Next week we will cross from autumn into earliest winter. The darkening nights enfold me and I am grateful for the cool kiss of air that greets me when I wake. The call to deeper rest is not only during the earlier arrival of evenings, but in the low hanging sun in day-sky.
Autumn Newsletter: Footfalls on the Journey--Nature's Call to Be Still
Autumn arrived later than usual in the Pacific NW. It was late October, well after the equinox, before the rains arrived and the temperatures dropped. Mid-October and I was at a pumpkin patch event in short sleeves and it was over 85º. It felt disconcerting. Even the jack-o-lanterns looked puzzled. The fire danger lingered and the multiple fires that were already raging turned our air quality numbers dismal. Sure the days were shortening, offering a respite from the heat, but my memories of times past where not aligning with the present.
Listening to My Mentor Grief: Breathing as a Sacred Act
I dreamed about my dead mother a couple of weeks ago. She was in a retirement home and I was talking to the administrator about signing her up for hospice. This being a dream, it wasn’t going smoothly. I was wandering down hallways and couldn’t find my mother. Finally, I noticed her lying on a couch in a common area with dingy windows and a scattering of tables and chairs. She was wearing a stocking cap the color of coastal fog, a flannel nightdress covering her legs and a turquoise robe keeping her warm. She was facing the back of the couch, but as I approach, she turns toward me. I lower my face to hers and she blows into my mouth and laughs as if to say, “I gave you life once, I can do it again.” I awake startled.
Autumn Stirrings
The shifting of seasons, especially the autumnal equinox seems to stir something in me. Like the winds readying to undress the trees, I felt my summer begin to fall away a few weeks ago. The list of projects, activities, planned hikes and trips to the coast—many were left undone. All seemed attainable as summer approached, then life remained busy, weekends passed and now—October is here.
Unexpected Gifts in Letting Go
"Work"-a new poem offering
Risk
When I was working with my webpage designer, Barbara Keany, we knew what business related pages were needed (i.e. “about,” “services,” “connect” and a “blog” to give the site movement.) As I worked on the content, she offered great advice on layout and design as I had no clue how to enter into this world of social media. I did know what I liked and didn’t like about how other webpages “felt” to me, and that was a guiding principle as the site unfolded on our journey together toward the “launch”. However I also knew I wanted to take a risk and add a page for my “poet self,” this increasingly demanding internal voice that was refusing to sit in the quiet any longer. She has made appearances at other times throughout my life, but not with the same roar and intensity.
