Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we
There’s a lot of loud distracting and drowning out. But I’m convinced by wisdom clothed in stillness. The kind of truth found hiding in plain sight in ordinary things and extraordinary moments. A word in season. Eye contact. The scrape of a paring knife on a potato. A pile of peels. A man standing at a
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
That I am optimistic enough to attempt to pull together a post for Friday’s Fave Five this week is a statement in and of itself about the lifting of the metaphoric fog I’ve stumbled around in for months. As Martha would say, “It’s a good thing.” So here we go. A pedi. For years, going
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
It’s been one of those weeks where the days all run together. New restrictions mean Gerry is at home unable to hike with his buddies and that’s hard for him. Me, I’m used to staying at home—it’s kind of my super power. But we’ve been intentional about going out for a short while every day
One morning I am captivated by the view outside our bedroom window, and grab my phone to take a photo. The next day I’m struck by the contrast, because snow has fallen and the sky says more is coming. I do it again. On the third day, clouds are low and snow falls soft and
It’s Sunday. We have turned our clocks back and are in the dark months. A few days ago we were out early—leaving home at 6:30 am—for an appointment and I remarked how the quiet streets reminded me of my morning commute when I was still working. Gerry reminded me of what I used to say
Time has seemed to run in fits and starts this week as Gerry and I have been busy making plans and decisions and getting things done. As I sit here early on Friday morning and cast my mind back over the week that was, it is a blur. Trusting that as I put some thought
I’m meeting someone and arrive early in a part of the city that’s familiar in the general sense but less so close up. I park and watch pedestrians, wondering about their stories, until it’s precisely ten minutes before our appointed meeting. A short five minute walk, and I’m there. I wait. And wait. And a
Well, we slogged our way through another week (That’s how if feels. Just keeping it real.). Friday arrives fat with promise and intention to spend a day puttering at home. Seems like another good opportunity to look back at the week that was, because despite the weight that feels so heavy it was rich with