Showing posts from 2019

Sharing the Creative Genius

I haven't posted anything in awhile. Leaning into my favorite post-Robbie mantra, "Don't should on yourself," I am simply stating a fact, not beating myself up over that fact.

Life is busy.

Retirement...HA! Those gray dots on the Google calendar? Good thing there is only one per day and not per event. I would need a full room sized screen to hold all of my upcoming dots. All good, by the way, even the (stupid) doctor appointments and the like. Get checked people! Take care of yourself or you cannot take care of others and/or the other fabulous things you want to do with your days. *stepping off soapbox for the moment

Last week, I was lucky/blessed to lead the 2019 RCWP Writing Retreat.
It was the second summer of this retreat, as I became the RCWP Writing Events Coordinator after retiring from teaching June 8, 2018. 😁 Leading events similar to this is one of my main goals now that I am officially no longer teaching. This year...indescribably powerful interactions a…

The Evolving Monster of Grief

The Evolving Monster of Grief
From Second Glance, Jodi Picoult, page 303
“He imagined that no matter how it came about, losing a child was something that you kept coming back to, like the hole in your gum when you lost a tooth or a scar you’d worry with your fingertips-a disfigurement that you felt over and over.”   

Losing a child, something that so many people have written about, and some have been able to give me a moment or two of comfort, empathy. Losing a child is the event that a parent is forced to come back to, over and over and over again. Not because we want to remember the loss, but because we have no desire to forget the love that causes that “hole in your gum”. If only it were in the gum. The loss, instead, is deep inside our hearts.
Losing a child isn’t anything that can be described to another person, not even someone who is, unfortunately, in the same club. Every person’s loss is his or her own monster. Every day is its own mountain of pain and memories to climb …

Dreamy Longings

Dreamy Longings  Locked in her dream, she knew better than to fight it. She had been here before, but something felt different this time. She could feel him here, just beyond her reach. If she rushed, she would wake up again without seeing him. The scenario had played out too many times for her to doubt at least that much; so, she forced her body to go quiet, stilled her beating heart, closed her eyes, and let the mist swirl around her without fear.
When she opened her eyes, she was outside, the foggy dream mist blanketing the greening grass of her front yard, rising and falling amongst the leaves of the two large maple trees, spreading out over the landscape. Pulled by an invisible force, she moved forward, and the smoky covering swirled away to expose her mailbox. She didn’t want to reach inside, but she felt helpless to do otherwise. She wanted to go back into the house, find her boy, though she knew in this dream he was half grown, his body taking on more of a man’s shape than he ha…


When I woke up this morning, early, of course, I was not feeling the love. I wanted to stay home, maybe drink the entire pot of coffee, nap; definitely did NOT feel like heading to the gym, seeing people, fighting the good fight. In fact, it's been about an entire week of feeling like I did this morning. (If you haven't read Giants in our Midst, you should give it a go as it sets the tone for where my head's been at recently.) 
'Before', this rarely happened. Immediately 'After', it happened on a daily basis. However, the past few months have been particularly positive, upbeat even! Retirement has been good for me, helped me find a level of softness and relaxation, despite the crazy busy calendar I keep. Now, it is April; or, as my brain calls it, almost May. *and she steps back onto the roller coaster ride once more* Actually,  my 'Always' means that I am perpetually on the roller coaster that is life after losing my Robbie. What I'm contemplat…

Giants in our Midst

Giants in our midst
It would be so easy to give in to the wave of gray. The elements seem to be stacking against me as April storms into May. The recent death of a beautiful girl. Thunderstorms and rainy skies. Dreams I cannot remember even when they wake me in the dark of early morning. The approaching month of May, the birth month of the Giant, my 'new normal',  Grief, into my midst.  It would be so easy to curl up and stay put, to wrap my arms around my heart, to simply not play the game.  It would be too easy; so I get up, reach out, drive in the rain toward people who will understand. I let the tears flow without wiping. I let my memories skitter and land, my heart sigh and break, and my mind to cloud before clearing again.  In my front yard, buttercups are starting to show, peeps of yellow that weren’t there yesterday. They have a ways yet to go, but what they work at today will show up tomorrow; and what they fight for tomorrow will show up for the days after.  Time and a gu…

