Hello again,

I hope you had a lovely Christmas! We had an enjoyable gathering with family on Christmas Eve and a joy-filled gathering with dear friends on Christmas Day. I also spent time texting, emailing and phoning dear friends and responding, in kind, to my FB friends’ Christmas wishes. This was my best Christmas ever; making meaningful memories with loved ones.

So what are my intensions for the New Year? Have you given some thought to yours? While it may be a matter of semantics, to me, the word “intention” is silky-soft and loving vs the traditional word, “resolutions”. I used to beat myself up in January when I didn’t adhere to my resolutions. None of of that helpful. When I started using the word “intentions” I was motivated to keep on keeping on. Words matter.

I identified some shortcomings from my year end review where I was off-balance in my Being’s aspects. I consider a short-coming to include if I maintained my supportive practice. In other words, I can always find some measure of improvement. Because if I’m not “thinking” that way, I can become a sloth and justify doing nothing about it. Let me be clear, I value “doing nothing” as a necessary component of being creative and to having a serene and restful existence.

The first thing that comes to me, is in the physical part of my world. I mentioned, in my last post, experiencing a shortness of breath climbing the stairs. This happens daily. It happens, too, when I need to lift large flight-cases, at work. So my intension is to do something physical that improves my stamina. I used to walk, run, bicycle and swim regularly. None of those activities excite me enough now to do them except for cycling. Funny enough, the Health Clinic owned by my masseuse, are offering a 6-week exercise program for people 65+ in a small-group setting, once a week starting mid-January. That excites me! So I signed up to go after work for an hour to get some exercises suited to my needs and abilities. Following that, I also signed up for another offering of a 3 sessions-exercise programming directed by the Chiropractor. I have a curvature in my spine so this, too, seemed fitting. When I am strong and have stamina, I feel considerably better. Not to mention, the endorphin’s one gets from exercise. My hope is these two program investments will motivate me to continue exercising afterwards at the new gym that opened in my neighbourhood.

Speaking of endorphin’s, I’m getting a notable mental boost from doing a nightly meditation. What it does is transition my mind from being active and full of thoughts into a neutral and full of serenity just before bedtime. I listen to a YouTube recording of 963 or 528 Hertz for 20 minutes. I started this meditation practice last year and I will continue with it. It helps me fall asleep easier contributes to having a more restful sleeps.

My emotional landscape can become like a mine-field if I don’t get in touch with all my emotions regularly. For me, writing is the best way to get in touch with buried feelings and the less than desireable ones, like sadness and grief. Other people can find art-making and music to resonate with feeling deeply. I was able to “feel” my grief whist writing a tribute to my family member who is seriously ill. I shed a few tears. I read that piece aloud to two different people and I cried a whole lot more. The energetic release felt good. My spiritual teacher offered to bear witness, to my grief, too. I will take her up on that, next time we meet; and will read my tribute aloud, again and see what comes up and out.

My spiritual Self was well-nourished from the new spiritual community which I attended regularly, this past year. I will continue attending their weekly talks which focus on how one can learn from day to day events to live a joy-filled life. I belong now to two spiritual communities and have received so much from them. One of my intentions is to find ways which I can give back to these communities so they remain vibrant for others.

That sums up my intentions for 2026; a couple of new ones and two are maintenance ones. If I can follow through on these intentions I will have a good year. Of course, one never knows what twists or turns life can bring. What I do know, from experience, is if I remained hopeful, committed and disciplined then I’ll have a better chance of handling the unexpected experiences when they show up.

I hope you are inspired to look at your intensions for 2026. May you write, make-artful things or tune into music to touch the deeper aspects of your soul.

This is the first time I’ve completed a year-end review and setting intensions before Dec 31st. Usually, I’m reflecting on these things in January and even in February. Suit yourself in terms of timing; no need for a hard-deadline; these practices are meant to be nourishing.

I wish you all the best in 2026, in all ways!

In gratitude,

~Barbara

…it’s that time, again. This year passed quickly! I will remember 2025 as a series of milestones; it was a mixed bag of great joy and great sadness. It feels like more shifts are underway, which excites me.

I’ll look at life’s four aspects, the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual self. That’ll be the foundation and then setting intensions for 2026 can be more wholistic.

For starters, winter was its glittery self. Gorgeous snowy scenes with plenty of time outside, bundled up to the eyeballs. We did a lot of skating at Victoria Park Oval whist wearing our silly-looking yet, precious hockey helmets. We bought the helmets immediately after I fell backwards and hit my head on the ice. Our skating skills were never great to begin with. And they are not improving as we age much to our chagrin. Regardless, they were fun times. The crisp fresh air was invigorating!

Spring, summer and fall was spent walking and biking along the river valley trail system on the weekends. Our vacation was a road trip to Revelstoke, BC, which I mentioned in my last post. While in BC we enjoyed time in the elements, as tent campers, and we spent time sitting in Hot Springs pools. Work keeps me physically active however, I noticed that I get quite winded when I go up a flight of stairs. Not enough cardio! In November, I embarked on getting major dental work done. Urgh! I’m on a liquid diet for 4+ weeks. At first, I dreaded it and now, three weeks in, it’s become surprisingly delightful. I’m finding high-quality nutrition goes a long way to sustaining me. I’m turning this into an adventure of discovering new flavours. For example, I blended an avocado, banana and chocolate protein powder mixed with Almond Milk to be delicious and nutritious. I’ve been drinking green smoothies, for years, but as it’s my only source of nourishment, at the moment, I’m being more mindful with their contents.

Speaking of the mind…this aspect remains a big mystery to me. It’s an incredible and fascinating part of the body. Navigating life was largely difficult and is now mostly easy. At times, I have a photographic memory and other times I delete information coming my way before it has a chance to land. This impacts my communication skills and my actions. I can be a slow thinker, as well as, a speedy thinker. Recently, I said, something at work and I sensed a discomfort from a colleague. Low and behold, I said the exact same thing the day before. Oops. Oh well! I’m not fretting about that fact that I’m also starting to experience some memory loss. I’m profoundly grateful that “fear” has abated. My cycle of fear-based thoughts has been broken with daily meditations and mental exercises which has created new neurological pathways. I’ve noticed pivotal breakthroughs this year. Yay!

My emotional self experienced the usual ups and downs. Mostly, I’m responsive. Generally, speaking I’m now a very happy person. And for that, I’m deeply grateful. I’ve certainly weathered many storms. Frankly, it’s from those circumstances that I have learned the most about life, myself and others. During a storm, and immediately after, is certainly no fun. None at all. But, when the storm is in the rear-view mirror the realizations/teachings surface. Shifts start to happen. In early 2025, I learned that a close family member is ill. A horrible disease that is eroding every aspect of this person. They are becoming a shadow of their former self. I have the support and tools to weather this monster-storm in my familial sphere. But, do they? Do they have the supports they need to make it to the end. And what will that “end” look like? There is little I can do to help. What I do know, is Grace can help and so I’m inviting Grace into this situation, every single morning.

This year I became a part of a spiritual community in a happenstance way. A dear-trusted friend said, “you might wanna check this place out”. Sometimes, you never know what you’re missing until you find it. I felt at home instantly. The centre’s ….”mission is to teach spiritual practices to create joy-filled lives”. Imagine that! Spirituality has been a part of my life for decades; it’s like air to my lungs. I’ve been part of communities in the past. Some ran their course and ended; I’m thinking of a couple of women’s circles I belonged to. Different teachers, different teachings have contributed to my spiritual foundation. Finding this community has been boon. It enhances my monthly meetings with my Spiritual teacher and my daily practices. Spirituality is central in most of my friendships, as well. Which makes for delightful phone chats and coffee or lunch dates.

In a nutshell, did I nourish those four aspects of Being or was I off-kilter. It’s always a matter of degree. Throughout this year’s ebbs and flows I remained relatively measured. Are there things I could do better to feel better? Of course. That’ll be my next focus.

How did you fair with respect to your Being in 2025? Are there any aspects that need more nourishment? Were you on-balance, for the most part? Or were you not? I hope this post inspires you to reflect on this past year and do some writing on it. It will pay you back in dividends.

Happy holidays everyone!

~Barbara

We went to the Edmonton Humane Society just to look. We decided we would eventually adopt an older cat. Josey, our cat of 18 years had recently died. Our apartment felt empty without a fur-baby. Truth be told, I wasn’t ready for another cat yet, but my partner, Bob, was.

First, we looked in the older cat adoption section. No black cats there. We seemed to gravitated towards black cats, Josey was all black and Chelsey before her, also 18 years old when she passed, was a tuxedo.

Then we thought, oh…let’s just look at the kitten section. We saw a black kitten. Emi was huddled with her five siblings; she was at the bottom of the pile. She was the smallest one. My heart melted when I saw Emi’s sweet little face, another tuxedo. She had white whiskers. We learned this litter of kittens were feral. We spend the next 3 hours at the shelter going through an educational component and the adoption process.

We brought Emi home that day, at the beginning of June, 8 years ago. To say she disliked being in that cardboard box they packed her up in would be an understatement. She was screaming and pawing at the opening trying to get out of her confinement. Her tiny white-sculpted paws poked out of the air holes of the box. She did get out of the box whilst in the car on the way home. We managed to scoop her up and put her back in. Upon entry into her new home she ran and hid for hours at a time. We bought a baby kitten harness for her and the straps were tightened further with elastics to fit her small-frame. She looked so fragile. She was only 8 weeks old. She could fit in the palm of your hand.

