Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
It’s my habit, during the last week of the year, to reflect and set intentions. To make a list of my top ten reads. To choose a word for the coming year. To tidy up files and create new ones. I’ve done some of these things. But mostly I’ve wandered and wondered and tried to put
It’s no secret: I’ve struggled this year, and in recent months the battle has almost overwhelmed. I wrote on my blog yesterday how I felt like I have failed Advent and someone who played a pivotal role in my messed up life decades ago, and who remains a dear friend of my heart, sent me
Today is Tuesday, December 22. We are days away from Christmas and a piece of me feels like I failed Advent. Hope. Peace. Joy. Love. Can I honestly say I’ve leaned in to these things as I intended? Have I lingered in the longing? Or has it been more of a stumbling tumbling season of grasping
A question is posed in a Zoom room: what’s bringing you joy right now? I rack my brain to come up with something—anything—and, when called upon, manage a barely coherent (and, frankly, insincere) reply. The truth is that nothing is bringing me joy right now. I’ve said here before that I’m wrestling with depression. I’m
Once upon a time, around this time of year, we sat in the SeaTac airport sipping coffee and listening to Christmas carols played on a grand piano while we waited for our flight to take us to the happiest place on earth—grand baby land. Then we retired and returned to Canada and, around this time
I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s BEYOND) and write for five minutes about it. It’s one of those words with subtle nuances in meaning, depending on whether it’s used as a preposition, adverb, or noun. This morning, I’m considering it in terms
My vision is blurred . I squint and tilt my head just so, but still struggle to see what I most want to focus on. What comes to mind most often are two words lifted from one of my favourite songs of the season. Words that have nothing to do with holly jolly or jingling
Now it is December. I think I should write something encouraging in these darkening days, but come up empty. I don’t want to wear a mask here, so I speak of the barrenness and trust I’m not alone in the wilderness. I don’t have three steps to find happiness, five ideas to streamline this season, seven
Hope. It’s been a year of hope deferred. If I’m honest, it’s been longer, but this year has been something else. The world, caught up in uncertainty and a host of other things there’s no need to name, is weary. We all feel it to some degree and it’s getting heavy. Really heavy. You tell
I sit down to free write one afternoon. I am tired of thinking about the pandemic. I’m tired of writing about it. I’m weary of its curled tentacles reaching into every aspect of life and leaving a sticky residue. I’ve had enough of the polarization—over the pandemic, but also politics and the best breakfast cereal
I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s GRIEF and write for five minutes about it. The entire world is grieving and, as anyone who has experienced grief knows, there’s no straight line through it. We long for the deep pain we feel to