love hard, love fierce

our work is 

building community

making love in a world 

without gun violence

without sexual assault

without prejudices

with my imperfect self

i see into this creek

so very clear

a living foundation 

mindful of what matters

connection with others

as our authentic selves

makes for solid friendships 

for our work is listening

truly paying attention

is a most wonderful act of kindness

supporting each other to be our best

nurturing our children to be their best

so that we can tell them, 

yes, simple goodness 

has a natural rhythm 

in our world

It's raining apples

this morning's mindful stretchi imagine my loved ones

alongside me 

my feet flow

along the earth

raindrops keep fallin' on my hood

thoroughly soaked

leaves fallen in love 

turn mid-stream 

into fallen apples --

flashes of golden delicious,

pink lady,

& maple crisp

How wild it is, to let me be

My daily hike-runs keep me sane. I alternate between two local lakes, Lake Royal and Burke Lake. I do my two rounds totaling 4.4mi at Lake Royal. I promised myself before year's end, I'd hike Burke Lake's 4.7mi loop by myself. I usually circle halfway around and turn back, meeting my at-least-three-times-a-week if not everyday, a little over four miles. 

A couple of days ago, I did it. I. DID. IT. The entire Burke Lake. I have to admit, that last .3mi seemed a little more alone than it needed to be. Especially when I have my partner's worries hanging over me. Are there other people on the path? Did you bring the red bag (fanny pack with the bear spray)? I run into patches where a most welcome silence greets my morning monkey brain. What I savor most about my mindful hikes is going to my place of Alone, where I can be . . . just me. My customary woodsbath soothes me as does treading for miles with no other reason to experience that I am powerful. In that moment, I bear witness to my very own wild like Cheryl Strayed.

In my place of Alone, I exercise my emotional courage. I say a prayer for a newly eloped cousin and his love. Most recently I wander through holiday memories of loved ones, usually my Dad or best friend who are way beyond the fall's oyster blue sky that hovers above the deep roots that remind me to be brave and to keep rising up. 

So tomorrow once again, I will rise up . . . rooted.