When she’d come out to check things out we’d hug her and pet her like we may never see her again. Given her disappearances it made sense. Yes, we smothered her. She seemed to lap it all up. What we didn’t know, at the time, is that we set the stage for how we’d relate in future. Not only is she quite attached to us, and we to her, she is also very affectionate. She sits on Bob’s lap whenever he sits down. He can’t sit anywhere, at any time, without her wanting to be on his lap. They watch football and hockey games together. Emi rarely sits on my lap. I’m her night-time mate. She sleeps in the crook of my arm all night. And she tries to wake us up at precisely 5 am. Every day.

Having said all that, Emi is also the most independent cat we’ve ever adopted. Of course, we tried harnessing her, walking her on a leash, tying her to a lead, the whole nine-yards, but she would have none of that. She fought us like it would be the death of her. I suppose, in some ways, it would. She is a free spirit. Owning a feral cat has it’s challenges. She loves dashing out the back door and taking off to go chase mice. She is an accomplished hunter of mice. When we take her out to Woodwinds, our place in the countryside, she hunts mice for hours and can easily catch 3-5 per day. Emi is indeed a huntress. She eats those poor little creatures. And so it is.

One day, a few years back, she took off, and disappeared for 5 days. Needless to say, we were pretty upset and spent oodles of time combing the neighbourhood. As we began mourning our great loss, she returned home, if she was a mirage. Emi was dehydrated and considerably thinner. We imagined perhaps a coyote chased her up a tree and hole up there for safety sake until the coast was clear. We’ll never know. We were beside ourselves with joy that she returned.

So can you tell we adore her? She is sweet and feisty. A home-body and wild. Silly and smart. Beautiful and ugly (when she’s chowing down on a mouse). While we’ve loved our previous cats deeply Emi has stolen our hearts and we feel quite fortunate to have her. She teaches us about patience and trust and love and affection.

In gratitude,

~Barbara

“Sounds great!” I use “sounds” a lot in my texts and in my other writings; it’s as if I can hear someone speaking what they are writing. It’s a way to animate words. And I believe we can elevate our conversation this way. If we were speaking we would be listening. Listening and sound are an inseparable pair. Just like our two ears, we might, wisdom says, listen twice as much as speaking.

“Sound” is described by Dictionary.com as …”the sensation produced by stimulation of the organs of hearing by vibrations transmitted through the air or other medium.” And … “any auditory effect” … “a noise, vocal utterance, musical tone and or the like.”

Goodness gracious there is much to write about; what a delicious challenge. Here’s what soothes my soul in palpable ways.

Every evening before going to bed I close out my day with a half hour of a 963 Hertz music meditation. It is said, “to be the frequency of God.” It is a medium-high tone with a backdrop of instrumental music. There are three combinations which are my favourites from a selection of many. One musical loop includes the occasional sound of a flute; with its crisp clear as a bell sound. It clears my mind. These sounds help transmute my daytime vibe into a restful vibe and it helps me sleep better. And I imagine this music could be helping my dream state come forth.

I love the sound of nature. The first sound I hear is the bird. The caw of the Crow; the squawk of the Magpie and the whistle of the Red-winged Black bird. Each bird has different sounds for calling a mate; discouraging a predictor or simply communicating with its compatriots. A murder of Crows can send a chill down my spine as their collective voices sound aggressively loud.

One day I was working in the countryside, eating my lunch whilst sitting on the hood of my car. I could see a majestic Bald Eagle in the distance. It flew in my direction and it then flew low and right over my head. It was so low I could hear its wings on the wind. Whoo….whoo….whoo. I felt my whole body tingle.

The wind has a sound based on its velocity; whether it comes steadily, softly or in violent gusts. A slight breeze sounds like the restful exhalation of Mother Earth.

There is a rustle as leaves blow in the wind. We are stewards of a plot of land in the countryside. It is primarily forest with trembling Aspen; its leaves flutter in the wind; hence we call our place, Woodwinds. Woodwinds is a house of symphonic-like sounds.

We built a roof over the 25 foot holiday trailer, sitting on the land, where we cook, eat and sleep. Rain storms are loud when the rain pelts down and bounces off the tin roof. At times, it has a beat to it much like drumsticks striking a drum skin.

We have a catch basin for rain to water the nearby garden. The dugout teems with life; it is also a watering hole for coyote, deer and moose and is home to Mallard ducks and to frogs. An echo of quacks and rib-bits can be heard, periodically, throughout the day.

Woodwinds also gifts us with the sound of silence. When the winds aren’t blowing, the birds are napping and the insects are at rest; like at sundown; the silence is deafening.

