May 2026

 With all that's going on in the US of A and the world, 

it's been a time of holding on for dear life. 

                                        It's what we can do. This...and remembering to connect 

                                                            with community and loved ones. 

It's difficult to hold so much loss and confusion 

while balancing against even a blue sky,

yet the vastness offers itself, and in these peaceful moments, 

it's good to know that love is King.

And Queen. And all the kings' horses and birds and more. 

Love is THE way! xo

April 2026

Song makers settled on the blackberry canes

between thorns and sunshine, precious was

the word that came to mind and heart and

as they opened their shiny beaks, I felt the 

song between my bruised ribs, all week 'the

cough' hung to my chest wall, crushed my 

breath and still I sang along with the birds, 

and survived to witness the simple beauty

and joy of it all. And who am I for this?  xo

 

March 2026

 

Don't say it. Not again. The in like a lion, like a race horse, like a broken shelled creature, like there's no tomorrow. Or yesterday. Like you aren't sleeping, aren't well.  Don't remind me of the friends who finally cut loose, or the sisters who no longer call or care. Don't say time heals. Take off your black cloak, it's magic or mystical, don't tell me about the unknowns you carry in your pockets, place on the bedside table. Don't say the sky is falling, or looks like a famous painting. Don't ask me to look away. xo

February 2026

Yesterday, during a three-hour online Mystical Memoir workshop, the invitation given was to write in response to several prompts. One being: Before I Die. And another: Since You've Been Gone. Loved ones lived in the ink I pressed to the pages. Later, in the morning, I accidentally spilled half a glass of water onto my desk, and my words spread and blurred. I cried some more. Tenderness was the word I latched onto as I wiped up the mess and placed the soggy papers on the floor to dry in the sunlight. This morning, as I turn the calendar page on my desk, I notice this, too, had been touched by the blur, and so I took it as a sign to soften. I turned down the light, took the offered cup of tea in my hands, and blew across the surface while making a wish. It's the same wish I often make, but it's a new day...xo

January 2026

 January 2026

And just like that...a turn of

of the page, a turn of the head.

Here's to seeing the beauty in

the smallest moments, in the simple things

 in front of our eyes, and the loved ones

we may or may not be in touch with:

yet the ones who we share memories

and love with. May we hold one another

in peace and LOVE. xo

December 2025

 

December 2025

It's sometimes difficult to feel how time moves on. Gramma Annie used to say it meant you were healthy and happy. When you weren't feeling well or were in a lonely spell, time seemed to slow down. I'll take healthy and ease, joy and wonder over angst any day. But the magic trick is to pass goodness on to others. There are so many folks living on the streets or in their cars. The woman who lives on the sidewalk near our house sometimes rants in a husky, wild voice, but mostly she seems to sleep. I've gifted her woolen socks and hot French Fries, but these are so very insignificant. She has eyes almost the same color as mine. She was once somebody's child, perhaps a sister, or a mother. 

She was once a miracle, and I imagine she still is. xo

November 2025

 

A lone heron took watch over the sea lions; round males

with their hoarse barks, whistles, groans, and big splashes, 

while the women rolled through the water like water itself, 

a slight ruffle on the surface. Other birds arrived in Noyo Harbor

to witness the ways in which the colors of the morning 

shifted and the sky opened onto itself. And I sat with my love 

on a deck overlooking what can only be thought of as 

magic and beauty, with a heart full of thanks. xo