Ever have one of those days when you go and look for something and you trip down the rabbit hole of…memory?

Like boxes of old photos or paper files or, even scarier somehow (to one like me who tends to hoard old things), DIGITAL versions of …. Stuff… old files and photos on an old computer that somehow didn’t make the move from one hard-drive to another?

So went my day today.

But still… some time spent scribbling and for that I say,  Bless.  And am grateful.

And… for this one photo…

This great shot of the Raggedy Man walking down a beach near Ucluelet.  I say,  Worth it!

Write on, my people.

Go easy~p

transform the energy…


Today I got to spend an hour with Sarah Selecky and a group of wonderful writers.

Sarah  called it an SOS call for writers.  A time to just come together and write our way out of … reactivity… and re-connect with our own deep-inner terrain. Getting back to some basic, calming, writing practice.  Back to the deep-noticing state that feeds our work (and our souls).

It was lovely and powerful.  Especially hearing participants read out their words – so raw and wonderful.  I wept a lot as I listened.  And I took heart.

The thing that I took the most joy in was…slowing down.  Even when I write by hand in The Scrib, I so often write FAST.  Fast fast fast fast – as though I will never catch the words as they fly by me.  One of Sarah’s rules for writing practice is to write with CARE, meaning slowing down to form the letters of the word.  I love how she described this …. “as if you are creating a pen and ink drawing with each word.”  So often my morning scribbles are just exactly THAT – scribbles that I can barely read afterward.  It was nice to slooooowwwwww myself down today and enjoy the flow of ink onto the page…word by word.  Ahhh.

I am so grateful to Sarah for offering up this call.  She’s amazing.

I loved the Yoko Ono quote that she closed the call with, so I hunted it down.  The quote is from her song, Revelations, on the album Yes, I’m a Witch.

Thanks to the glory that is YouTube, I listened to some Yoko and meandered my way through today’s adventure in NaNoLand.

Good times.

Hope the words are flowing for those of you playing in NaNoLand, and those of you who aren’t but are still out there scribbling away.

Thanks for stopping by.

Go easy ~p


Links of love and wonder:

Sarah Selecky’s personal website:

Sarah’s Story Is A State of Mind (online creative writing school):

A letter from Sarah (there are MORE letters to explore on the site):

And a lil Yoko…


I forget to pray for the angels…


I forget to pray for the angels, and then the angels forget to pray for us….

Yes.  How I forget so very much.  That seems to be my theme today.

The things I let slide away away away…. The things I start with all good intention.  Always things that I feel will… both feed me and feed my work and help others, make the world a better place and make me a better person. What do I even mean by that?  By better?  What what what what do I mean?

I mean….less NetFlix (especially violent shit), more praying, more time in silence or with music that uplifts my spirit.

I mean… simple things.  Small steps that happen daily that take me towards that Future Self that I sometime get glimpses of.

She is so cool.

So cool that she can’t really be me, right?

You ever have that feeling?

It isn’t that she is “perfect” — it’s that she is strong and sure and she is so incredibly … generous (in a way that doesn’t drain her) and … capable.  She is capable.  And calm.  And mostly smiling.  But I also know that she is able to stand when called upon — to defend (others, the land, the waters).

I want to capture this in a poem.  Something I can memorize and carry with me.  Something simple.

I want… a blessing from this future self.

Like … All will be well and all will be well and all manner of things will be well.

Like… You do not have to be good…you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles though the desert, repenting.  You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves….

Again again… I vow to learn Oliver’s poem (Wild Geese) by heart.

And again I am grateful for the wisdom of Julianne of Norwich.


And again, always, I feel that my words are not…good enough, clear enough, simple enough YET.

But I honour the yearning.

I honour the yearning, and the showing up to work each day.  I do this.  I work each day, towards clarity. On and off the page.

When I think about what it is I have to offer the world, what it is to “carry my own weight” here on the planet, I return and return and return to this gift I have been given. The gift of being able to string words together with a rythmn and an honesty that sometimes brings my meaning, my yearning, home to others in a clear way.  Words that once in a while can reach into people.

Oh man, I so often I feel that I am frittering this gift away.  I seem to be afraid of my own words.  I seem to take every wrong path towards whatever it is that I am trying to get to, to express.  I hang my head. I hang my head. I hang my head.

