Sunday, September 18, 2016
Monday, September 12, 2016
|My husband and I with Denny in the middle.|
Tuesday, September 06, 2016
Days pass and I think 'I should write today'. And the days keep passing. Didn't I say I was going to write every day? Wasn't I planning to write more while I was on holidays? Didn't I get up early this morning, just to write? And more days pass and the (virtual) page remains blank.
I don't know how to break this cycle. Sometimes I find myself thinking 'you should write about this', and still there is just a blank page. I take the pictures for the post and the blankness persists. I read what others have written and nothing changes.
When I started this blog, I didn't mean for it to be a chore. I wanted it to be natural, just a byproduct of the never ending stream in my head. I thought it would be more organic; I thought I was ready.
I'm not giving in to this lack of spark. I've got to keep plugging away. I have to find a way to encourage myself more. I'm not sure what the key will be, but I know I have to keep searching.
Friday, August 26, 2016
Painted on a highway overpass.
What do these words really mean
What about the painter, did he live free?
I imagine him hitch hiking his way across Canada.
People still do that up here.
We often see them on the side of the number one.
Alone or in pairs, patiently holding their thumb out.
Sometimes they hold a sign scribbled with their destination.
I long to pick one up and hear their tale.
What makes them tick?
What are they so passionate about, that they left it all behind?
Put themselves in harms way to follow the call.
Who can honestly say they live free?
Wise words from a highway overpass.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Am I in heaven?
Sitting in the shade with my dog
Content at my feet.
Listening to the jays jeer and squawk.
The sweet chatter of chickadees to my right.
Then the most transforming sounds from the Jay,
not the racous caw but a gentle coo.
An idyllic scene and I am grateful for this
peace in my day.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
My husband had put on an old Springsteen album in the basement and I could hear it's muted songs in the bedroom. This music had been a soundtrack to my life, and I knew all the words by heart. I lay on the bed in the coolness and I listened to my breath. I struggled to find my focus, find my centre, surrender to my breath. After awhile I felt the slip and I was in. Utter relaxation, a pure peacefulness encompassed me. I lay watching the light swirl inside my eyelids, morphing and rolling. For a moment a thought of "is this bad?", and then in another beat "what if this is good? just let it be."
Not soon after, my eyes were opened and I write this refreshed. I wish the same for all of you.