Can you possibly imaginea gentler sky… to accompany a silent(although never so)morning’s meditation in the gardena walk under billowy puffs of cottonever so slowlyclosingin the morning feels as though I am notas far out of theditch I’ve been travellingas I…
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Today I am annoyedwith myself… as much as anyI am annoyed by my handsfingers that won’t uncurl, as they shouldone on each hand, that then get caught on thingsand others thathurtthe morning’s headache andthe tightness of myjawI can palpably feel…
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It is enoughto stand in the gardenunder overcast skies, heavily cloaked ina pale, palegrey still moving absolutely nothingbutone’s eyesslowly taking in each sightthe delicate and theboldbreathing deeply (as one can)and wondering if it is possible totune inand hearthe bees gathering…
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Today in recognitionof the mighty thistle I am currently carrying with me,on theinsidea ba-a-a-a-ad mooda prickly sort of crustthat I can feel, tightin my jawinternally, from about the ribcageuplike a potabout to boil over warning flares have been sentmostly to…
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One of my very favourite times of the morning,sitting outside by the pond,coffee and conversational ‘catch-up’with my lovewatch one single puff of whitesail slowly across a pale blue skyquite contentedly sinkdeepinto the pagesof arather wonderfulbookjust as the sun rises high…
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This morning the sky begins inbluebut rather quickly is blanketedin the fluffy white-nessof a slightly cooler but,neverthelessbeautiful day the garden, in its summer gloryhas received so much rain latelyit looks to be sittinglush andlow due to a falling tree last…
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My current reading andmightread nextpile where I have not spent nearly enough timewith the first book, Surrenderand it really is so very goodbut also, where I am always looking forwardto thenextone and ways in which the two of thesefirst two…
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This morning,I’m thinking about the transitionfromsoup to saladthen back againspring weather being what it isanother cool wet startgrey clouds with small surprising breaksof brightlight first thing the only digits that will moveon sore handsarethumbseverything else is curled in tight eventually…
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Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.~ Karl A. Menninger The nature…
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I’ve been reading a terrific bookabout circumstance, homelessnessstrength, endurance andin the end, theone foot in front of the other kind ofwalkingalso, the healing nature ofnatureand of love as I read, I have felt myself to a muchmuchlesser degree, struggling alongthrough…
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