a warm little bliss list….

January 28, 2012 By 33 Comments

I’m joining my joy with Liv’s little bliss list…… sweet somethings that have us all grinning and giddy
this week:

~Sunshine……mounds of the golden stuff,
warm and comforting,
buttery grilled cheese for my soul.

~appointment with a gifted nutritionist,
a generous gift from a gorgeous soul,
new supplements already peeling back fatigue,
and I’m feeling less Winnie the Pooh.

~trekking miles and miles,
sweet wild rambles with friends
through shimmery woods.
and each day,  sunshine joined us.  Happy sigh.

~Refurbished some of last season’s Valentines
and printed on rosey specked recycled paper
with new envelopes in fresh delicious shades of color.

which got me to thinking about hearts and all the ways they get broken, sick, heavy, cold and hard
and WILDLY grateful for all the ways Love can heal, restore, warm, lighten and lift them.

~velvety rich heartshare with youngest son while playing
ping pong.
(so, yes, the new table IS totally worth the space it takes up)
Absolutely.

~Hearing my older son’s voice on the phone
from Afghanastan
for the first time since Christmas day
…..still full up from that beautiful, beautiful sound.

~A Spring-like thaw has me outside in T-shirts,
sunkissed freckles out of hibernation
and I know
it needs to go cold again,
to freeze deep the bulbs and bugs and let Winter happen
but
  this has been a dazzling intermission
and I’m wallowing in every sweet minute of it.

~Sunshine.  Did I mention the sun has been shining it’s big warm heart out?

Bliss List

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Like the color purple….

January 23, 2012 By 31 Comments


Winterness can make my belly go cold,
a snoozy fog rolling  in heavy
can steal away vision,
till I feel stuck and sick and sad
faking me out of joy.

Yeah,  the gray can take me
unless I tend the fire in my belly.
And so I light candles and squeeze radiance into my tea
and slowly slice thin ribbons of kale into soup,
and drizzle thanks over everything
like sweet raspberry jam.

And I have to get my legs free…..move them like the light depends on it,
and dig for bright unexpecteds
(like painting cabinets with blackboard paint)
hidden like precious truffles
and hold them warm to face
and sniff them deeply
inhaling the moist creative breath of Love
until it shimmers me awake
like mystic steam rising from morning mug.

And yesterday’s grace….. The Color Purple on stage,
deep medicine for my soul
rich powerful words that I can’t stop singing,
won’t stop until I sing my heart wide open:

“I believe I have inside of me everything I need
to live a bountiful life
with all the love inside of me
I’ll stand tall as the tallest tree
and I’m thankful for everyday that I’m given,
both the easy and the hard ones I’m livin’
But most of all I’m thankful for loving who I really am.
I’m beautiful.  Yes,  I’m beautiful.
And I’m here.”
(- I’m Here,  from the musical score of The Color Purple)

No matter how cold your fingers and toes
how tired your eyes, how sleepy the sky
and hard your feet against frozen ground,
stoke the fire inside tummy-to-summer-sand toasty
……keep your belly warm.

“Like the color purple
where do it come from?
now my eyes are open,
look what God has done.”
(from The Color Purple)

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Dusting off dreams…

January 15, 2012 By 42 Comments

As I turn to leave my forties….one backward glance goodbye,
my eyes land on some dreams gone stale,
dusty heartcries and old glue pressed onto memory board,
edges curled and faded,
calling,  drawing me near
like a warm fire burning,
come and remember

Run your heart-fingers across this field of dreams,
of grapes kissed ripe by sunshine,
barefoot ballerina and deer drinking deep from stream,
of smooth stones stacked sturdy,
joyful fingers shaping clay,
building a place to heal and thrive and play.


Dust off the dreams of digging my life,
of hands held, seeds scattered and paths of peace,  grateful and wild;
of the paint-speckled girl turning cartwheels,  wind and clover in her hair
turned loose
and big results with little things,  simple and balanced and free,
of letting love flow…..getting out of the way.

Air out the dreams,  crisped fresh again,
of riversongs,  shamrocks on white icing
and the feel of cool bark on my tree-hugging face,
of windows rolled down on wide open road,
calm, unhurried thinking,
and for my art to make a difference….for my life to be my art,
hands in the air,
deeply alive and in love.
Dream it strong…..I dare you.


It’s my birthday!
I’m ready for a new decade(and taking that dare).
I’ve dusted off some dreams-gone-stale and am letting them mess with me
in a wonderful way.
And hey,  if you lived next door,  I’d skip to your door and invite you out to play
and there would be cake
and I’d share the wishes
and we’d take down the candles together:)

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decade of delicious disappointment…

January 7, 2012 By 35 Comments


Hello,  final week of my forties,
these last sips of a deliciously disappointing decade;
farewell to a beautiful battering,
the breaking down of fairytale ideals.
You shook and sifted my heart
until I began to see
the real stuff that dreams are made of.

It was a brave decade  of bold moves
and chilling changes,
swing and a miss….repeat,
swing and a miss,
striking out,
again and again
and I celebrate this.

I swung my heart out,
the hollow silence screaming back at me
like a noisy mockingbird prattling on about
trying harder and getting stronger
and then something  sweet and tender and true
in the whoosh,  whoosh,  whooshing
began soothing my soul sorted and saved
from some “isms” driving me to despair.


All that swinging and missing stirred up such a breeze
…the wind of my failing  singing me free
and now at last I’ve come to believe
that I am
not my swing.

The crack of the bat that I’ve longed to hear,
the sight of the ball sailing high and clear,
the cheer of the smiling faces in the stands
…that roar doesn’t fill me.

There is a roomy space instead for the blue of the sky,
the kiss of the sun soft on my face,
the deep whiff of fresh wild air
and
I’m leaving my forties fairly sure
that I’m loved still.
for just who I am
and it’s enough…I’m enough.
And this is pure gift.

In a few days I’ll be fifty and I’ll  swing away
for the sheer joy of it…..because I get to
and it’s good.
And whether I hear the sharp sweet crack of the bat
or sing of the breeze,
I’m grateful for another day to be dazzled
by the simple glory of just being me.

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