The spaces that hold us
With so much time at home this past year, I've developed an even greater reverence for what surrounds me. It's the space that holds it all, my memories and my unfolding experience. Every minute of every day it makes the space for me to live into.
A rediscovery and a new (old) poem
The older I get, the more I realise that life consists of repeatedly losing sight of myself and finding my way back, sometimes deliberately often seemingly by chance.
Harvest Moon
Autumn always feels so abundant, in a deeper more subversive way than Spring does.
Of things unknown and longed for still
When I was young, I dreamt I could fly too. I soared high above mountains and through valleys. I wasn’t a bird in my dreams. I was me, flying.