I know that it will not come from the chasing.

I know that I do need to be here (in my Scribble book), every day, and to continue to work at expressing myself to myself — because this is how I am learning to craft… words.

The work is the work is the work but the thing I seek will not come from racing down the so so many roads that other people have lain.

I believe that what I am seeking is…more  like… grace.  That doing the work is the way to… allow this grace to manifest.

The work is to come here each day and

The work is to breathe and listen and

The work is to pay attention out in the world—be the world outside the house or inside this computer.

But more so, more often, outside this computer.

In this skin, on this planet that is so very often full of pain and fear and injustice.

The work is in the opening.

Well all right.  I feel a bit better now.  And…

I need to go and sit for a time on my wee meditation bench.

And listen.

Thanks for stopping by.

Go easy ~p

hope begins….


A strange, unsettled morning.

No.  That’s not right.  It isn’t strange, but I am unsettled.

It was a morning of…distraction.  Good distraction if that is possible, but still… distraction.

I am doing something different this month.  Working on the computer FIRST THING, in the time I usually work by hand in the Scrib.  I am doing this as a way to…clearly see how much I actually write each day – including the time spent doing my morning scribble.

I KNOW that when I do this, I need to be sure to CREATE before I consume –meaning that I DON’T log in to online forums or facebook or even check my email before I do my morning’s “work.”

I didn’t do that this morning and I’ve spent over 3 hours now wandering around devouring the words of others and getting very few of my own onto the page.

So it goes.

My wanderings began with this wonderful offering from Sarah Selecky over on her Story is a State of Mind site:

It is such a beautiful post and in the comments, people are sharing poems and… she also offers some amazing resources and recommended reading for writers (and other humans).

Sarah is also offering up a “free SOS call” — a guided writing practice — on Wednesday.

I plan on being there.

And now… I need to go for a walk to clear my head and then I will settle in to see what comes of today’s rich rich inspiration.

Thanks for stopping by.

May your day be full of wonder.

go easy ~p

Sequester my heart…Or not…



I love this quote from Jeanette Witherspoon’s The Passion: “Sequester my heart. Wherever love is, I want to be.  I will follow it as surely as the land-locked salmon finds the sea.

I love it except that, today, I got to thinking about the first line– about the idea of sequestering my heart.  I don’t want to do that.  Or at least not in the sense of hiding away or shutting myself off from things or people.  Though sometimes, like this week, the urge to do so is strong strong upon me.

My writing and thinking and poking about online today took me towards something else.  Towards the idea of using the energy of this love to move towards this world, instead of hiding away from things that seem hard.

So today I say no to sequestering my heart, but a hearty YES to the idea that wherever  love is, I want to be.  Not romantic love – but love for our fellow creatures, for this land, for this planet.  Turning to love as opposed to hate.  To bravery instead of fear.  To caring and compassion instead of anger.

My friends are so wise and so wonderful.

My friend Wendy posted the most glorious thing on her facebook page the day after the election. I don’t feel right putting up her entire post, but I hope that she will glad for me to share a bit of her wisdom with you.  She wrote:

You need to be you. You need to be you in goodness and “other” centric focus – for our sisters, our brothers, other species… the planet. As much as possible – YOU NEED TO BE LOVE. 

I need to be. Every moment, every minute I can muster – I need to be thinking clearly, creatively responding and walk a better path – and I need to know that this little flicker of energy that is me and my approach, unwinds from me and trickles in [to the collective mass of energy – a Guf of sorts that houses all the opportunities out of which we can guide our future] – and I need to be okay with not getting the WINS or the PRIZES or the POWER, I need to be okay with actively doing something to balance the energy for all of us.

I love this and I take up the challenge to do likewise.  With my work and in my daily round.

With everything I can muster.

And when I grow weary… I will replay the wise words from The Patchwork Grandmothers as offered up by my dear friend Andrea Menard it this wonderful video about Embracing What Is.


