I’m sitting in the den having conversation with the Divine when I hear my neighbour’s truck rumble to life. I glance at the clock; it’s still early. Too early for many. He is returning to work after the holiday and I’m tending to the first business of the day under my blanket in the silence
Today is one of my favourite days of the year: Boxing Day. Even when we lived in the US where it isn’t observed, I took the day off work and spent a quiet day at home. Boxing Day is an exhalation. The pressure to manifest something festive is released. We can stay in our pajamas all
One week from today, in seven short days, we’ll wake on Christmas morning and the waiting will be over. Nope. We’ll continue to wait because that’s how we’re built. There remains on the distant horizon a treasure of something we anticipate touching one day. Waiting is part of life. We might as well get comfortable
The sun shone a few days ago. It was noteworthy because it’s been gray so we packed up our cameras, grabbed some coffee, and went for a drive. It was glorious. We talked, looked, and didn’t click the shutters on our cameras once. No matter. The sunlight did what it does so well. It revived
I feel myself to be in a middle place, a place of waiting. It’s uncomfortable, like there’s the tiniest pebble in the bottom of my shoe and I can’t quite shake it out. There is both restlessness and stirring. We are, of course, in the season of advent in which we wait and prepare our
Today is the last Sunday in Ordinary Time. I’ve felt a tug toward Advent for weeks and yet there is wisdom in remaining in this season we call ordinary. This morning I read familiar words in the psalms: Be still and know. We quiet ourselves and rest in assurance. We remember seasons in which we
Somehow it’s the middle of November. Fog blankets my piece of the world and it’s beautiful and silent. I sit at the window and watch it do nothing but hover and think it is the wisest of all the things that jostle for my attention. Soon it will be winter but for now we live