Center: How Less Can Be More…Day 10 of Getting Dressed


In my offshore search
For lost shells
I uncovered unexpected
Delights within me
I hadn’t realized existed
But may have always been there,
Formulated from old blueprints
And long lost maps

And I have to say,
I’m beginning to like
The brand new friend
I’ve made with myself
I’m starting to get to know.

She has a capacity for calm,
Previously untapped,
Leaving room for a more relaxed
Physiology to unfold, which,
For the highly strung
Is no small feat.

Fists unclenched, loose
Throat muscles left unconstricted
In turn, give way to
Deeper, judgement free
Breaths, possible to practice
Even during trouble.

Diving among fields of
Sea grasses swaying
In buoyant silence
I’m farther from life’s
Surface noises than I’ve been
In a long time,
Or maybe ever.

I notice and marvel at flora
Fuzzing slimy underwater rock,
Stare, mesmerized,
At the blur of light patches
Marbling with turquoise mystery,
Absorb, through every pore,
Salty musty aromas
Unique to massive ocean bodies
Without wondering
For very long
What other more useful things
I ought to be doing instead
Or how I wished the water
Were cleaner, warmer, quieter
Then surely I’d be happy.
Maybe a kind of mellow bliss
Already exists.

In excavating the center,
I’ve found that living
With intention to do less
In life makes each day
A more joyful book
To open, read and handle
And ends up being
More productive, actually!

When I’m allowing oxygen
To flow freely and fully
Within me
I find pleasure minutes
Available for the enjoying
During each task
I need to accomplish.

I’ve found I’m able
To proceed on to doing
The next thing right away
Because I know
There is something else
Worth experiencing
Right around the corner.
I just have to be open to
The searching.

I’ve been way less
Emotionally caught up
With what others are doing
And posting on social media
Because I’m too engrossed
In the quality of
Joy and kindness
I seem to be able to
Offer myself, lately.

Consequently, I spend
Less time wading through
Social media time swamps
And also reach less
Obsessively for my phone
In attempts to engage
In witty texting volleys
Of which I am a master.

This way, I find I end up
Cooking with more inspiration,
Am able to muster up
Courage to apply for work
I’d like to get
But am unlikely to
With more equanimity,
Make organizing and cleaning
Baby steps to address
Neglected areas of my home,
Though let’s be real.
Social media and texting
Are tools I still
Most definitely use and enjoy,

“I know my traveling schedule
May be enviable”, Someone said.

While visiting new countries and
Experiencing different cultures
Are indeed fabulous,
I’m not actually envious.

I find I also
Look forward to the
1000 large-piece puzzle
I have coming to me
With an irresistible eagerness
Usually reserved for children.

I anticipate the slow,
Peaceful intensity
Puzzling affords
Especially with a
Hot milky tea pot or
Glass of round, fruity
Red wine at hand
And I smile.

Anyway, so far, so good.
I’ve become addicted
To finding ways
To like my life.



Rhythmic: Picking Up on the Beating of Fairy Wings–Day 9 of Getting Dressed


In my revived interest to
“Move my hands,”
I inadvertently came across
An article that outlined
Suggested actions to take to
Invite fairies into your life.

Apparently, like me,
Fairies find glittery things
Utterly irresistible!
Making things like
Glitter candle jars
Can bring them closer
Like honey to flies.

So I made a few, pictured above,
And will keep my fingers crossed.

I wonder if I’m
At least part fairy and
Just haven’t known or
Wasn’t open to seeing
Sprinkles of their magic dust
Floating through the air.
Unaware, I may have been
Deaf to the rhythmic
Wispy beating their tiny wings
Because I did not want to hear.
Or, maybe sensing my hostility
Towards their existence at all,
They stayed away anyway.

I read it’s helpful
To display a woodsy
“Fairies Welcome” sign
So that they know for sure
This is a safe place
In which to flourish.
Without this welcome sign
Fairies may feel uncertain
About whether they
Will be well received
In this particular home and so
May avoid visiting altogether.

