Friday, November 28, 2008

Dear Anonymous ~

~ you left a comment for me on my last post, suggesting it was time for a new one.

Thank you for that. It's nice to think someone wants to read anything I have to say.

I've been doing some thinking about this blogging business, Anonymous, and I realize that my motivation for posting has changed since I first began in July 2007. At that time I'd was advised to keep a blog, mainly for self-promotion purposes. It seemed like a good plan as my website is always years out of date so I decided to give it a whirl. I kept it light at first, thinking that it would be read by teen readers who would find it. Not so. It seems that those of us who blog read each other's posts, and occasionally I receive comments from complete strangers, but most of us don't have large readerships. I then began to use this blog as more of a journal, writing only when I had something on my mind. It's been good practise, and cathartic for me to write short pieces that try to make some sense of a subject. I sort things out best when I write about them, and I've really enjoyed it, but lately I've wondered about the point in all this navel-gazing...

Each of the blogs I follow has a different purpose. Some are to keep family members updated about growing children. Others are used by travellers to share their journey as they go. Some have a publishing focus, others are like mine, random thoughts about life and some are mostly self-promotion. I enjoy them all, and especially like the ones with lots of photos. (A picture tells a thousand words.)

I realize that my blog, Anonymous, is mostly navel-gazing. Admittedly, one of the blogs I follow and love is by Jann Arden, who is such a funny lady onstage, but her blog posts are really stream of consciousness navel-gazing too. Yet she is so poetic, so profound at times. She sucks me right into her prose.

I like my posts to have a point, to share something that I've learned on my journey. Problem is, Anonymous, life has been slow this past month. No new insights, or none that I'm ready to articulate yet. Oh, I know they're coming, life always throws new challenges our way, but the latest battles haven't moved into the arena of 'wisdom' yet. They will, and no doubt I'll be moved to write about them, but as far as the point of this post, Anonymous,well, I don't think there is one.

So Anonymous, thank you for checking in occasionally. The time will come when I feel I have something to say and I'll enjoy articulating it here. I hope I don't keep you waiting too long, and that you don't find my musings too self-absorbed. I'll try to keep my eye on that fine line....

Until then, warm hugs, whoever you are ~

(The above photo comes from

Sunday, November 2, 2008

In the fall of our lives....

I'm not sure why, but for some reason I've enjoyed this season more than I ever remember enjoying fall before. Perhaps it's because I have a new waterproof raincoat and I'm out on the mountain trails more regularly, but I have found the colours, the smells and the light to be especially remarkable this year. Today, for example, Winston, my loyal canine companion and I hit the trails late in the afternoon. It had rained most of the day, but now the sun was low in the sky and the way the light slanted through the branches and captured the colours of the remaining leaves on the trees ~ well, it was simply breathtaking. I had to stop dead in my tracks and just stare at the wondrous shimmer and slashes of light. The trail was covered in a thick blanket of leaves, you could not see the ground beneath it, and the musty, earthy smell was intoxicating. As we wandered along I gave a silent thanks to Mother Nature for giving us such a spectacular afternoon. Even on the rainiest of days Winston and I have headed out, and after the first few minutes we stop noticing the wet and simply enjoy the stillness and beauty of the forest.

Many years ago a beloved Unitarian minister helped me discover the beauty in the winter months, too, when the fall colours have long turned to a dull brown and the branches of the trees are stark. He reminded me that Mother Nature is simply resting, gaining strength, preparing for spring when the world will once again be blessed with a burst of new life/energy. The winter forest may look bare, but beneath the surface new life is already stirring, preparing for the longer days and warmth of the new season. Like the forest, the minister said, we too need downtime, to rest and recharge. Our inner seasons may not coincide with the outer seasons, but there is much to learn from the cycle of Mother Nature.

A friend recently suggested that we are in the 'fall' of our lives. This notion didn't sit well with me as I realized the truth of her words, but today's walk was a reminder of what a beautiful season this is. As well, my dear friend Leslie pointed out that there has been a sudden flutter of posts on my blog. Could it be that my biological season is fall, but my internal rhythm is now in early spring, where the writing juices are beginning to flow again, waiting to burst into a flurry of novel chapters? I have two mini-writing retreats planned for the next month so I hope this blogging is simply a warm-up to the bigger work that's waiting.