Sanctifying the Ordinary
Sanctification: making sacred. Sacred is an anagram for scared. We are often scared of the sacred. We are scared because we have not been...
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meditation meets writing on the page
Blog Archive
Feb 1, 2019
Playing With Fire
In honour of the festival of Imbolc, which honours Brigid, the Celtic goddess of fire and the hearth. (Last year’s Imbolc post here.) I...
Nov 30, 2018
The Call Of The Jay
The call of a blue jay never fails to transport her to that moment in time, instantly, to a moment so many years past that she’d actually...
Oct 25, 2018
Not A Breeze
Silence, deep silence, not a breeze My step on the floating dock the only ripple Cascading along the still surface of the lake. A loon...
May 10, 2018
Time Is Not A Line
Time stretched and bent around her as she sat. She’d been sitting in this chair by the door for some time. She’d been sitting in this...
Apr 26, 2018
Haiku: On The Road From Here To There
Immortal Duck Immortalized in terrycloth, Marble bathroom counter Patiently waiting: origami duck Photo credit: Copyright © 2018 Tunde...
Apr 19, 2018
An Ordinary Late Winter Afternoon
If only she hadn’t brought the damn dog. All the old farmers would tell you, always leave the dogs at home. But they were stupid, so so...
Apr 13, 2018
And The Diamonds Danced
She sat quietly, breathing in and breathing out, breathing in the sharp-sweet-bitter-slightly-sulfurous tang of seaweed and of salt. She...
Apr 5, 2018
Conclusion: Till The Cows Come Home
[Continued from post of March 22, 2018] 1. Dream Boy I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, thought Dream Boy. Those stupid cows have gone all...
Mar 29, 2018
They Thought There’d Be More Time
They knew death was coming. Eventually. Maybe even soon. But none of them knew Death well enough to know how soon, and so it took them by...
Mar 22, 2018
Till The Cows Come Home
1. Molly Molly peered cautiously over the fence. She turned her huge head one way, then the other, muttering to herself as one of those...
Mar 15, 2018
On The Shores Of Her Heart
She sat and sat and sat, waves of regret crashing on the shores of her heart, waves depositing the flotsam and jetsam of her broken life...
Mar 8, 2018
Haiku I & Haiku II, Irritated Ducks
Irritated Duck 1 Irritated duck, snarking Raucous splashing, the chase is on Spring comes to the pond Irritated Duck 2 Irritated duck,...
Mar 1, 2018
It’s How The Light Gets In
She sat and sat and sat, carefully sifting memories like sand, memories of a seashore much like this one, floury silky white sand, those...
Feb 22, 2018
To See The Sky, A Little Longer
She was dying. Not in the abstract, someday way of all of us, not in the slow and inexorable plodding way of terminal illness, but NOW,...
Feb 15, 2018
Home Is Where The Heart Is
[Continued from last week’s post] Last week I wrote that Jack and I have figured out how to make ourselves at home in many different...
Feb 9, 2018
There’s No Place Like Home
On my very first trip to British Columbia, I stopped off in Vancouver to change planes for my flight to Victoria. I looked out the window...
Feb 1, 2018
Silent Imbolc Eve
The last dying light of the day and the world is utterly still. A bubble of absolute silence within and underneath distant traffic noise....
Jan 25, 2018
Abiding
Late afternoon. She’s feeling twitchy and she doesn’t know why. Actually that’s a lie. She knows exactly why. It’s that time of day when...
Jan 18, 2018
Haiku I & Haiku II, Florida Cold Snap
Haiku I: Cold Ice running through ancient veins Spiky backbone, prehensile claws, immobilized Iguanas dream of sunshine <img...
Jan 11, 2018
There’s A Light
She sat and sat and sat, silent to the point of aphasia — not so much that she couldn’t speak, more that she was so deep down the well of...
Dec 28, 2017
Kindness Practices To Get Things Done
I’ve struggled my entire adult life to Get Things Done. It’s not that I’m ever really idle, not really. Even when it looks like I’m doing...
Dec 14, 2017
Twilight Miasma
In the timeless twilight between sleep and waking, words are eaten alive, no rational thought escapes, life itself stands still, quietly...
Nov 30, 2017
How I Do Self-Compassion
To pick up where we left off last week: For me, the real deal about being kind to myself is all about being in touch with my own true...
Nov 23, 2017
Beyond the Bubble Bath
“To thine own self be kind.” I mean REALLY TRULY kind. I mean radical kindness, real, radical self-compassion. The kind of kindness that...
Nov 9, 2017
In response to “Negative Emotions Are Key to Well-Being”
I’m doing something a little different today to honour my (recent) commitment to post on Thursdays: reposting something I posted on...
Nov 2, 2017
Fish Out of Water
She stood at the counter in her tiny kitchen, frozen in the act of skinning ocean perch fillets for Brazilian fish stew, frozen by memory...
Oct 26, 2017
The Trouble with Silence
The trouble with silence is that it’s so hard to find. And because it’s so hard to find, we’re so not used to it. It makes us...
Sep 30, 2017
Three Meditations on Light on Water
1. FROM A WRITING RETREAT THIS SUMMER Shimmering like white starburst fireworks, sun on gentle waves. Air is still. Calm before the...
Sep 21, 2017
Bees, Late Summer Afternoon
She sat and sat and sat. This time, it was a good thing, because she’d actually gotten up out of the the chair by the door and was now...
Jun 2, 2017
In My Bones
Surrounded by emptiness, always, surrounded, bounded, filled with emptiness. I used to feel empty all the time. So I filled up with booze...
Apr 16, 2017
Staying in touch – why is it so hard?
I know I keep saying this, but this time – this time – will be different. I’ll do better at staying in touch. I will. I will. But the...
Apr 2, 2017
Don’t ask what you can do
Don’t ask what you can do. They can’t tell you, because they don’t know. Don’t say, if there’s anything you need, just let me know. They...
Feb 1, 2017
Haiku at Morikami Japanese Gardens
Haiku #1: Hopeful Gator Ancient hooded eye Turtles splayed on sunny rock Jaws open, one less turtle Haiku #2: Hopeful Egret Hopeful egret...
Oct 25, 2016
The Pavement Ends at the Outhouse
We lived on a dirt road in a remote rural part of the country. It was an election year, so they were paving as many roads as they could...
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