Tag Archives: writing

The Darkness of the Morning

I make my way into the darkness of the morning –  it’s 4:20 am.  I have been writing and writing and writing.

In the darkness of the morning, I feel the aura of the unknown. I welcome its mystery.   I reach for my trusty oh-so-classic, weighted-by-its years laptop.   It sits on a pillow on my lap with blanket and cat bordering me.

Cat duties done. Coffee made.  I am here with my blank palette to spout where I may.

What is this luscious landscape I’ve embraced?

I awaken to the force of this new day as I write my first thoughts.

In the darkness of the morning, there is possibility. There is newness – an untapped potential of whatever I wish.

I gaze at the blackness outside the window.


Sip coffee.

Back to writing –

Darkness triggers my mystic. It gives me permission to dive into the parts I treat sometimes as wickedly demonic.   Just write. Let the words be my shelter on this page of a new day.

Again, I look toward the window and notice that the

dark is becoming gray-like.

Coffee is also in the middle ground – lukewarm yet still beckoning me to sip.

I feel my own wholeness in these moments. I am free of judgments and self-critic banter. The page is my partner to this momentary evolution – a discovery trek to acknowledge and articulate the composition of the inside layers of my divine self.

Cat growls.

Time to stretch, meditate, make my daily call to my 94-year-old Mom. We chitchat and talk of nothingness. I treasure her acknowledgment of my voice.  “Hello, Susie.”

The vibration of her voice nestles inside of me.

I hold the sounds of her lingering words ever so gently.

Heartthrobs.  Hands to heart.  Breathe into that feeling of pure mom love.

I know these calls will soon fade.

Just as I know

there will be a new day

every day.






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The Mighty Sea always changing

The mighty sea always reminds me of beauty and turmoil in my life.  Life’s been bumpy what can I say;  however, it’s surrounded by puffs of grace and so much gratitude.

I pulled this photo out this morning and my heart skipped a beat.  I suppose it always does when I am able to view this kind of image through my camera lens.  It reminds me of the layers of my own life and the need for pauses.  Our self-care is ramped up here in our household to balance out the complexities of everyday life.

What is it about extremes I go to when I slip down the rabbit hole and do the internal scream….”Hold on”…or as Mary Oliver so beautifully articulates….”Mend my life.”   Yeah…that pretty much says it all.  The best part is knowing that the bandaids are close by and at any time I can access my internal garden I’ve tended too so much in the past.

As I edge toward summer I wave goodbye to the windy days of spring and the somewhat unsettling times it has brought me.   I’m an evolving modern elder moving into unknown chapters with glee, expectancy and always…the love of the sea.

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Lessons of the Waxing Moon

August Moon 2

I woke up at 3:30 and clearly knew I was being summoned. I found my robe and slippers and made my way with cat companion toward that first cup of coffee.  My laptop and the shimmering moonlight provided the only light I needed to write.

Why was this particular year feeling literally like a new birth – I was in this uncomfortable labor –  another chapter was imminent –knowing I needed to be in the un-comfort zone so transformation can happen.  I shred my thoughts, quirks, fears, and concerns, all on the page via swift movement on the keyboard.

I have been in action mode for most of my life. My work involves service and my art is finding its way to and through that service. The new reality is in the merging of my worlds and trust that is inevitable to be there.

I looked up to witness a veil covering the waxing moon.  I was reminded of yesterday’s insightful thoughts – to be in stillness, allow the silence, the non-movement –sleep, rest – all part of this trajectory of life I have chosen and all serve me as I make my way through the complexities.

My daily writing ritual and the moon’s teaching – its veil symbolizing the acknowledgement to retreat and have patience and trust my discerning movements and choices to be in the void of nothingness. Soon the illuminating moon will be full.

These are gifts of this birthday year.

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Good Morning Mid-January

There’s a momentary pause in the rain. Like space in between the words I write. Voids in the day. To be filled or fulfilled. And really, does it matter?

I walked in the rain last night to catch the bus – I needed the almost-mile walk up the blocks dodging puddles and umbrellas and being in the space to catch manna falling from the sky. My body was in heaven giving me thanks for taking it out to stretch, to move, to feel the impact of water.