This is the antithesis of living and working in the city of Edmonton. A city boasting a population of 1.2 million. There is a steady din to city life with the occasional piercing of the rumble-roar of a Harley Davidson motorbike or a police, fire or ambulance siren.

We attended a birthday party for two friends yesterday. There were about twenty of us. The weather was overcast with a sharp wind. We sat in a circle outside for most of the afternoon. Eventually, we migrated inside the house where it was warmer. We were pretty loud as we packed inside, wall to wall, in the kitchen and dining room. The sound of joyous conversation and oodles of laughter was good for the soul.

From 963 Hertz music to pop, rock, classical, opera and vocals, I love all kinds of music. I especially like the power that overcomes me while listening to the 4,4 beat of rock and roll on my car radio. At work, I listen to the pop rock of my youth and, for moments at a time, I don’t feel 65.

When I’m torqued up; I can hear myself think. My mind is so busy that it feels like there a sound to its rapid movement of thoughts. There is no sound, of course. It’s simply a figure of speech to indicate one’s state of mind. My mind is in a state of sparkling delight when I’m crafting words into sentences to put on a page. The creative process involves the heart and mind in a synergistic way and dances to a silent rhythm which when it’s working and is complete sounds simply perfect. To my ears anyways. The process strives to be clear, concise and paint a picture of sorts. And not a sound was uttered.

I hope this foster’s your appreciation of the sounds in your life. Be it your local birds, a city-like sound or the tone of a dear friend’s voice.

In gratitude,

~Barbara

Holy moly…where does time go? Unofficially, summer starts May long weekend. Gardens are usually planted that weekend. The danger of frost is rare. My neighbours plant flowers and vegetables in their raised beds in the back ally.

Carol, my writing companion, and I decided on a summer-break from our monthly meetings, in large measure, because we couldn’t find a day to meet up. We were both busy. That business seems on-going. Today is September 1st. Labour Day long weekend which traditionally marks the end of summer. At least, it marks summer’s end for students, parents and educators.

I feel shocked at how fast these months have passed. Life seems to be speeding up. I turned 65 in June. That got my attention. I am officially a “senior” with all of its perks. Of course, I’m changing wrinkle by wrinkle. My energy remains youthful and yes, sometimes I don’t dress my age. I remain committed to my eclectic style.

In spite of all the business I make time to recharge. The introvert in me requires it. It’s not an option; not a luxury. I learned that the hard way. It took a couple of hard knocks of burn-out before I got the message. I savour my down-time and protect it fiercely. I am proud of the fact that I can now enjoy “doing nothing”.

On the other hand, what have I been doing?

I’m working a job which I throughly enjoy occupying 4 days a week. I am a bit more tired at the end of the week. I hope to work another few years as long as I can contribute. I trust, I will know when it’s time to leave. If not, my boss would make the suggestion, kindly. I may simply work less. Of course, I’d like to leave on my own terms.

On my weekday off I schedule medical appointments and coffee or lunch dates with friends. I have a couple of new friends and we’re delighting in getting to know each other. Also, I love visiting with long-time friends.

Bob and I spent a week in Vancouver to visit friends, at the end of June. One couple flew in from Tennessee. We first met these two in Penang, Malaysia in 1990. We hung out with them for several days. We shared lots. And laughed a lot. Bob and I then spent a few weeks in Revelstoke. Canyons Hot Springs Resort/Campground was our go to destination for decades. The hot pool is good for the body and soul. We did tent and cabin camping. I was grateful for the connections and the comforts. I returned to work fully rested. Yay!

August is a blur. Trying to fill in the blanks is a challenge. What stands out, in my heart, is we went to a few barbecues with a new group of friends. We are the oldest and I’m honoured we were included. We also hosted a barbecue. We had a marvellous day at our place in the country. As one woman put it, “its just so nice to get out of the city for a day.” The weather was a perfect 23 Celsius and sunny. The gathering was a “just because” event, however, we secretly planned to sing “Happy Birthday” to Bob. He didn’t see the cake when it arrived and was quite surprised when we started singing to him with this beautiful cake in tow. I love it when your ideal vision manifests!

As I post this, yet another month has passed. It’s autumn. Edmonton’s river valley is absolutely gorgeous! The deciduous leaves are a golden yellow and the bushes are fire-engine red. An abundance of conifers pepper the landscape. I live south-central a few blocks from the ridge of a coulee. On my commute, I get an expansive view of the river valley. A heavy fog sat in the low laying areas yesterday morning. The drive was magical.

It’s October 3rd. I’m on an early flight to Toronto. It’s a whirlwind trip; Friday morning to Sunday evening. I’m going to visit my mom and have dinner with a few friends from high school. Ah…we are beginning our descent into Pearson Airport. Time to sign off.

What did you do this summer and early autumn? Have you taken time to reflect on your heartfelt moments? Do you write about them?

In gratitude,

~Barbara

Don’t get me wrong. I love Winter! It has its own kind of beauty. It has it’s place. It is a time for introspection and rest. It’s a time to hibernate. I savour those chilling months as I’m less active and quite deliberate about my intensions and actions. The slower pace helps me reassess what’s most important. I am, therefore, more focussed and joyful come Spring when the surge of energies percolate from deep within and from Mother Earth.

A four stem Lily bouquet graced the antique-pine blanket-box coffee table between two caramel-coloured sofas. The Spanish-blue living room’s footprint is small yet it looked grande when fresh cut flowers were part of its ambiance. The Lily’s forest-green leaves twisted, twirled and danced the tango. The twelve yellow blooms opened bit by bit. I love watching flowers unfurl their magnificence whether the flowers are inside or outside. I left my humble abode to see that, this year, Winter died a slow death.

We got a lot of snow in the final weeks of February which was great! That would help mitigate our forest fire season which also starts in Spring. Meteorologists reported temperatures would trend upwards. Thankfully, we saw some sunny days. It was overcast a lot which was a far cry from Winters’ past when we experienced minus thirty Celsius with bright sunny days. Those were extraordinary times. Then, I used the engine’s block heater and warmed up the car for fifteen minutes just to get it moving, for weeks upon weeks.

At the beginning of March it was below zero every night. Rooftops and car windshields doaned thick frost each morning. Spring blooms were nestled deeply in place with not even the slightest whisper of growth.

In mid-March, we received a “heavy snowfall warning”; travel plans were wisely postponed. It snowed heavily for 36 hours! It took half an hour to clean the snow off the car. It was almost a foot high. That was a work out; the snow was wet and heavy. It’s not unusual to get a huge blast of snow in Spring. I remember big dumps at Easter and on the May long weekend. It’s as if Mother Nature blew out the last of the white stuff from her pipes with one final huff. These humungous snow dumps appear designed to saturate the Earth’s need for moisture and the start of Spring’s growing season. Winter seemed to be on it’s way out. And that copious amount of snow vanished quickly.

At the end of March, the double digit temperatures enticed some tender grass shoots out of hiding. They edged the swaths of dead grass. Our Canada Geese returned from warmer climes down south. They made quite a racket. I sang the Goose Song, that I learned, welcoming them back. “Hey ja, hey ja, hey ha, hey ja, hey ja”…. The days are noticeably longer, too.

It’s April now. The forecast was sunny for 10 days. It was time to watch for snow drops, crocuses, and tulips to make their entrances bit by bit. More green grass popped up and people started their Spring lawn routines.

Temperatures climbed into the double digits by mid April and stayed on until the end of the month.

I mark the arrival of Spring when I see my first crocus. It’s my ritual to go to the flower beds outside Edmonton’s Muttart Conservatory located nearby. I love to take photos of the fuzzy green foliage and purple flowers. The silver hairs on the greens are unique to the northern and western regions protecting the plant from the cooler nights and maxing out their absorption of the sun. I reminisced about my childhood growing up on an acreage. My mom planted snow drops, purple crocuses and daffodils in clusters through out the forest. Once the snow melted, we’d look for green shoots poking through the tea-coloured terrain and uncover them just a smidgen.

I finished this write on a flight to Halifax, to visit a dear friend, for a few days. I anticipate seeing more flowers in bloom in NS. Today feels like a good time to celebrate, more fully, the death of Winter and the birth of Spring!

What do you love about Winter? What symbolizes the death of Winter for you? Do you have any Spring rituals?

I would love to hear from you!

In gratitude,

~Barbara

“I didn’t do a lot this Holiday Season,” when asked. I was off work for 10 days and I had large blocks of time with no plans. Yay! I looked forward to a break from the hustle.

I kinda hustled on December 27th when I connected with others with an early morning phone call from a friend in NS, breakfast with Bob (my partner) and a couple, coffee with another couple and a Zoom call with a friend from ON in late afternoon. We all felt festive.

Otherwise, each day had no commitments or simply one. Like one day Bob and I drove to the countryside. Another day, I met up with a friend whom I hadn’t seen in ages. And I met with my Spiritual Teacher one afternoon. I sipped cups of tea in-between the hours of activities while doing nothing! Imagine that! Gone are the days of over-committing and rushing around.

Mostly, I had slow mornings and lots of time to reflect, rest and write. Reflecting on the previous year and identifying aspirations for the coming year is what I do over the Holidays and will clarify them in the first few of weeks in January. It’s a practice I’ve done for decades. My word for the year is “intuition”; knowing it better and using it.

Life is great! It’s better than it’s ever been. I’m excited about 2025!

