Too many words

Happy January 2022! Another year beckons, another year awaits, another year welcomes. 

We began the year here in Maryland with unseasonably warm temperatures - taking walks in long sleeve shirts, pulling weeds from the yard, sitting on the porch for a moment...the world appearing to be spring. Then, overnight, a storm front came in and the temperatures plummeted and we are now blanketed in snow -

Are we standing on the threshold of another year of the word   

EXTREME?

That is not the word I intend to focus on this year, oh my, no. 
If that is the word placed upon my shoulders, I will serve up DENIAL instead. hahaha. 

Escape. Hide. Ignore. Read. Write. Hibernate. 

I've been flirting with choosing 'one little word' for this year, and so many words cross my mind. This is always a bit of a wrestle for me. I find choosing one word to be elusive, impossible, both beyond and narrow...not quite big enough and yet overwhelming. How can one little word hold all my hopes and dreams for the time ahead?

I have a daily practice of a 'word of the day' - as revealed by angel cards, a gift from a dear friend a long time ago. This is an inspirational and uplifting ritual, to randomly select a simple word of positivity and see what lens it adds to my day - do I struggle to achieve the word? does it spontaneously appear over and over throughout the day? I often begin my day by journaling into and about this one word.

Don't I need at least one word a day, not just one for the year?

Yesterday morning, as the snow fell, I sat on my bed with a cup of tea and my journal, with the curtains pulled open wide, so I could be an eyewitness to the immersive quiet of the falling wonder. 

Truly, is there anything more delightful than a snow day? This unexpected indulgence of found time?

I had to take a photo:

No, I thought, I need to look closer. So I got out of bed and moved nearer:

No, this is still not enough for me, I must get closer, so I moved all the nearer to the screen:

Oh my, look at my mahonia shrub. It has been unexpectedly transformed - this prickly bush looks so soft and cuddly, almost squishy, like a child's plaything. The gift of snow, letting me see things in new ways.

Wait...what is that? I looked even closer, and took one more photo:

Still paused at my window yet looking even closer,  I discovered that the snow had created almost a path in the midst of the shrubs, a hollowing out, beckoning, inviting...revealing this magical little open space that is not normally there.

Do you see it, too?

This, this, this

is what I want for my year ahead,

to follow embrace manifest expect wander imagine do play go nurture believe pursue immerse pause hope dive linger create unfold reveal connect explore deepen love.

I want to find the ever-present positive, I want to find the light.

I am realizing, it is so easy to name what is painful and hard about life these days.

It is so easy to wallow and complain.

My intention this year is to seek, discover, and observe

the light that surrounds me

even in the midst of all this yuck.

Why not focus on

what is good in the world and bask in this a little bit?

What offers hope?

What joy am I missing?

This year, I seek light and 

strive to share it, show it, shine it, 

whenever possible. 

There's my one little word:

light

Yes, I like that.

Happy new year, everyone!! May blessings abound!

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

Apr30Poetry: Magic happens

I'm trying something new, taking a risk this month - participating in
#VerseLove with Sarah Donovan,
hoping to write poetry every day this April.







Today is, sadly, the very last day of this poetry challenge. I am able to write about anything I desire...and I am filled with gratitude for this experience. I am so thankful to Glenda Funk for letting me know about this writing challenge, and for Dr. Sarah Donovan for hosting this incredible writing experience. This was a beautiful way to shelter-in-place.

Magic Happens

Poetic inspiration,

waiting

each morning,

for me to discover.

An enchanted stone,

glistening,

in the morning light,

for me to hold and rub and ponder

throughout the day.

I let my mind absorb the mystery of the invite,

fascinated, curious, mesmerized,

followed by

space

to wonder.

That’s how magic happens.

April days floated by

alongside, inside, around, between, and about,

inspiration,

tapping something deep within,

stirring me,

nudging me,

stretching me

in new directions.

I have marveled at the journey,

nuggets and insight found,

surprising visits to time past,

traveling to the edge of places I still did not dare to go.

The charm of your comments

finding light and sparkle in my verse, 

hidden messages revealed,

illuminating my writing,

welcoming.

That's how magic happens.

The glow and beauty of your poems,

your openness and revelations,

how they captivated and soothed,

appearing like angels,  

letting me know you, as

loving, familiar spirits.

Your words

carried me to new worlds, 

gave me courage to wander there, too, and

provided a glorious shelter-in-place.

A wonderland of poetry shared by you,

this community of teacher writers,

connecting me to you, you to me

creating a lustrous weaving of 

written dreams. 

That’s how magic happens.

Today,

it is fitting that

there is nothing but grey skies

and so much rain,

tears from nature,
where I am.

I am in mourning

that this month has ended.

I’m on my own now.

Yet, I know,

that’s never really true.

Future mornings,

I will find again

magic stones you left behind,

to hold and rub and ponder.

I will treasure.

That’s how magic happens.