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Showing posts from November, 2016

soft season, advent

Soft season of quiet anticipation, blankets with mist and snow
Preparing for the dormant time
Sweet solitude balms the weary, all is in calm repose
Patient and silent in winter’s rest
Come gentle season of peace and stillness, envelope in candlelight and flickering fire
Welcome Counselor, welcome Advent
Solus Christus
Sunday was the beginning of Advent, a time marked with anticipation of something, someone to come. It’s a time of expectant waiting; things coming into being.
I am quiet. I am anticipating. I am waiting for things to come into being.
Missy

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scattered, messy and thankful

Pine needles lay like pokey Pick-Up-Sticks on the sidewalk. I notice them as I walk; that and cracks, pebbles and dirt that washed from a flower bed in a recent rain. Stuff scattered on the sidewalk. It’s not clean. It’s rather messy.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow; a day marked on the calendar to acknowledge the good things in our lives. This is good, right? For a lot of us the answer is “yes,” but this year, more than ever, I’m keenly aware of how desperately painful the Holidays can be. People’s lives and relationships look like the messy sidewalk, so they don’t want to walk there. I get that; it looks like there’s nothing good to acknowledge.
There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy – Ralph H Blum

Walking, I look more closely at the pine needles, seeing the slender taper, the soft brown color and the patterns they leave on the sidewalk. The cracks spider-out like delicate snowflakes and the dirt displays a footprint of someone who passed by earlier. There’s more to t…

we left the city

We left the city yesterday, wet leaves covered sidewalks; brown and at the end of their season.
It had been nice to walk neighborhoods, dart into cafes for coffee or a drink. It was grey in a melancholy sort of way, with a fresh breeze.
Being reminded of traffic, activity, and people. The places we gravitate filled with the not-mainstream people. I’m intrigued with their stories and thoughts, often different from mine.
Bridges and highways, buildings old and new, some dilapidated, others restored. The rush and crush continues, all covered with leaves set in grey.

Written in Seaside, about Portland while in our hip, urban loft-esque industrial hotel.
Missy

If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance

mindful of the water

Earlier this week, after walking around the lake and stopping on the dock to watch the water, I was mindful of the rippled surface.
It was still water, there was still a sandy bottom scattered with stones. It was the surface, not the substance that was different.

Peace, be still –
Missy

If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance