"Tell me the best thing that happened to you this week," I asked Facebook. I asked in 2019, and again in 2021 and 2022, just so I could hear happy news about people thriving, at least in the moment. It's what I needed to hear in one big slurp, in view of everything else, like these times. You know.
I've been using a mental whisk broom to collect my 2021 details into a tidy pile. I look them over, and then… what? Resolve to do better, repeat what works, lose my frantic grip on what doesn't? It was the worst of times, but it was also the best.
The power of moving water that has traveled many miles is a mighty sweep of mind that displaces all the detritus and details and picky little annoyances of life, and smashes them to bits, and brings me back to nothingness - more than than I ever get on the mat or on the cushion or by watching my breath.
It's an in-between time around here. Red, yellow, and orange leaves cover the ground and linger in the tree branches, hanging on til the next big winds. Rain alternates between torrents and sprinkles. I've just been in a "should I stay or should I go" sort of mood.
Being with children side by side and from a distance.
Some birthdays are passed in celebration, some with dread, and some like this last one, with just a nod and a shrug, acknowledging the passage of time. And another hike around Ridgefield Nature Preserve.
Despite what you see in most of my grandkid blogs, our time with them isn't all walks in the woods, teachable moments, and kids say the darndest things. We don't have enough time together to get too annoyed or frustrated with each other, though it does happen. Like the third time we ask them to … Continue reading Coping
Here I go walking in circles again. If it's not one direction out my front door, it's the other, always in circles, round and round the neighborhood, looping past the same houses, same yards, same trees.
The sun glistens on the water, wild daisies shimmer in the breeze near my feet, and the warmth from the rock seeps into my hips. Tiny waves lap on the rocky shore. A stand-up paddler passes, barely a wake behind her, and I wonder in this quiet, do I really want this quarantine to end?
So many things can make or break a hike. What makes a hike a good hike for you? Here's what I noticed last time I went to the woods.