First things first, I want to address the proverbial elephant in the room before I go into the why fors of my joy. I’m greatly frightened by the political landscape in AB and in the US. There lacks empathy. Policies are likely to wreck further havoc on people’s sense of security and quality of life. Not ease them. Here we are. I am flabbergasted how people can “ Vote against their own best interests…”as Bob would say. Or as Gloria Steinhem said famously, “…the personal is political…”. Admittedly, I compartmentalize these two in order to prevent becoming chronically depressed and fearful. And that takes energy. To be clear, my social activism is alive and well; I’m focussed on being most effective. This includes being in community with others who are like-minded during these darkening times.

On a personal level I am hopeful; I’m referring to my spiritual, mental, emotional and physical aspects. Of course, one cannot see everything that’s coming down the pipe; however, what’s in view is lovely. I feel serene in my relationships, intimate and otherwise, at my workplace and with the balance between work, play and rest. I am grateful to be eligible for OAS in June. How did that happen?

I started working as a teenager. I worked as a babysitter, sold all occasion cards door to door and mowed the neighbour’s lawn. After that I worked in retail, as a life guard, a receptionist, an office worker, a sales rep., a researcher and a letter carrier. In my 30’s, I became a cabinetmaker/finishing carpenter in residential construction, teaching, building theatre sets and now building custom boxes. I’m grateful for the plethora of experiences I had during my apprenticeship with my Mentor and friend. Looking back, I’m proud of the trajectory of my career in the trades. At times, I didn’t feel that way when, at every turn, I faced adversity. What kept me going was that I enjoyed learning.

This year, I hope to write more blog entries and poetry. I don’t think what I have to say is all that important. Simply put, writing helps me make sense of my world and it helps my communication skills; English is my second language. Of course, I hope my writing might be of some help to others. I wrote regularly, thanks largely to my writing companion from Vancouver Island. We meet on Zoom to share our work every month. I SO enjoy hearing her read her work. It’s helpful with editing to read my piece aloud. And it inspires me to get constructive feedback. I also want to put my photography back on the front burner. I’m on Instagram; but I haven’t posted much this past year.

Another Holiday tradition is spending Christmas Eve with family. This year was planned around our great-niece’s nap time and bed time. Rightly so. She’s the newest member at 1-1/2. She is a happy child and adorable as can be. She sleeps well and eats well, too. Her parents remind me that she does have her moments. I had the pleasure of spending an afternoon with her and her Grandmother looking at Christmas lights. The little one walked on her own or in between us holding our hands. Of course, I brought my Nikon to take a few photos of this little human who was captivated by the light displays. It’s a joy watching her grow. I aim to cultivate looking at life through a child’s eyes.

Over the Holidays, Bob and I spent time walking and skating outdoors. The fresh air and movement was welcomed after devouring holiday eats and treats. Increasing the amount of exercise I do in 2025 is a must. “Motion is lotion”, my yoga instructor used to say. That’s a good mantra.

I said earlier that I was content with all my relationships. There were a few that slipped through the cracks last year. Hopefully, if the feeling is mutual, we can spend more time together in 2025. My relationships are now all reciprocal. Consequently, I have more energy. An inverse relationship to my aging. Go figure! So long as I’m mindful that I need to balance my people-time with alone-time. After all, I am an introvert who also likes to socialize.

My Spiritual Teacher and I meet monthly so I remain accountable. We keep tabs of where I’m at and where I’m being drawn to go. She is incredibly helpful. She is a Mentor and a friend. As is the nature of our shares. We clarified my aspirations for the coming year which including powering my decisions, at the end of December.

I believe 2025 will be a year of “field work” as my Teacher would say, perhaps to prepare me for retirement. I love working 4 days a week, and as long as they’ll have me, I plan on working for a while yet. I will continue to explore activities that excite me hence my photography and writing. I will endeavour to listen more to my intuition when it gives me the heads up to connect with someone or do something new. Until then, I’m quite happy with the status quo.

I’m grateful for the people who are in my life. They mean the world to me. I’m also grateful for my immediate family. Each is doing their level best to engage with others in their respective spheres. I recently visited my mother in Ontario where she lives. My brother lives in the US; I miss him; we haven’t seen each other in years. I’m very glad that we are speaking over the phone weekly.

So…that’s a wrap on 2024 and my aspirations for 2025.

I wish you time for reflection, rest and activities not just during the Holiday times but also at intervals in the coming weeks as this new year unfolds.

Wishing you all the best, in all ways,

~Barbara

OMG I love this season! The last of the leaves are twisting and twirling to the wind’s tune. Dancing as if it’s their “last hurrah”. And it is. Lawns and streets are blanketed with a yellow cloak. The three trees outside my living room window are bare. With the exception of a few towering Spruce. Autumn’s colours peaked several weeks ago. Then, the golden tresses on the Poplar, Birch and Elm sparkled from the sun as it waltzed across the sky; radiating such splendour!

Autumn started Labour Day weekend as if it punched a time-clock and it has motored-on since. It’s mid November. We had a dusting of snow the other day. But it was gone by afternoon rush hour.

I was more an observer than a participant this Fall. I didn’t get out for the long walks to which I’m accustomed. Why? Who knows. Suffice it to say, I’m still immensely delighted to witness the magnificent seasonal change in the deciduous foliage from green to yellow to russet. A brush stroke of red is added here and there courtesy of the hedges, shrubs and vines.

The crisp air is as clarifying as if taking a whiff of peppermint oil, waking up all of one’s senses. Some mornings a thin layer of frost coats the car windshields and neighbouring rooftops. This is the longest Autumn we’ve had in a while. It’s been glorious!

In years past, I’ve gathered content for big projects much like a squirrel collects nuts for when the pickings are more scarce. This year I haven’t collected much. To date, no big project has come forth. I stretched myself artistically for years and it seems I have hit a plateau. It is good to pause, rest and look around. Move forward when there is something that sparks “joy.” Perhaps a photography project…. But what might that be about? People, places or things? I had a dream come true when my friend, Carol, from Tattered Rose Boutique, held an Open House and invited me to bring my photography and have a show. I invited family and friends. We had a good turnout. That was fun!

My energy level is high. I finish overdue projects and tasks as I prepare to hunker down for winter. I still work on things come winter however, my “Josie de vivre” is noticeably lower. Some friends don’t go out once the snow arrives so we squeeze in last minute visits. I love this flurry of activity in Autumn.

As the year is coming to a close I look back. Where have I spend my time? And with whom? Did I have enough time to daydream? How did I spend my money? Was that worthwhile? Did I save enough money? The answer to the last question is always “no”. Why just today, I put forward my interest to visit a friend for a few days in Nova Scotia. I miss. She was a road trip buddy. And we often met up for breakfast or lunch. I especially miss spending Christmas Day with her family. We would have a festive meal and we’d go for a long walk with their dog. Thoughtful gifts would be exchanged. Most of all, we felt a sense of belonging all the while laughing and chatting the day away.”

The days are shorter. My daily commutes are growing darker. That gives permission to go to bed earlier, despite getting up at the same time. So we’re on the cusp of the season of rest. I’m all for that. Societal focus tends to be on Doing vs Being. This year, I have been trying to master “the art of doing nothing” and I must say, I’m getting quite good at it! LOL. What does that look like? It looks like an open-eyed meditation. My writing doesn’t happen by “thinking” so much as it happens by opening to the words that want to be seen on the page. If that makes sense. I’m lounging on the couch, tablet on my lap, wearing a favourite outfit, burning incense, drinking a cup of tea and gazing out the window awaiting the next inspirational words.

My clothes closet fits mostly in the Autumn category so it becomes a joy to pick something out as it’s perfectly suitable. I’m a bit of a clothes hound; it’s part of my artistic self-expression. Generally, I’m a “black” kinda gal. The bewitching colour suits best my blue eyes and fair skin. I wear black year round and on most occasions. Some say black isn’t a colour because it has the absence of light. That colour is what makes me feel most myself, most powerful and most joyful. I am the Light. And so are you, dear reader! So are you!

When stillness comes to visit it is accompanied by a small yet pulsating restlessness. Born and raised a Doer, it’s hard to simply Be. There is an intrinsic edginess to my soul that longs to move. However, “stillness” seeks a place in my world, also. In equal measure. How can that be? I’m slowly beginning to accept these contrary energies. Being “busy” gives me a sense of purpose and fulfilment. As long as I live, I’m likely to feel some degree of guilt for doing nothing and simply being still. I know I need both, as do others, to maintain balance in life. I don’t know how those “energizer bunnies” do it. Or people who are unproductive too; for that matter.

Today, I had one errand to run which I completed before noon. The afternoon was wide open. Aah! Yay! And yikes! This is a good time to write, my inner voice nudged. I had already written a piece to read to Carol, my dear writing pal whom I meet with monthly, but the story wouldn’t gel. The piece was all over the map; I was tired and antsy. That was me pre-holidays.

I just returned from a long road-trip to Haida Gwaii, formerly known as the Queen Charlotte Islands. I am changed by the experience. If you seek to learn more about yourself and about life spending time on Haida Gwaii may help you find answers to some of your questions. I always look to holidays as a way to feel an excited calmness. I don’t have to work. I don’t have to do anything per se. I simply get to enjoy my environment and be in the moment. Be sure to tread lightly. This is sacred ground.

