tiny moments (and everything in between)
I have several aha moments. Which might not be aha to anyone other than me, but that’s what makes them the aha moments they are, yes? Recognizable, feel-able, only to me, a popping in my heart. I needed them, was ready, am grateful. It snows at the beginning of the week. To see snow covering the pink blossoms on … Continue reading popping
Pods are hanging from the birch branches, multiplying overnight. What has been bare for months will soon be full, leaves and green-ness and rustlings-in-the breeze. The tulips have finally opened, I exhale. I’ve been holding my breath, fearing they might not bloom this year, perhaps confused by the extreme back-and-forth we’ve experienced these past two months. I’m still feeling … Continue reading righting
There is ice on the deck, the magnolia blooms are turning brown, spring then back to winter, the weather app telling me it will be spring again this afternoon. We’ll see. Back and forth, a game, a folly. I wonder how my neighbors’ magnolia feels, wonder if it hurts or aches, doubt its enthusiasm for this game. I wonder, … Continue reading maybe
I come across a quote that I love. I write it down, again. How many times will I write these words, how long until they’re etched into my being forever? I will write them for as long as it takes. If you attend to yourselfand seek to come into your presence,you will find exactlythe right rhythm for your … Continue reading poetry, blossoms, presence
When I look out the window, it looks wintry, the colors pale, the trees like skeletons. But I’ve seen daffodils along the highway, I’ve seen crocuses on the outskirts of town, the baby daffodils out front are peeking through. Around me, I see hints of the fullness to come. We have what I feel sure is our … Continue reading the bucket
It’s rainy, it’s sunny, it’s warm, it’s cold. I stay inside, go outside, curl up, stretch out. I watch the news, teach yoga, talk to family and friends; I bake chocolate chip cookies and bread. There is dismay, disbelief, connection, creativity, a turning inward while being called to look out. This week holds a bit of everything, it holds … Continue reading wanting more
Suffering is not new. And yet, when the newest wound, the freshest cut, the current scene plays out before me, it comes crashing down, squeezing my heart, knocking air from my lungs, weighing my body down, pressing me closer and closer to the ground, as if to remind me to root into the Earth. Ukraine. The people … Continue reading suffering
The birdfeeder is empty, the suet gone. Yesterday morning, a feathered friend—a woodpecker or chickadee, I can’t remember which—perched itself on the suet feeder, looking (to my eyes) forlorn. I feel as if I’m letting the birds down. I know they’ll find food elsewhere; still, I feel like I need to hold up my end of the bargain: I … Continue reading weaving
I almost cry so many times this week. Poems are finding me. Teachings are finding me. Conversations-at-just-the-right-moment are finding me. Kindness is finding me. I am not looking, but there they are, offering themselves. And so I almost cry so many times. And then I do cry. The air is crisp, the sun gloriously bright. There’s nothing else to say on that account. It … Continue reading melting
I write a list of times that I’ve been brave. I almost don’t write the list because I’m afraid I won’t have anything to write. But, in a moment of bravery, I put pen to page. I write one thing and then another and then another. I fill the page. Maybe I’m brave after all. Early in the week, there … Continue reading brave
Michelle GD 