Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
And . . . it’s raining. It’s a strange summer that’s unfolding. I spend time organizing my manuscript, my writing paraphernalia, and recipes because I’m setting intentions in the kitchen too. I’m letting the book rest for a few days, anticipating an opportunity for concentrated focus time soon, and the opportunity to putter at home
Summer’s back. I printed out the fourth draft of Presences of Absences, bought new colourful highlighters, flags, and post-it notes, and am heading into a different season of writing and editing away from the computer. Perfect timing. Because it’s time to sit on the deck and watch the finches, and on the grass in front of
I’m still thinking about seasons, and the unexpected rewards and challenges that come with change, and something I read in my morning meanderings gives me pause. Contentment. The word seems bolded in the essay but the emphasis is in my mind alone, and I realize I’ve drifted and need to correct course. Trust. That’s another one,
I’m road tripping. My phone is loaded with podcasts and I’m listening to wise words and thinking deep thoughts in the sanctuary of my Ford Escape. Sometimes I turn the audio off, listen to the silence and let wisdom saturate. I’m free. Constrained by the vehicle, and gravity, and other natural laws that keep me
Empty, and hungry for words, I troll the waters and snag some sweet ones with a description of a field in February that delights. And I remember leaning over flowers in a courtyard little more than a week ago, and one of the images I captured then that might pair nicely with the verses. And I
I spend some time, in the first week of a brand new, shiny year, scribbling down intentions—a Rule (or Rhythm) of Life, if you will. It’s not complicated, just a line or two about my most important work, and a handful of bullet points to serve as a rough map for the journey. A single hand-written
I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine. Emily Dickinson “I have the most amazing news.” My granddaughter has shared a lot of amazing news with me over the course of her nine years. Her