A few days ago, a friend of mine surprised me with flowers and a card with such beautiful and thoughtful sentiments. I was truly touched, and the first thing that came to mind was gratitude…for so many things in my life. So, I’m sharing the flowers with you today and a poem from one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. Her words will give you something to think about…
The Summer Day
Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean – the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down – who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes. Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. I don’t know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Thank you again for all the love, hugs, and prayers. Please know that your kindness means a lot to me. The pain has either been silent or less intense this week; it’s so unpredictable, but I’m starting treatment soon, so I pray it will make a big difference.
Happy Friday, and I wish you a wonderful weekend ahead!There is no way to go but forward!
I had every intention to read blogs this past weekend, to ‘get caught up’ as we all say often. But last week I received a new diagnosis and the symptoms decided to bark loudly instead over the weekend. Concentration was far from reachable, but I took advantage of moments when the symptoms rested, and that’s when I put thoughts to paper in my journal. Please know that my transparency is not for sympathy. If you recall, I shared about a health issue that began last year, well, this is new, but the doctor thinks it’s all connected – ten months later, the big picture has changed. So, below is my catharsis in the form of a haibun (or similar to one with an extra haiku):
Compromised
The rain and wind collaborate for a stormy Sunday. I look through the window, a deluge of raindrops plummet to the street and lawns, and the tall oaks and firs bend unnaturally. Inside, the house feels safe and warm, but this new presence feels like a knife in the gut. What used to be an infrequent timeline is now an everyday visit. What used to be mild is now moderate, or sometimes, severe. A relationship I don’t care to nurture. Pain closes in, becoming more intimate, but not the intimacy that makes my heart skip a beat. No, this type, and where it could lead, paralyzes because fear sidles up beside it. A duo not to be reckoned with. Cancer hasn’t knocked on my door, nor has a death sentence. But the ability to walk long distances or hike on a mountain trail, slips through my fingers like tiny grains of sand.
My body feels broken – not fully – but broken – because my feet and legs take the brunt. I miss the ‘me’ I used to be. And then there is sleep, or lack thereof because of throbbing and/or electric shocks, thieves in the night that rob me of those dream-filled deep slumbers. The persistence is like a doorbell gone wild. Negative thoughts push their way in for the spiraling, mirroring the stormy weather, but my inhale and exhale create a brick wall – blocking them from breaking me more. Although, no easy ‘fix’ heads my way, so each day I struggle to keep hope beside me. Focus on what I can do, they say. I try. Ask questions. Get answers. My mindset waivers, but the support encircling me helps keep my sky blue.
an MRI shows narrowing from wear and tear nerves agitated
he says it’s common not comforting to body spinal stenosis
(I’m exploring all treatment options, such as injections, meds, surgery, physical therapy, etc.)
I don’t know how this week will go or how much time I’ll spend blogging, but I’m hoping for quiet nerves. The weekend was yesterday; today is a new day. I also hope to get answers to many questions this week. Please know that I appreciate you all!
Time is flying, minutes are passing by at lightning speed, the days are staying lighter a little longer, and tomorrow, Wednesday, January 31st, is the last day to vote! Again, thank you to Dagmara and her team for publishing my work. I’m honored to be nominated for this award, and to be among wonderful friends who are amazing writers! As far as I’m concerned, we’re all winners! 🎉🎉
To vote, you’ll need to log in, and I know this can be challenging. But I do appreciate your time, effort, and support! I really do! 🙏
In order to cast your vote, simply clickhere. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! ❤️
I’ll leave you with a poem from my book (the poem from which my book found its title) to guide you through today and days to come.I’ve shared it before, so enjoy for another reading!
Ever So Gently
Sometimes we get lost in our thoughts… losing focus of the stars lighting up the night sky. We tumble too deeply into the frontal lobe, allowing negative thoughts to awaken, to throw a tantrum.
Remember, the breeze carries burdens down rivers and across oceans, majestic trees sway with joy, sheltering from shadows, and the light shines even if only a slight glimmer slips through.
Its glow will grow ever so gently into a bright beacon of hope rising with the golden sun bringing clarity to our vision.
What a surprise I discovered last night to find an email from Dagmara at Spillwords Pressinforming me that I have been nominated for Author of the Year for 2023!
The following nominees for Author of the Year are:
SmithaV Michelle Ayon Navajas Cindy Georgakas Lauren Scott Suman Pokhrel Verity Mason Nial Crowley Vidya Venkataramanan Caroline Ashley Adele Evershed Rob Wilcher Dawn DeBraal Ernie Stricsek
So, this is the time when I ask for your vote, and voting begins today and will end on Wednesday, January 31st. You will need to log in to vote, but all I can do is ask. You may cast your vote by clicking on this link: https://spillwords.com/vote/
This past Christmas,Santa brought me an inspirational journal with some coloring options. I haven’t owned a coloring book in decades, probably since my youth. Maybe I joined in the fun with my kids when they were young. I honestly don’t remember. Anyway, I thought I would give it a try because it sounded relaxing. Well, after the strawberries came to life, my neck began to bark at me. Who knew that coloring could be tough on the body! I sat at the table with my head down, all concentration geared towards keeping the red within the lines. I suppose with any activity, some part of our body will begin to bark sooner or later. So, baby steps, right?