I’m hydrating more. Realizing how water has an effect on inflammation in the body – we are mostly water – and how simple to know that this one action we can do helps maintain a sense of well being.
1Solstice shotIMG_0210I feel such a strong sense of home when I am near the ocean.  It took me more than 30 years to discover the sea and now, more than 30 years later, I’m unsure how I would manage without it being steps away.

It reflects the sea inside of me and the enormity of possibility and expansion and solace and comfort. The forces are endless. Like rain on my face, I am continually nourished by its bounty.

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Edging into Winter

As the temps slide down I find myself squirming to locate my nestling spot.  There’s so much to do and be done and it’s the holidays and this and that and and…wait stop.  Take a breath.  Been quite the busy year.  And goodness me, I crossed over to a new chapter…marriage.  My love, my anchor, now borders me in ways beyond comprehension and I find myself smiling inside and out.  And, more importantly, the desire to go deeper…in my work, relationships, service, and at the top of the list, my ART.

Daily I point my camera/ phone at even the simplest of subjects.  I allow the motion to keep pushing me forward and hold the vision a new body of work emerges.  I know I am a vessel and my daily practice is to allow the expansion in its own time. And in the interim I just keep toe-stepping to the dance.

small b road to franksDSCN0541

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Emotional Edginess

gremelins 2_MG_2810

The rooftop gremlins woke us up around 3:40am.  I was in the middle of a dream – appropriate for the disruption.

My love insisted on going up on the roof to survey the situation, returning to say a new neighbor had been locked out and climbed up the fire escape to eventually make her way and her rather inebriated friend’s way to her apartment window.

They took a detour however, and danced above our heads with only the rooftop and what seemed to be a thin layer of plaster separating us.  It was a riveting uncomfortable feeling of invasion.

I thought about how close the edge shows up forcing me to border my life with shoulds and rules.  Not so with my art.  My camera steers in the direction of the usual, the off- beat.  I am led down a path with only my tool and gut to guide me.  Complete trust.

I would like to think that at this stage I am the creator of my own sovereignty.

I can remember sleeping on the rooftop of the Journalism building in college with buddies huddling together to stay warm delighting in our daring attempt to step out of the boundary.  It was a sense of freedom and freeze, upon waking up the next frosty morning.

The roof gremlins eventually disappeared.  I sunk back into my dream only to be faced with a new set of symbols to discern upon my awakening.  But hey, it was Saturday and I was in the safety of the uncharted morning to do as I pleased.





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Sparkle through the January gyrations


Is it still January?  For years I’ve wanted to steal away for the month and return in February.  January brings out all the residual gunk you thought you let go of the previous year.

I powered through the holidays and dove into the New Year and then it kinda took me for several loops and mercury in retrograde reminded me (again) to completely surrender.  My yoga teacher posed a radical thought at the start of class:  “give up your relationship to yourself.”

At the time I didn’t want to analyze this intriguing statement…my body needed to just move into the free flow of shifting my brain chemistry.  Not surprisingly, at the end of class I got it.  Another jarring reminder.  My path is jagged, curvy, strangely creative, loving, frustrating, weird, all of the above and more.  My relationship to myself is solidly accepting just that.  I get that I need all the gyrations.  It makes me real and unique to what I bring to myself and others.  And, like the path photographed above, there’s always some sparkle.

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The Un-Comfort Zone


I prepare to take a walk with my laptop to do some writing at a favorite cafe. I realize the belt holding my jeans up is bugging me.  I take it off.  Much better. Sweet comfort.

I find myself saying “so what” daily — making shifts for others’ mishaps.  By giving up my frustrations I create space for  words that could possibly have a positive impact on others.

The uncomfortable seems to be the norm.

I talk to my Mom whose latest wish at her Residential Center is to have chairs in the lobby with arms.  The arms provide support to the seniors who need that extra push to help them up.  I put out a work order to the universe — senior chair support please.

My second Mom, 85 year-old Renata – confidante, psychologist, fellow journal writer – died several weeks ago.  At her memorial, a young man acknowledged her therapy work for breaking the pattern of future generations in his family — her words shifted the paradigm for his children, his children’s children and the legacy he would leave.  Goodness, I treasured her life. I hold myself gently as I grieve her passing.

I chant daily.  I fall into the vibration of the words and sink deeper.

What matters…people…connection…moving my body…loving in all directions and  having the patience with my art process.

I find comfort in the discomfort and I remind myself to stop, look up and witness the moon.

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