Wild Horses

Wild Horses
            Herds of wild horses once roamed the landscape, families traveling together, grazing in tall prairie grasses and seemingly barren deserts, moving at will, searching comfort and basic needs, protected by lead mare and stallion. Now, the descendants of those proud animals are rounded up, chased by helicopters overhead, jeeps and ATVs on the ground, locked in pens, and sent to their deaths by truck and train. Foals are wrenched from mares, sent to auctions and uncertain futures.             Wild horses are disappearing, because men want their land, because men claim the horses are destructive, so, therefore, are not welcome.              Today, caravans of immigrants, families traveling together, move one step at time, across harsh lands, escaping dangers, searching for better grazing land. Babies are wrenched from their mothers, sent to camps, separated, wounded in ways that will leave their hearts changed forever. These are people. They flee persecution, and we mee…


Self-doubt can be debilitating: that nagging tickle, the voice in my head whispering that I'm not good enough, that it's too good to be true, and worse, that the good times are not going to last.
     For the past weeks, too many even for me to pinpoint, things have been good. In all honesty, good isn't even the right word. Many areas of my life have given me 'aha moments', powerful minutes that have me reflecting on my growth, reaching previous goals and setting my sights even higher.
     Without going into much detail, a few examples:

     Realizing during a handstand leg extension set that I was actually able to control my abs, that I had gained incredible strength since beginning my fitness journey.     Watching my horse's dark eyes calmly follow my movements inside the barn, trust and calm emanating as she chose to share space with me rather than stand alone.     Deciding to end my procrastination, and knocking out the outlining and beginnings of a wo…

Savor the Quiet Moments

All I'd intended was a quick trip outside to feed the equines and maybe give Thor, the mighty barn cat, some belly rubs. Mesa was eating at the gate feeder. It was quiet inside the barn. Not silent, but quiet, as Nick devoured his soaked alfalfa pellets and old man feed. I decided to leave the big door open and pick out stalls, get things set for the next time the animals needed to be sheltered for a night. 

As I stood in Mesa's stall, shaking out the medium pine shavings, I heard gentle hoof falls in the padded aisle. Soon, Mesa's shaggy forelock was peering in at me. The giant yellow wheelbarrow was between us, but I noted an almost wide enough space for her to enter if she chose. I worried that perhaps the handles could catch her, hang up on her blanket, but rather than panic, I simply held up one hand as a 'no' to my horse. Her dark eyes watched me, seemed to take in the situation, and she simply blew out her breath and stood watching me as I continued to work i…

Blue Roan Morning

Icicles cling to her dark muzzle, a frozen water trail left behind from the heated water bucket hanging inside her stall. Black lashes are frosty white, wintery mascara on my blue roan mare. The wind is fierce, burning my cheeks in the spaces not covered by pulled down hat and muffler; but, the sun is bright and the sky is a brilliant cornflower blue, dotted by fat white clouds high overhead. This is what draws my mare outside, away from the protected comfort of stall and shavings.

I shove the wheelbarrow out into the deep snow covered pasture, and she walks calmly behind me. As I dump the contents, kicking the frozen layer clinging to the yellow bottom of the deep container, she watches me for a moment before leaping over an invisible barricade into winter. Her blue-black starkness draws my eye, and I allow myself the simple pleasure of watching my horse as she gallivants in the snow. It amazes me, the ground she covers in a single long gaited leap; how her thousand pounds becomes a …

2019: Let the New Year Begin

A new year.

A fresh start.

The first day of 365 in 2019.

Many are making, or have already broken, resolutions. Get fit. Stop smoking. Be kind. These are not, in my mind, great resolutions, as they are things people should be doing no matter the year.

New Year resolutions remind me of the old adage: 'I'll start my diet/new goal/thing I know I don't really want to do MONDAY.' Think about the definition behind resolutions, or, the base of the word, Resolute.

Resolute: Admirably purposeful, determined and unwavering. 

If resolutions were truly unwavering, there would be no need for repeating them.

Two years ago, my Word of the Year was Purposeful. Last year, I chose Abandon. Purposeful Abandon was my focus, the beacon that guided me through 2018. Some days I was better than others. Some of my choices went completely against my ideal of Purposeful Abandon, as I took on too many new roles, wanting to do so many things for myself and for others in my life.

It backfired. Whole …