty years, I’ve walked in it and wept in it, ridden a bike along its paths, cheered at my

The Sum of the Parts

I dream I’m in an airport I’ve been in countless times between flights on my way home. It’s odd, for a number of reasons. I don’t have a ticket, for one thing. I know there are hours before the flight so I’m just reading in one of the lounges. The thought occurs that I’d be

Going Slow

Once upon a time, not so very long ago (though it seems like a lifetime has passed), it was a simple thing to drive down the hill from the neighbourhood where we live, turn into the strip mall, pick up a few sundries from the pharmacy, and stop in at the grocery store for a couple

Some Mornings

Murphy and I are in the den. He is curled up and snoozing on my lap while I read and lean in to early morning solitude. In the distance I hear the hum of a phone vibrating, and a ringtone goes from barely audible to loud. Sigh. I pick up the sleeping pup and we

Another Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday, but we don’t make a big fuss about birthdays around here. “It’s just another day,” I say every year. When I was very young, I felt a certain glow on my birthday, but I’ve had enough of them by now that the sheen has worn off the occasion. There are still

Grounding

For a time I watched the moon. Rising, as is my practice, in the wee hours, I stood at the window on a succession of days when the night sky was clear, and grounded myself in its movement and crescent shape that was thinner every day. The cacophony of the world at large, silent. The

Be Loved

I entered the new year wrung out. Empty. With little desire to tend to start-of-the-year things that ordered my days in the past. So I didn’t. in the morning I got dressed in my “daytime pajamas” and leaned in to the meditation of holding my pup in my arms and piecing a jigsaw puzzle. Hour

Boxing Day

I’ve always enjoyed Boxing Day. It’s quiet and low key—a day of books, jigsaw puzzles, and leftovers. This year Boxing and Christmas Days look much the same, but still there is a sense of exhaling this morning. A hint of reflection and intention with a measure of rumination. There are things to do, but not yet.