Snowdrops started blooming on March 20–the day before we left for our tropical vacation. Oh, no, i fumed to myself. I’m going to miss them. The snowdrops stopped blooming yesterday. In other words, they flowered for 4 weeks! A record for these transient early, early spring flowers. I may have missed them for ten days,Read more about Missing Snowdrops[…]
This last morning meditation in Puerto Rico, i listened to the native little frog, the coqui, which sings its co-qui song from sunset to sunrise. That little frog is loud! Knowing that this morning is my last tropical morning for quite a while, i soaked into the co-qui call, using the labels “Hear Out” andRead more about Hearing a Coqui[…]
This day had a difficult birth. Rain pelting. Wind blowing. Now that the sun has risen behind gray clouds, the rain has calmed, although tree branches still dance in the wind. Blue sky peeps through fast-moving clouds. All is in flux. This breath. This movement of the eyes. These hands. Nothing is fixed.
Today is Groundhog Day, Candlemas Day in the Catholic calendar, and Imbolc or Saint Brigid’s Day in the Celtic calendar. Today is the day that my first hyacinth began to bloom. A sure sign of the coming season. Change happens all the time. We mark the passages of time with celebrations such as Saint Brigid’sRead more about First Hyacinth Bloom[…]
“I must go in. The fog is rising.” These are Emily Dickinson’s enigmatic last words. What might be your last words? Of course, we cannot even begin to guess what we might see/hear/feel in that in-between place, that bardo between life and death. For now, we can only be aware of the between places asRead more about Emily Dickinson’s Last Words[…]