the season of dancing light
As the fall mornings evolve and daylight diminishes, I find myself waking in the dark. It feels like just yesterday when the early morning sun lifted quickly over the horizon, rousing me from sleep, and the bedroom would take on a lighted glow. Now, I struggle to see any hint of light through the trees; the room remains dark. I wonder if I’m no longer a morning person since I lost the light as my alarm clock. I had come to depend on the light to start my day. It [...]
of old photos and a landmark building
She handed to me a shoe box patterned in stamps from around the world, only the box wasn’t for shoes but was for photographs, and it wasn’t to hold memories of global travels but to house snapshots of the journeys in years of my family. I had placed it among similar boxes in a narrow closet among unused coffee table books stacked on their backs, a plastic bin of colored markers, thank-you note cards, a box of lavender stationary, and accordion folders stuffed with remnants of writing work. Just a [...]
Absent but not forgotten
I owe you an apology. I haven’t seen you in two months with no attempt to say hello with even a scribble of a few sentences. We haven’t tangled in sorting mixed words or found clarity in excavating unclear meanings or built a solid structure from a wobbly one in a long time. It’s not that I haven’t thought about you, because I have, especially in the mornings, when we used to sit and work together. I’ve been away because of a personal matter where my thoughts and energy have [...]
What We Humans Can Learn from Trees
Donna Cameron, author of A Year of Living Kindly, reflects on a recent trip she and her husband took to a national forest. But it wasn't just about visiting a bunch of trees . . .
thanks for the memories
I’ve all but forgotten about my anniversary. This memory-maker was neither of a person nor of a place, but with a thing. When “three years ago on this day” popped up on social media, a promotional ad I had created for it, I was prompted to remember the soon-to-be anniversary. This time, it wasn’t about the big memory itself, the release date of my memoir, but the micro-memories—anxiety, nerves, percolating fear, and the revelations about myself—as a by-product of the anniversary memory. You’d think I couldn’t forget the date my [...]
how to bead a necklace in memoir
At a recent get-together with my now twenty-something nephews, I saw their once little boy smiles and tender eyes in each of their now matured-men faces. I couldn’t help but to remember them from years ago, their arched necks looking up when walking narrow city streets in Chicago, fearless busy bodies scaling jungle gyms at the playground, mesmerized focus while playing with their new kitten. I thought of how snippets of memories—looks of trepidation with unbridled curiosity, hearing blasts of horns honking, smelling the sweet fragrance of apple slices and [...]
when a winter’s walk was like no other
For most months, I’m out first thing for a brisk walk, or a mighty jog through the woods, depending on how this aging body responds to a willing spirit. But this day was a cold winter one where tears settled in around my eyes and when the sun seemed asleep and blanketed by an off-white canvas overhead. I was desperate to feel the ground underfoot, to feel connected in a way that for so long has felt disconnected on so many levels. I dressed in standard winter attire of heavier [...]
a most-needed green thing
At first, I don’t notice it. But then a celery green tip catches my eye. It pokes through a pot of grey cracked dirt, nudging up against the pot’s rim, reaching for sunlight and air. What a surprise! I wonder how it has enough strength for fresh growth during a winter’s dry dormancy and dim light. I was hopeful for this wee life, during a winter’s time that can feel void of color and newness. My snake plant, with only six sword-like leaves, (five at the time of purchase) was [...]