The people living on Haida Gwaii are generous. Their kindness to strangers is palpable. Stories and directions are easily shared. As well as, freshly caught salmon and crab. In all my travels, I didn’t see any grand mansions. Except one and it’s rather conspicuous amidst the, otherwise, humble abodes. No flashy cars either. Art is a part of life for the Haida and some of the traditional ways of construction are being practiced in various architecting pursuits be it a boat, a home or a totem pole. Art galleries pepper the towns sparingly selling local artists’ wares. Haida artwork is globally recognized. Excitedly, a Haida artist is going to carve the symbols of a bear and dolphin on a ring for me. Both to honour my totem animal, the dolphin, and the bear that showed itself to me two days before arriving on the islands.

I locked eyes with a cinnamon coloured black bear that popped out of between a cluster of roadside bushes. We held our gaze for what seemed like an eternity. My gaze unlocked to the fist-sized white heart-shape on its chest. I was awestruck! I shared my story with a Nisga’A storyteller and carver who exclaimed, “You saw a Spirit bear!” And that “Spirit bears are in this area; some have white paws, other white markings or are all white.” Ted Andrews, in his book, “Animal Speak” writes “…bear medicine…can teach you to go deep within so you can make your choices and decisions from a position of power.” And “…as a bear climbs a tree, so must you awaken out into the world, to gain perspective and apply your potential inherent.”

Haida Gwaii is mysterious and magical. It’s history is rich. It has been untouched by the masses. It’s population is low. In his article, “Haida Gwaii’s future, Haida Gwaii’s past, CBC journalist Padraig Moran writes, “…the Haida Nation, an indigenous group…make up around half of the roughly 5,000 people living on Haida Gwaii.” I believe certain kinds of souls live in this exquisite location. Either an evolving soul or a disconnected one. I sensed, the Haida know their bones, that this place is their birthright to protect.

There are meandering trails throughout the forests of Sitka spruce, hemlock and western red and yellow cedar, like the Golden Spruce Trail where you feel like you’ve been transported into another place in time. Legend has it there grew a Golden Spruce, a one of a kind tree. John Vaillant recounts in, “The Golden Spruce: A true story of Myth, Madness and Greed.”. The tree was cut down in the late nineteen-nineties. I felt the heart-break. Decades later. This isn’t the first time I have felt the grief of a people or a place that has been violated. Soft dirt covers the walking trails and thick moss cascades out from there. One could walk barefoot. Threads of moss hang from the branches like old fashioned Christmas tree tinsel. You feel as if Mother Earth is taking you into her warm bosom. And only when you are sufficiently nourished does She release you from her soft embrace. I’ve never heard such a deep consistent silence. It freaked me out, at first. In no time, I felt peaceful and clear. And I didn’t feel a lick of restlessness.

I walked the long, misty, rocky beaches for hours. Drift wood showed the afternoon tide lines like a child’s scribble. The rocks are smooth from their endless tumblings. Some beaches are known for an abundance of agates. The sound of the waves, loose-crackling rocks and tangles of windswept-hair live inside me, still. I felt a coming home of sorts. I found my rhythm.

I didn’t make it to the old growth forests and the ancestral villages situated on the south-eastern tip. One can travel to those islands by way of a small boat. It is there that the “Watchmen” have their stations. The watchmen are “minding the place” of their ancestors so that it is does not get disturbed. I hope to visit, again.

Yes, there will be another trip, or better still, “another pilgrimage” to Haida Gwaii. This place entered my soul, when I first heard of it, long before I placed my feet on the islands. The land knew what I was in greatest need of. I feel rested. I am no longer restless. And I’m more purposeful in my endeavours after experiencing this immense beauty, ancientness and culture.

~Barbara

It’s a new year. A year full of promise. There is also much to let go of, some reallocations of time and new creations distilling in the background.

It’s easier to live when things are sunny, clear and bright. Life is more challenging when things are rainy and grey. Yes, our earth needs the rain, but so do we. Colours deepen and growth depends upon it. Rain puts everything into perspective.

I’ve been walking in the rain for many months now. My mother is fading away. I’m grieving the loss of her ability to engage, to be mobile and her wish to be alone for this final stage of her life. It’s a sacred time.

My mother came to Canada from East Germany in 1954. Pictures of her show a confident young woman full of promise. I knew her to be smart, curious, adventurous and industrious. She demonstrated that your word may be all you have. So live with integrity.

She lived her beliefs and showed how to survive and thrive through many rainy days. She always knew sunny days were just around the corner. I inherited my optimism from her.

I’ve missed her during this year of rapid decline. My grief is now poignant as she inches closer to death.

I am consoled by her, Renate’s, beauty and grace as a human being and am proud to be her daughter. I wish her sunny days ahead.

~Barbara