Kick at the darkness

until it bleeds daylight

the gift of a sunny February day

Hello You,

There was a day this past week when the winds subsided, the sun shone bright, and winter’s icy grip let go of my little corner of the world, for just a short while. It was absolutely glorious.

Mid-morning I managed to scramble down a slippery path to walk along my favourite stretch of the shore, and then, in the afternoon, I dragged a chair out to the front porch so I could spend some much-needed writing time in the warmth of the sun. While I was out there, I spotted one of my neighbours wobbling up the road towards me— her youngest child tucked in a carrier strapped to her front, her giggling toddler riding in a low piggy back grip to the rear. She was making remarkably good time for the load she was carrying, and as soon as she saw me on the porch, she called out a hearty “Hello!”

“Hello you three,” I replied. “So good to see you on this beautiful day! ”

We chatted for a moment, exchanging enthusiasms about the weather and guesses as to how much longer winter might last, and then, as Mama-neighbour shifted the weight of her children around to start walking again, she said, “What a gift today is.”

“Yes,” I said. “What a gift.”

I’ve been hanging on to that moment ever since.

the goats down the road understood the assignment

The Awe Report

From a cascade of big, heart-wrenching world events, to a string of more personal, close-to-home struggles and heartbreaks of family and friends, it’s been tempting lately, to simply hide under the covers, indefinitely.

That, of course, isn’t the answer. Yes, we all should rest and grieve and step back as needed, those things are all important parts of life, especially in challenging times, but it’s also important to, in the words of the brilliant singer-songwriter Bruce Cockburn, “Kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight.”

With that in mind, I’ve been doing my best to send words out into the world on a daily basis— through letters, emails, poems, phone calls, etc. — with the hope that they might bring a bit of light to the dreary state of the world, and that I might make a difference in someone else’s life.

I know MANY of you have been doing the same —calling and emailing elected representatives; staying on the line with medical professionals and insurance companies to make sure your loved ones get the care they need; checking in on friends and family to make sure they feel safe and loved. Make no mistake, it is work — hard, good, important work that isn’t for the faint of heart. Please know I stand in AWE of you warriors of communication, you who lend your voices on behalf of others, for the betterment of their lives.

Keep Going

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

— Emily Dickinson

Closing thoughts

I’ve been thinking a lot lately of two other warriors in my life, my parents. They were amazing humans who loved their family, friends, community, and country deeply, and were keenly interested in everyone’s stories, no matter what they looked like or where they’d been born. They taught my brothers, my sister, and me that being a good citizen meant that you extend kindness, grace, and understanding to others, and that it also meant you had a responsibility to speak out against injustice, discrimination, and oppression in the world. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Dad and Mom as newlyweds at Yosemite.

Mom and Dad were BIG lifelong fans of the National Parks Service. Here’s a photo of them as newlyweds at Yosemite in the early 1950s sporting adorable mountaineering hats from the park’s gift shop. That’s El Capitan in the background over my dad’s shoulder. (IYKYK)

We all have mountains to climb dear friends, every day, 24/7. Pace yourselves accordingly. Rest when you need to. Extend grace when you can. And keep kicking.

Forsythia on the kitchen table.