wherewithal

“A person is a fluid process, not a fixed and static entity; a flowing river of change, not a block of solid material;
a continually changing constellation of potentialities, not a fixed quantity of traits.” 

― Carl R. Rogers, On Becoming A Person

I would love to think of myself as a “flowing river of change” - but man that is hard. So fixed in my ways, I feel it just might be impossible. But, I also feel the clicking of the clock, and understand it is now or never. Lately I have been I allowing myself to imagine a life a bit different, a life where I give more space and time to the cravings and curiosities that churn deep inside of me. I have been exploring how this might look, dipping my toes into some of these changes and I think there just might be a glimmer of hope that some of these visions just might surface, before I run out of time.

I tell myself I have the wherewithal to do this.
I tell myself the only one stopping me is myself.
I tell myself I still have time.

unfolding fall

“I would love to live like a river flows,
carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.” 

― John O'Donohue

I head out one day to a nearby park hoping to find a few signs of fall. The sun is out and the sky is blue, and I can see that a few leaves are just starting change as I pull in into the parking lot. It is a gentle shift, subtle signs among the green of summer’s end, making the transformation of fall’s advancement, more noticeable. I ask myself how many photos I need to take of the brightly colored leaves scattered here and there, and then let the question wane. As many as I want I decide as I carry on, letting go of any expectations I might hold other than allowing myself the joy of the beauty and quiet that surrounds me.

uneventful everyday . . .

"There are signal moments, burst of excitement, times of dislocation and distress, buried within long stretches of uneventful everyday. . .
They create a blanket of real life, woven day by day until the thing is all of a piece."
~ Anna Quindlen, Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake

uneventful everyday . . .

These two words drift around inside my head for a few days, helping me better understand what it takes to make a life piece by piece. Some of it bold and exciting, some of it painful and confusing. But the act of piecing it all together is always a privilege and I am going to pay a little bit more attention on how I assemble mine.

fall walks in

“When you’re young you prefer the vulgar months, the fullness of the seasons. As you grow older you learn to like the in-between times, the months that can’t make up their minds. Perhaps it’s a way of admitting that things can’t ever bear the same certainty again.” ~ Julian Barnes, Flaubert's Parrot

The intentions of summer 
slip away,
quietly and with dignity. 
The cool nights find us reaching for more blankets,
rather than closing the windows
on the cool breeze which finds its way inside.
We wake, covers pulled up to our chins,
and are dismayed when suddenly 
our days don't seem long enough.

Sudenly the TV is back on,
and we sit and try to give it our full attention.
a blanket wrapped around our legs,
the dog curled up between us.
We watch as fall walks gently towards us
getting ready to put on her show.
and soon we will settle in with books and popcorn,
as the glow of the fire warms us.
We will open our hearts and savor the new season, 
and all it has to offer, giving gratitude that we are here,
once again, to participate.  

moving my feet

“The camera’s not a camera, really. It’s an open door we need to walk through. It’s up to us to keep moving our feet.”

— Joe McNally

I suspect the yellow flower is a weed, taking up residence
among the roses
the spider wraps up one of its own in tiny strands of silk,
before delivering the fatal bite
vanilla syrup for my morning latte and nectar for the hummingbirds,
cool in the morning light of the kitchen
I take my cues from what moves me, all of it connected
in my own secret way.