with a cup of tea

Early this morning, looking up from digging in my garden, I shared a greeting with a couple walking by, and commented on the beautiful sunny day.

I added: "I don't know what I'd do without my garden."

"And I bet your beautiful garden wouldn't know what to do without you!" was the woman's response.

I immediately recalled a letter poem I had created for my first book.  The poem I had placed first.

It reads: "I don't know who I touch walking on this earth ... who gathers my smile and slips it in their pocket to savour with a cup of tea."

The woman walking by gave me a gift.    

To savour. 

And, writing this blog will allow me to experience the moment again and again.

Last week, as a friend and I were walking in Fernwood,  a woman, perhaps in her mid 80's came towards us.  She was wearing wild multi-coloured leggings. 

I stopped and said that I loved what she was wearing!

She confessed that she hadn't been sure how they would be received, and admitted that she had bought a second, equally fun pair as well.  

On sale. 

Just $10 each.

I wonder if she is still feeling that moment of recognition and delight.

When I walk on the golf course trail behind the Cedar Hill Community Centre, I nearly always say "Good morning" to people coming towards me. 

Occasionally, it's become a bit of a game, wondering who won't respond, but it's been more fun seeing a rather gloomy-looking solo walker light up and send good wishes back to me.

I haven't listened to the news for nearly five months, usually just skimming headlines on my computer.

I haven't watched news on television for a great many years.

Still, I know enough about what's going on in the world, and that's ENOUGH!

I wish I could wrap my daughter, who lives in Israel, with layers of protective gauze. 

I can visualize it.  

And that is what I can do.

I look at the "cats with personality" website she has created and see the joy she gets from her rotating family of cats. 

              And, I can look at people as I move through my day, and really see them.

And that is what I can do.

And, in some way, let some of these people know that they are being seen.

 

dust or no dust

With the intention of cleaning up and clearing out, I have been terribly sidetracked.

Or, maybe "fortunately sidetracked" is more accurate.

I felt that passing books along was an easy place to start, 

that the spaces on the shelves would prove to me that I was making progress. 

I didn't count on finding notebooks filled with poems and bits of prose written around 2010.

Some I wrote during a poetry workshop given by my friend Barbara Pelman, poet extraordinaire!

 Others I wrote afterwards.

One poem I wrote, dated November 2009, seems now to address my desire to keep some bits of myself back, 

holding tight until I feel safe

and keeping my vulnerable self hidden.

The first line was written by Rick Bragg in his memoir, The Prince of Frogs:

                  "So he put the dream in a box to keep it clean" 

Using this line to begin, I wrote:

"So he put the dream in a box to keep it clean 

removed from the wind that carried

dust and debris from the narrow lanes

to keep it clear from the soil of memories

the grime of family despair

and the fingerprints of time.

He put the dream in the box

with the lid closed tight

against peering eyes 

and probing fingers

where his son would find it

after he was gone."

Rereading my poem again and again I hear a deep sadness, even a cruelty within it.

Rather than a box with a lid closed tight, 

as in this poem, I hope instead to give precious shelter to my dreams,

and to risk sharing them with my family and close friends....dust or no dust!

the snow goose

"The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither do you need to do anything but be yourself. " Lao Tzu

I was so  happy to read these words that I sent a copy to both of my daughters.

That was before I pulled back with "yah, right!" 

Fine for the ancient Chinese philosopher and Taoist master to say, but for this Canadian woman, who's never totally sure if she is TOO much or NOT enough, it's a challenge.

A sidebar that has been appearing as I wander on Facebook has put a different kind challenge forward, showing drawings for a full month of chair yoga. 

The figure shown is usually male, young and probably 40 years younger than I am. 

I never click on these ads so I'm not sure what the promise is.

But I can guess.

Weight loss.  Firmer body.  More attractive.

It sounds like this goose is taking a bath!

                       

A poem I wrote several months ago seems to belong here:

   I had a stone tumbler

   once

   a long time ago

   when my daughters were young

   I put stones in 

   from "pebble beach" 

   on South Pender island 

   the rough edges 

   made smooth

   imperfections 

   rubbed clean.

                   I wouldn't do that now