The dictionary describes magical as ‘beautiful or delightful in such a way as to seem removed from everyday life’. Recently, I’ve allowed the magical to slip back into my life.…
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This week I disappeared down a rabbit hole of reading and research. I began my week planning to write a blog post about seeking our true north…
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I went to bed the other night looking forward to waking up to a blanket of snow. I drifted off to sleep feeling much like Pooh, anticipating that first taste of honey…
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I wasn’t going to write about Valentine’s Day today. My husband and I don’t ‘do’ Valentine’s Day. I find the line-ups of men buying cards and flowers at the last minute depressing. Love should be expressed every day, with an embrace, a kind word, or a loving smile…
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See the quilt in the photo? I began that quilt for myself 20 years ago. When did I finish it? Last week! Finally! After years of making lap quilts, baby quilts, and bed quilts…
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Thursday was National Hug Day, a day to hug family, friends, or strangers – but for most of us, it was not a hugging day. Some of us are blessed to have at least one person in our lives to hug, but too many have no one to hug right now.
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My mind was swirling with thoughts and ideas this morning but I didn’t think I had it in me to sit down and write a blog post. I find this a bit puzzling because I have spent the week planning, researching, and creating. I’ve been organizing my writing workshops for the year, working on a free give-away for my blog subscribers…
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Do you sometimes let go of your noisy mind and sit in stillness? Or maybe, during a simple chore like ironing, you allow your head to empty of all thoughts and you just focus on the task at hand. Would you be surprised to know that at that moment you were practicing mindfulness?
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I am sharing my blog post a bit earlier this week, as the year winds to an end and quietly slides into 2021. Winter solstice may mean the start of longer days but for me, it signifies a time to hibernate…
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What books do you turn to when seeking spiritual inspiration or support? This is a question I ask the women participating in Women Rowing North: Writing Our Life Stories in week five…
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Earlier this week I was on the phone with a friend, feeling a deep sadness as she shared some of the challenges she has been facing this last month. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a slight movement in the backyard…
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The sky was still dark when I woke up this morning to pull the quilt, hanging off the end of the bed, over the two of us. I knew by the chill in the air that the temperature must have dipped below freezing during the night…
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Hugh MacLennan and Louis Dudek, professors of mine in the late ‘70s at McGill University started me on the habit. And no wonder! MacLennan, in his early 70’s at the time….
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I am curled up next to an adult – a parent, or grandparent – I’m not quite sure. I am about 4 years old, listening with deep concentration to a story about a tiny family living in the walls of a house…
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Four years ago today, I was sitting on my hotel balcony in Marrakesh, enjoying my last Moroccan sunrise as I listened to a muezzin proclaim the adhan, the call to prayer…
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Last week I began facilitating a new Women Rowing North: Writing Our Life Stories series, my first private group with six lovely women from Deep River and Toronto, Ontario who have a web of connections between them…
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Earlier this week I shared Parker J. Palmer’s quote, “I am lost in the sadness and madness of the world.” And no wonder – with news stories of the rapid spread of COVID; headlines of beheadings and terror attacks; and only a fleeting mention of a schoolyard massacre in Ethiopia…
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Many years ago when my babies were fussy, I would hold them tight and sing Elvis Presley’s song, “Are you Lonesome Tonight.” I would sing the same words over and over again in a soft, crooning voice. Maybe not a typical lullaby, but it would calm them…
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Despite the anxiety it causes, I am a last-minute person, fueled by deadlines. It has taken me years to realize that this is a schedule that works for me. I’ve tried to change. I’ve bought umpteen planners…
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My world is very quiet these days. I expect yours is too. Last night I stood on our island deck and there was not a sound to be heard. No cars, planes, or cargo ships passing through Georgia Strait. No tree frogs, owls, or rustling leaves – even the crowing rooster on the neighbouring farm, whose internal clock is out of whack, was silent.
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