Hope you are all having a lovely weekend.

go easy ~p

With a love so vast and shattered…



I greet you from the other side
Of sorrow and despair
With a love so vast and shattered
It will reach you everywhere
And I sing this for the captain
Whose ship has not been built
For the mother in confusion
Her cradle still unfilled

For the heart with no companion
For the soul without a king
For the prima ballerina
Who cannot dance to anything

Through the days of shame that are coming
Through the nights of wild distress
Tho’ your promise count for nothing
You must keep it nonetheless

You must keep it for the captain
Whose ship has not been built
For the mother in confusion
Her cradle still unfilled

For the heart with no companion …

I greet you from the other side …

(Heart With No Companion – by Leonard Cohen)


And because today is also Remembrance Day here in Canada, here is Leonard Cohen reciting  “In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae. He recorded this last year for Legion Magazine.

We lost another great artist today.  Thank god he left us his words and music.

The Raggedy Man and I drove to town for the ceremony at the Legion.  Home now and the fire is lit.

Be kind to each other.

Go easy~p

Everywhere is falling everywhere…



Yesterday, I spent some time with friends including the poet Rumi and the wonderful Marion Woodman (who I am just coming to know).

I found this poem – The New Rule by Rumi in a book that slipped into my hand yesterday as I wandered the aisles of the town library.

I did a small scribble yesterday, but found myself needing to spend time in the company of friends instead of alone with my own thoughts and words.  So grateful for friendships–be the friends near or far away.  Be they humans who actually KNOW me, or artists who shine so bright that I am drawn to their work.

I returned to the Writing Burrow this morning and continue to reach for words.  They are my way through and I hope that, one day, some words of mine may comfort someone as much as I have been comforted by the words of others.

The book I found in the library yesterday is Bone by Marion Woodman. I look forward to spending time with her today.

Links to further reading (for myself):


Profile of Marion Woodman:

Listening to Our Deepest Wisdom, Part One: The Soul’s Vulnerability (With Tami Simons from Sounds True):

Listening to Our Deepest Wisdom, Part Two: The Soul’s Vulnerability (With Tami Simons from Sounds True):


And a taste of Marion – for the curious…


Go easy~p

PS – For Nancy – who asked for the link to the webcam that is just up (or is it down) river from our shaky shack.  Here ya go:

how we look on love…


Today, a story just began itself….

push back against the dark…



“Claim your space. Draw a circle of light around it. Push back against the dark. Don’t just survive. Celebrate.”

Charles Frazier

Working from this inspiration this morning, I realized (again) that this is what I do each day in The Scrib.

This practice of writing each morning has saved my life.  I know this.

But I don’t often CELEBRATE it.

Or even acknowledge how important it is.  In fact, I often denigrate it.  Thinking that if only I worked 1/2 as many hours a week on “real writing work” I would be … what?  So much farther …AHEAD?

Ahead of what?

Things I ponder.

Happy scribbling, all.

go easy ~p


Charles Frazier:

And a few old posts from me…

Survival Tips for Storytellers (and other humans)

Slow Rot Deep Rot: Finding the Juice in our Writing

Last night, at one in the morning…


Last night, at one in the morning, we went down to the edge of the water to watch the beavers.

There were three of them.  Momma Daddy and baby we assumed.

They had no fear of us.  They carried on, though we may have disrupted their real activity.  They come each night and work at carrying away all the branches that we’ve piled up – from the big poplar tree we had to cut down.  They bit through our big extension cord. The one that runs the pump we use to water the garden and the grass and have our summer showers in river water warmed by it’s time in the hose under the sun.

The biggest one – the daddy beaver, I assume, was eating.  Chewing the bark off of a branch out in the water.

The baby swam right up to the shore and walked almost out of the water looking right at us.  At one point I said, “What if he comes and bites you?” and Mansel laughed.

The medium sized one stayed close, but not as close as the small and curious one.

They have no fear of us.


I enjoy recording this.

It isn’t poetry or fiction or an essay.  Not yet. It’s just a moment, on the shore, with my love.

I’m glad I went out to see them.

So often I just stay inside, where it is warm and the tv runs on and on and… I miss the wonder of this place.

I know that and I beat myself up about it.

No use in the beatings.

Better I should just do like I did last night.  Finish my evening ablutions, put on my boots, take my beloved’s hand and walk to the edge of the water.  Be outside with him in the dark.

For sooner than I can truly grasp / know / fathom… he could be gone from me and this place as well.

This is the moment.

Right here.

This is the place.

This is my life.  And it is a wonder.

The stars were bright and when we got cold, we came back inside.

Have a great weekend ~p

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