There’s so much going on these days and so many places to put our attention that sometimes I pause and sit in the middle, center myself in quiet and all that’s swirling and whirling in and around me.  There’s nothing to do or even be.  

I receive these words of Jane Hirshfield:

We cannot let our ideas blind us to our unknowing.

Movement in May

This morning, my surroundings are stirred by bird song.  I’m lifted on movement and sound, stirred.

The name, May, allows me to unfold in a request.  May I open, trust, thrust.

The name comes from the Roman goddess Maia, a nurturer and earth goddess.  She is the goddess of growing plants.  

The word also comes from the Latin word majores, “elders” because elders were celebrated during this month.  It makes sense as our wisdom grows, softens, and blossoms in spring and falls in fall.  

I’m with movement today, movement within and around me, and I continue to be stirred as I read and absorb these words of Takuan Soho from “The Right Mind and the Confused Mind”.  

If the mind congeals in one place and remains with one thing, it is like frozen water and is unable to be used freely: ice that can wash neither hands nor feet. When the mind is melted and is used like water, extending throughout the body, it can be sent wherever one wants to send it.


I’ve come to a place of pause and trust, at least in this moment. May this continue as a knowing, honoring, and acknowledgment of the words of Rainer Maria Rilke.

“The future enters into us, in order to transform itself in us, long before it happens.”

Ridge in Mist


It’s one step but Derek Chauvin’s conviction of murder for killing George Floyd sends a ribbon of fresh air through us all.   The world held its breath waiting to hear that murder would be punished, and now with the sentencing, it will.

Yesterday I went to Lake Lagunitas with a friend.  It was the first time in over a year I was in a car with someone other than my husband, but we’re both a month out from two vaccinations and felt it was safe.  

We went to the lake because there’s a bench there for my friend’s sister who passed away in an accident years ago.  It’s a peaceful place, and we hoped to see a river otter or two, and possibly a beaver or two.  We walked ¾ of the way around the lake and then sat waiting for what we might see, and then, right there – the magic of a little head and body as an aquatic friend swam by and into the reeds.

Lake Lagunitas

A Home
Wild Iris
The moon rising in the afternoon sky