In my April Note last week, I shared a quote. I wrote that this quote was staying with me, playing over and over in my mind. This is still the case, the playing over and over, so I thought I’d share the quote here too. We are not feeling our feelings in order to get rid of them. We are … Continue reading As We Are
Words of now. Freshly showered. Pink shirt. Brown sweater, wool. Pup. Out, in. Music (Christmas, because). Tender. Content. Wondering. Windy. Clouds. Some blue. Hungry. Quiet. Candle, not lit. Yarn. Gift. Desk. Clutter. Treasures. Ring. Circle. Questions. Confusion. Possibility. Hope. Love. More love. Waiting. Connection. Hesitant. Confident. Digging deep. Books. Poetry. Words. These words. Heart. Stretch. … Continue reading It Begins with Freshly
Sometimes Mondays look like cosmos (plucked just for me) (by my favorite girl in the whole wide world).
I want to write and my hand is still.I want to photograph and my camera rests in place.I want to blend and I stand out.I want to eat mindfully and I am mindless.I want to feel rested and I am tired.I want to be patient and I am discouraged.I want to move forward and I … Continue reading I Want…
I was searching lyrics the other day, looking for inspiration. I landed on Where Is The Love? by Black Eyed Peas. Can you practice what you preach? And would you turn the other cheek? I listened on repeat. I copied lines into one journal. Printed/cut/pasted lines into another. Man, you gotta have love just to set it … Continue reading Where Is The Love?
Sometimes Mondays look like a lazy pup and rain rain rain.
Sometimes Mondays look like candlelight.
My cosmos bloomed late this year. Like really late. Like last-week late. All summer long, the zinnias have been incredible in their reds – oranges – creams – yellows – bright pinks – light pinks – deep pinks. The cosmos though? Tall feathery stalks with not a single bloom. Not one. Until last week. … Continue reading All In Good Time
Sometimes Mondays look like the autumn sedum doing its autumn thing.
I’ll tell you why this isn’t a contest. Because I don’t care. Don’t contestants need to care, need to have a vested interest in order to actually compete? It’s not that I don’t care about anything, because I do (oh, I do) – but I don’t care about being better than you or being perfect (whatever … Continue reading Contests (or Living)