I’m thinking fairies
Appreciate the presence of
Springy flower bouquets too
So I put some out today.


Who knows what will come
From these efforts.

If nothing else,
My inspiration to hope for
A little magic in life
Will continue to delight
And propel me forward,
Up and out
Of February winter blues.


Glitter: Inviting Joy Into Life, Day 8 of Getting Dressed


Days passed in earlier February
During which I have had no choice
But to be a diligent
Joy student learner.

Consciously straightening my spine
Stretching my neck long and tall so the
“Crown of my head pokes through the clouds”,
I’m lucky enough to say
I’ve been to be able to halt
The bacterial decay that
Emotional dying sprouts,
An army whose forces
Had been infiltrating my bloodstream
Curdling my intestines.

Standing at the bay window of my heart,
I part musty curtains
To allow in later-February’s light,
A thawing.

My mood has turned a positive corner
A gentle flipping
Of gooey pancakes to sizzling brown
A trowel overturning potting soil
Revealing an underside’s nutrients
Deep in moist loam and iron richness.

An unassuming eagerness,
A looking-forward-to guest,
Has come to visit.
She may seem a mousey caller
Quiet in her plain aptitude
Dressed in a high collared, button down
Knee-length dress,
But she’s actually
A stronger and underrated
Propelling force in life.

Delighted to host,
Hopefully she’s heading for
A long-term stay with me.

In my search to help lift myself
I read somewhere that
Creating something,
Working with your hands
Feels good,
Can even be life saving.

That looking back to the kinds of activities
Once enjoyed as a child
Can be a springboard
To inviting joy back into your life
As an adult.

So I found a baby-step project to try–
A glitter candle jar that can be made
By following a few manageable and
Unintimidating instructions.


When I’m ready,
I’ll fish out glue and sparklies
To give small glass containers
Second lives
For no other reasons than
The process of doing looks fun
And may yield pretty results.
This idea originated from someone else
And can be found here:

Bogged down by practical sensibilities
Tight schedules and real
And imagined worry,
I convinced myself throughout the years
I lacked sufficient time
For things like this.
After all, what real use
Does making something like this provide?

Of late, I’ve determined that
Giving myself even a little more
Permission for artistic expression,
Just because,
Is time well spent,
A welcomed entrance onto
A softly lit joy stage
Complete with a more appreciative,
Kinder Self.


Translate: Facing Fear–Day 7 of Getting Dressed


Tonight I muster up
“Concentrated power of will”
To don some extra special “get up”
And attend opening night
At the CO Ballet by myself,
Some of the best company there is.
Luscious plum berry dress from holiday past,
Still looks good,
Selected to help keep my mood festive.

Haven’t worn makeup in 6 weeks
I wear a little now.
Never been a big cosmetics user
But tonight I paint my lips red
Full and fresh, ripe apple sheen.

Examining myself in a full length mirror
Inside the ladies room
Before heading to my seat,
My hearts sinks a notch.
I have to make my way among the well dressed,
But every step I take
Translates into nerves.
I worry that my appearance is lacking.

The permanence of injury
Makes me self conscious
Of my torso’s new asymmetry.
Rib cage punched inwards from my accident
Leave bones on my left, good side,
More bulbous than my right
Making my clothes fall a little differently,
Marking me forever as having been hurt there.

My musculoskeletal structure will probably
Always be lopsided, which saddens me.
I don’t yet know how this bone issue
Will effect anything muscular or cardiovascular.
Still healing, I haven’t yet asked my body
To move rigorously like it yearns to.

Will pulling in oxygen on my right side during
High intensity physical activities
Prove more difficult now?

When working my muscles hard
Will asymmetry make
An already established propensity
To tilt left, even worse?

Chiropractics or physical therapy may follow
I’m unsure.
I’ll consider those next steps later
When I’m pain free.

