Living

 Living, is just one single moment.

 

Sit outside and observe. Watch a honeybee during golden hour eagerly gathering some of Spring’s first nectar from happy little dandelions—bright yellow polka dots sprinkled on a carpet of the greenest fescue. Her life, her moments, are hard work done to maintain her hive. Does she know that the world would not exist without her? 

Listen. Listen to life all around you. Birds are singing, you are safe. In the distance, nickering horses bid you good evening. Neighborhood kids shriek with happiness, celebrating their youth. Your best friend barks at a squirrel expertly navigating the canopy of trees surrounding you, because she’s protecting her yard. Such a good girl! 

Dragonflies take advantage of these last moments of sunlight. Up and down, back and forth they go, frantically gobbling up a buffet of gnats, mosquitoes and tiny moths that are swarming overhead. I wish I could watch them in slow motion, set to a lovely piece of classical music. I get lost in the thought of it. 

I find my peace in these present moments. 

Be well. 

Strange Days

Things are strange. Time is accelerating, a loop of rinse and repeat days, invisible G-forces holding me in place while life feels like it’s passing right on by. Another year gone. 

There are lots of things I’d like to do with whatever time I have left, sure, but there is a reliable peace in this Groundhog Day existence that I struggled too many years for, and I’m not ready to give it up. A simple errand can draw peace and patience out like a salve. The World is nothing if not a thief of joy. 

While the unstoppable flow of time rages on, I value these moments, these days, mundane and strange though they may be. 

The Santa Hat

You were sorely missed at Christmas dinner last night. The whimsical Santa hat you once wore, honoring the seat you held at the head of the table,  was both joyful and heartbreaking—our first family gathering since your funeral. 

Everything was the same and altogether foreign. Your car was in the driveway. I half expected to hear you shout, “Hey, get in here!” as we walked through the front door. There was even a football game on, but the room and your favorite chair were empty, your absence palpable. 

Many tears were shed, mostly through laughter, as we all shared memories of you. You would have loved it, you’d have been right there laughing along with us. Part of me believes you were, there, watching over us with that silly Santa hat on, tears in your eyes and a huge smile on your face. 

Miss you Daddy.  

A Winter Nap

The world has been blanketed in monochromatic grey for days, a prelude to Winter’s nap. Some feral part of me wishes I could lose myself in a liminal forest, curl up under fallen leaves of an ancient oak to be reborn come Spring. 

Maybe it’s not feral, it’s ancestral, the Calling of the Bears—a time for rest, reflection and receiving messages from the heart of Mother Earth. I’m grateful for a quiet mind and a soul that stills to listen. What an amazing gift.

  

Coffee with Dad

I was thinking about my dad this morning while I was making my coffee and he let me know he’s still around, see the ? 

Before moving to Birmingham, my daughters and I would come for weekend visits and he would be so happy to share a cup of coffee with me—his wife not being a coffee drinker. 

It would begin the night before, he would prepare his grind and brew coffee machine, set out the Coffee Mate (powder, he was old school), sugar and two mugs. 

We wouldn’t talk much, it being early, sleep still holding on. There was so much warmth in those moments. Our relationship was far from perfect over the years, we had periods of falling out, but there was healing in those quiet random Saturday mornings when it was just me and him sipping coffee together. 

Thanks for joining me for coffee today daddy, I miss you.

It's Not Complicated

A flocked Christmas tree is up in the corner of my kitchen. The warm scent of pecan praline coffee wafts throughout the kitchen. My fuzzy slippers move a bit more slowly in the morning now, arthritic hips and a thirty year old back injury to blame. 

Crows are cawing loudly. It’s a different insistence from their normal fuss. I think, an owl must be nearby, and no sooner had that thought crossed my mind, an owl took flight from her hidden perch through the trees, clearly annoyed having been mobbed so early in the day. I can’t help but smile. 

I don’t let life get too complicated. I prefer keeping things simple these days. Just reading a good book with a cozy blanket and soft ambient jazz in the background hits better than any hedonistic pleasure of my youth. I am living my best life and it was well worth the wait.

In-Between Days

Ahhh, my favorite time of year. Cool, crisp mornings and afternoon skies of crystal clear blue.

Unfiltered November sky

 

These are the days of in-between, no need for air conditioning and just a little heat overnight to keep the chill from settling into your bones. 

They’re the days of cozy sweatshirts and house slippers, of waking slowly with a sweet cuppa coffee in a quiet kitchen, of warming yourself in the morning sun like a turtle on a rock. These are the days nature prepares for her long winter slumber and if you are a keen observer, you will witness this magical transformation—birds and bees, chipmunks and squirrels, trees and plants, all make haste to settle in for the cold days to come. 

These in-between days don’t last long. Soon enough it will be monochrome winter days on repeat, darkness saturating the landscape, every nook and cranny covered by 4:30 pm. I look forward to the days to come.