Winter Newsletter: Noticing Through Shifting Lenses

Spring—it has arrived early in the Pacific NW, at least where I live. Or maybe it is because I walk Joey the Pug twice a day I have time to “micro notice” the subtle changes of the season. And my noticing changes depending on weather, Sun and Moon’s position in the sky, time of day, what I’ve been reading/watching/listening to, my body’s strength (or aches,) Joey and my pace, etc. Slowing down though, has been essential.

Daffodils began blooming in early February. In my likely faulty recollection is it is usually March before they truly bedazzle gardens and roadsides. Winter birds songs have shifted from rehearsal to full-on symphony mode. The House Finches are back flitting from the barely budding Dogwood to the birdbath on my deck and I am guessing nest building is well underway in anticipation of mating season.

Anne Richardson

April 2, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Belonging, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, professional presentation, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Resilience

Everything is Connected: Resiliency, Ambiguous Loss, and Mud

Anne Richardson

April 2, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Belonging, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, professional presentation, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Resilience

Spring arrived in the Pacific NW on the appointed day and week in fine fashion with a few 60º days, rapturous robin songs, crocuses popping out of the ground…and then snow? Not a lot. It soon melted, but it startled. Rain predictably returned. But the mornings have hovered just above freezing, the chill of winter not quite ready to take leave. Spring, like me these days, seems to be struggling to settle into a rhythm. Or maybe the struggle is actually the rhythm with a bit of improv thrown in and if I listen closely enough I can hear the undertones.

Anne Richardson

March 26, 2021

Covid-19, Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Healing, Lament, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, Winter, Workshops, Hope

Lessons from the Pandemic: What Does Hope Look Like These Days?

Anne Richardson

March 26, 2021

Covid-19, Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Healing, Lament, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, Winter, Workshops, Hope

In the Pacific NW come February, early March, we get our annual spring preview. Clouds practice social distancing, the Sun teases us with a splash of warmth and we shed at least one sweater layer as light streaks through the blue expanse. Some even brave laying on the grass—arms, feet and legs exposed. Sure, it will be below freezing in a few days, but the reprieve is luscious. The trees know it is temporary and keep bud tips closed except for the cherries. Their vulnerability is our delight. Sure enough, the rain returns with a winter bite. But the first rain after “preview” offers a promise. As I step out my door and inhale, the aroma of daffodil and daphne odora saturates the air. It is a shift from a winter rain, reminding me of when Grief makes that shift from deep, early loss. The pungent scent has traveled in the droplets. Little Hope sacs splashing at my feet.

Everything is Connected: Resiliency, Ambiguous Loss, and Mud

Lessons from the Pandemic: What Does Hope Look Like These Days?

Subscribe

Get in touch

For Individuals

For Professionals

Labyrinth

Helpful

Social