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Wow, what a month
We have sent 2017 to be archived
Like a book on the shelf of life
Locked and loaded – we made it!

It’s a time of celebration
Mom, sister, brother, all alive and kickin’
My love and dog, healthy; and lifestyle overflowing
To think…

To think, some moons ago, I hated this time
Anniversaries were my annual death
I wailed, isolated myself, stabbed big knives into deep wounds.
My poor love would watch, at my side, hopeless.

Whether it was body, mind, career, money
It was all Hubris
And nieve
And stupid,
And thank God, forgivable.

How can I digest 2017’s feast with greater celebration?
So I can dance through 2018 with purpose and joy and grace,
Like tea with dear old friends?

Time keeps on tock-ticking
Oh, stop it mind —
I fear death may very well be around the corner
I fear that this new awakening inside means I have “arrived”
Please, not yet.

Whether it be the hauntings of my father’s end
Or other such silly self-inflicted hurty-poo’s
I have dreams that are loading.
Please hold…
Let’s load for a little while.

why not?

She doesn’t say thank you.
It’s mindbloggling.
We took her to the moon and back, showed her the stars; live music, delicious eats, Nature, space, room to breathe, ears to listen, shoulders for padding — we have been the best hosts.
And yet.. no thanks.

How about:
Thank you for buying dinner.
Thank you for making me tea.
Thank you for driving me around.
Thank you for the company.
Thank you For. It. All.

I’m watching myself retract from her.
I’m watching myself not wanna care.
Something so simple.
Three words that make all the difference.
And yet.
Why am I so attached?
Why do I need that gratification? And so immediately?

I let it go for some months.
Let this new light fester.
And then..
Out of the blue, she reached out and asked what I wanted for Christmas
To say thanks for making her first West Coast visit one of her favorite memories.

I died.

en route

en route

Thousands of miles above sea level
And land and civilians and traffic and highways
And byways and freeways and schools and corners shops.

How travel does good to the soul!
My eyes are tired but my heart is vibrant
Resilient
And gratefully acknowledged.

Who knows what this journey brings
Life is vast and yet horrifically short
These hard facts humble me
And so, I am awake.

Conversations in foreign tongue surround us
Kitchen smells from last minute bites fill the air,
Like smoke from a magician’s show!
A few seats up, kids squeal with delight
My spirit dances with them.

Oh, how the unknown excites me!
Oh, let us dream and toast
And dream again to the wondrous surprises
That lie ahead.

had your fill?

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All at once,
Hours of waiting and staring out into the tarmac abyss.
(apparently that gives the brain a break)
My eyes seem to drift into the thoughts and experiences the heart and brain have not processed.
Coffee (which I don’t drink) in hand
Bread (crumbs everywhere) on lap and in mouth
Peanut butter (hard to come by here) wedged between teeth.

I look around at my fellow travelers, and think about my innards.
Body rested and yet tired, all at once.
Funny how duplicitous life can be.
I yawn, my eyes like oil paint.

What does it mean to get to know a country?
Is it the food, gifts, tour guides and destinations?
Is it spending quality time with the locals?
Sitting in a park, map and camera away, and observing?
Is it – click! – social updates of Look at me! moments?

Can you say you’ve had your fill?
These worldly experiences speed past like the abruptness of an alarm.
And do you return?
Vidal, our driver, asks us as we approach the Departures zone.
Well?
Please say you have,
It’s a long way back.

it’s been a year…

How time flies…
Last year we had an extraordinary, out of the ordinary, holiday season. Check it out below:

home for the holidays

No tree.
No gifts.
No family.
No friends.
No travel.
No holiday food.
No other homes.
No parties.
No guests.
Lots of invitations.

This year we are at home.
This year we welcome a new member to the family so simplicity is key.
This year things are unconventional.

Am I sad? Probably not.
Am I missed? Probably not.
Am I forgotten? Probably not.

Continue reading “it’s been a year…”

more | less

More | Less

More creating

Less consuming

More leading

Less following

More contributing

Less taking

More patience

Less intolerance

More connecting

Less isolating

More writing

Less watching

More optimism

Less false realism

– Seth Godin

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