For any goal we set, we begin by taking baby steps. No one starts out at the top. Everyone finds their starting point at the bottom then the climb begins until the destination is reached. This doesn’t mean we won’t stumble, but we will press on. So, I’ll return to this beautiful image, and soon the blooms and leaves will come alive in their wardrobes of oranges, yellows, purples, pinks, and greens. One small step at a time.
So, be kind to yourself, be patient, go slow in whatever you set out to do – believe that you will get there! You know you will because you’re awesome, because you’re YOU!
Even baby steps will move you forward!
The path will shine its light showing you the way. Wear confidence on your sleeve to begin the gift of each new day!
Have a wonderful day and thanks for dropping in to my little corner of blogland! ❤️
The constellations the moon the sun the whispers in the trees the breeze around our faces the waves kissing the shore They all knew before we did…
When we first met, the future gave no intimation as to what it held for us, but what evolved was a love without a finish line, deepening as we basked in each moment spent together.
Thirty-five years ago, I gave my heart to him – He gave his heart to me, trusting, knowing something exceptional was happening.
Whatever path we chose in the past, whatever path we choose in the present, we walk hand in hand facing the unknown, facing the adventures.
His life is built around mine. My life is built around his.
I wrote about how we met here. But how we’ve stayed together is an entirely different chapter in our book. Of course, love is the key component, but the other significant elements that follow love are friendship, unselfishness, wanting each other to be happy, communication, and listening. And though we’ve had disagreements, we’ve never had turbulent fights, nor have we stooped to name-calling. My mother-in-law gave us a card that had sage advice for newly married couples. One piece of advice was never to go to bed angry. We never have. So, we feel proud to reach 35 years, but we also feel fortunate to have found each other to share our lives with, and we hope to celebrate many more anniversaries to come. ❤️
He and I became us.
Thank you for joining in the celebration of our35th wedding anniversary! Have a wonderful week ahead! ❤️
He had just entered the world his body tiny and delicate a bundle needing to be loved His skin darker than theirs but this made no difference Joy danced in their hearts when he became family
but with each passing birthday the skin color confused him, badgering his emotions like poison flowing through his veins causing him to act out in unforeseen ways
their circle was broken when he walked out the door
leaves on the trees changed their wardrobe, falling over and over and over again his silence shattered their world
until he walked through the door realization in his heart realization in his soul embracing them for the love, for the home they gave him
skin color irrelevant they were family reconnected
Just click on the image to purchase your copy, and if you enjoyed this collection, please consider sharing a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Reviews are like hugs. 💚
I am honored to be featured on Brian’s site, writingfromtheheartwithbrian, in the best company of Kym Gordon Moore who authored We are Poetry: Lessons I Didn’t Learn in a Textbook. Kym is a wonderful writer who always has you pondering the deeper meaning of life. If you haven’t met her yet, please take the time to visit her site: frombehindthepen. You’ll be glad you did!
In Brian’s post, he shares his vulnerability while writing about his early tumultuous relationship with poetry. His humor is what I absolutely love about his blog posts. I know he’ll always make me smile – he simply has that gift. Here’s a brilliant example of how he expresses his feelings about poetry, “I would see the poetic beauty of some of my favorite songs, but poetry and I kept our distance. We were like two shy seventh graders at a school dance. I didn’t come near poetry, and poetry didn’t come near me. We kept our eyes on each other, but didn’t dare talk or ask each other to dance.”
And then he read Kym’s book and mine, and his feelings about poetry shifted…
“But, if it’s possible to turn a large team of sled dogs in the Yukon wilderness like old Sam McGee, before his unfortunate demise, then I think there might be hope for me yet. In fact, I have two poetry books I can’t recommend strongly enough: fellow bloggers Kym Gordon Moore’s We Are Poetry: Lessons I Didn’t Learn in a Textbook and Lauren Scott’s Ever So Gently.
A little of what Brian says about Kym’s writing;
Kym reminded me why I love writing and why poetry matters. “We write because we have a story to tell and emotions to express. We are touched and moved in unexplained ways and want to connect with others who experience the same bottled up emotions as we do.”
Kym’s essays remind me that poetry is a personal thing. It’s meant to be taken in and no one can tell us how to feel. We feel what we feel. I read her poem “Like An Eagle I Soar” and felt myself soaring too:
“my strength is renewed, with wings as an eagle graceful, strong, and courageous I take flight to heights I never imagined were possible”
And a little about mine:
I was lucky on two fronts, first to come across Kym’s book and then to find Lauren’s and to race through her book, captivated by her use of imagery and the scenes that she lays out for the reader. I especially found her use of language pulled me deeper into the writing and the nature around us. In her poem “I Wonder” she playfully asks if pine needles “wiggle in delight until they float to the earth.”
I don’t know about other readers, but I read that line and I was hooked. She had my undivided attention. My very adult worries and responsibilities were far from my mind. I was a little kid again looking up at the leaves in the trees…I had to read the next line and the next and the next. She continues:
“I know I would cheerfully slip on my dancing shoes if the sky above me suddenly exploded in vivid oranges as though hope itself pushed through all the debris that I’ve allowed to clutter my mind.“
I don’t know about you, but I can totally relate to Brian’s thoughts. So, to read more and find out exactly what his experiences have been with the written verse, please click on the link below.
And to those who have read our books and shared your reviews, we are grateful. But I’m sure Kym would agree that learning about others discovering little nuggets of our writing that resonate or that they can call their own, well, this knowledge is the truest reward. 💖