Sprouting spring

behind the curtain, life can be messy
you too? yes, me too
life can be hard, the world is mad . . .
how much more wonderful would it be
if we leaned into each other
embraced each other 
tightly, lovingly
especially when we need to
especially when it feels difficult
especially when circumstances exhaust us,
and we can be in our truth

Today is my peaceful day

So far this winter season, we've had a week off of school due to an ice storm. Today's another snow day, mostly slush. Grateful for the chance to take a much needed long walk with the dog and time to process another family death because that is the stage of life we're in, amidst celebrity passings too. Like everyone else, I took to a box of tissues to view Eric Dane's 'Last Words.' As he looked into the camera and intimately shared with his girls, I tried. Absolutely heart-wrenching. Reminded me so much of my last few weeks with my Dad before he passed peacefully at home almost eighteen years ago. His last words to me included, Was I a good father?

Auntie Nita Torqueza, my Dad's first cousin in California, recently died. Their moms were sisters. The Torqueza family lived in Jersey City before settling on the West Coast. I have strong memories of playing with my cousins -- Rowena, Rosalie, Rosanne and Regina. Because I grew up alone, their departure from New Jersey had a deep impact on me. Perhaps I inherited my Dad's sensitivity and connection to others. I have been participating in Auntie Nita's nine-day prayer novena and am mindful of the close family bond my Dad had with his first cousins, living together during their college years in the Philippines, along with buddyihng it up with his cousins' husbands, all from the same province of Narvacan, Ilocos Sur. I strive to keep those connections with family that my Dad so delighted in. He never missed holiday phone calls to California, Chicago and the Philippines. Long gone are the times of handwritten letters, he keyed in on his turquoise typewriter, but first wrote his letters on legal pads.

w

Grateful for this afternoon's winter walk . . .

from the woodspath
i listen intently to the winter wind
whooshing, slush dripping
from the trees
today amidst the weight of the 
winter's wet snow 
i glimpse our neighborhood fox
he lurks about
like memories
their tenderness creeps
into my heart
as i view them
in my mind's eye
i think
despite the gravity of heartache
i can breathe and resolve
to make today
my peaceful day

May peace ripple everywhere

I have been a mindfulness practitioner for some time, including day-long retreats of guided meditation, movement and eating in silence. I would never claim to be an expert, just someone who tries . . . everyday. What a gift it is to remember our breath and be in the present as much as possible. Easier said than done in a culture that subscribes to media scrolling or overachievement even before your child is out of the womb.

I have been following the monks since October and their Walk for Peace from Texas to DC. I have been listening intently to their evening talks of mindfulness. Deeply grateful that I had the opportunity to be in their presence this early morning. I could barely sleep last night excited to visit with them! And it was well worth the wait. 

I recall from my day-long retreats the importance of a simple slightest smile, eye contact, silent communication. Just like my previous teachers who were students of Thich Nhat Hanh, each of the monks offers his attentive light, gaze and stillness. The ability to convey loving compassion and kindess that way is so valuable, especially in a world mad with all kinds of negativity. Grateful to the monks who make it their life's work to share their discipline of mindful breathing and being in the moment. 

Please let me pay it forward to you. Give yourself permission to find a quiet corner and may you find a moment to breathe in, breathe out, and be filled with loving kindness, be well, be peaceful and at ease, and be happy.

We need this fiercely warm reminder. Our country and our world need this. Now more than ever.