For now, I’ve recalibrated
Life’s pace down to slow motion.
With ego checked at the door,
My goals span only two main things:

Getting through each day
One at a time
During which getting dressed
Plays a significant role
Breathing deeply–Asking my reluctant rib cage
To expand and contract as fully as possible
To bring the most air into my lungs
Even though uncomfortable.

Even as I fret, I am aware
Things could have panned out a lot worse.

“Did you fall on snow only, you think?
Were there any rocks or
Hard ground underneath?,”
The doctor asked me.
I hadn’t even thought about the more
Dire consequences landing on
Harder surfaces would have caused.

Thank goodness I was phone-less that day too.
My phone, too big to fit inside my coat,
Remained in the car.
Its hardness would have impaled
And further harmed me upon impact.

So, I sit here
Enjoying the din of a night out,
The hustle and bustle of a fancy venue
Complete with lighted Chihuly glasswork
Static pirouette unfolding from the ceiling.

I know I’m lucky to be here, alive
And well enough to be soaking in
A celebration of human athleticism
Combined with live, crisp orchestral music
In the first place,
A packed house
On a warmer, clear winter Friday night.


Sound: Memories of a Kitten–Day 6 of Getting Dressed


Today I saved myself
From dying a little bit.

I took a break from
What appears to be an emotionally
Tumultuous horror journey of late
To remember a kitten I once had,
A newly married adult,
My first pet ever.

So tiny and light
About 7 weeks new to the world
He could easily fit
Into my one small hand.

I think back to the moment of
Our first introduction at home.
He poked his head out of a crate
Ears pricked
Whiskers tentatively quivering
He emerged cautiously.

Gorgeously orange striped
With bright white feet,
He energed shivering violently
With fear of who knows what
Of imminent death, maybe
Of being killed right on the spot
By strangers.
Only lengthy petting and touching
Rreassured him and
Stopped the shaking.

He came to us with only 4 teeth
Two fangs on top
Two on the bottom.
To welcome him
I had laid out a big bowl
Of kitten food and water.

Once calm, he sniffed the bowls.
He drank a little
But would not eat.
He just mewed teeny but insistent
Cries that only the smallest
Of kittens still make and
Left his food untouched
That day and night.

Distressed new kitten owners
We were at a loss.
We couldn’t figure out why
He would not eat.
We went to bed mystified.

At some point the next morning
I discovered the reason–
The food pieces were too large
For his four-toothed self to chew!

So I sat on the floor
And broke every piece in the bowl
In half. Viola!
He began eating immediately
As he was hungry by this time.

So gloriously glossy
You could almost see
Your reflection in his lush coat.

In love, I simply could not
Keep my hands off and
Handled him relentlessly–
Laying him on his back while
Stroking his cheeks with my thumbs,
Retracting each and every
One of his claws, just because,
Scratching the top of his head
And sides of his face
Which he absolutely loved,
Burying my face in his
Milk soft underside
As he lay on his side.

I remember the satisfying sound
Of his purr, so loud,
A well-oiled motor, running
So that his mother knew
He was alive and well.

As a kitten, he purred
So long and so often.
He was a happy lively guy then
Often chasing our heels
As we walked
Biting our ankles.

No children yet,
He was my first baby.

Focusing my thoughts on
The memory of his best,
Most adorable self,
Opened my heart up to
Receiving joy again.

This nod to younger, simpler times
Sspread a much needed warmness
Inside me.
I’m glad for that moment.


Seriousness: A 30 Second Highlight–Day #5 of 30



My hope today
Thin and capricious
Like swirly hot milk steam
Stems from my ability to
Feel faint delight springing up
Upon opening a new jar of
Organic preserves.

The seriousness of luxuriating in
Solitary morning enjoyment
Moves me
Makes my mouth water in anticipation.
Swimmingly dark gelatinous gems
Lightly sweetened
Shimmering deep ruby
Atop hot multi-grain bread
So magnanimous in
Crunchy, golden brown presentation.

Certain days,
That taking note of 30 seconds
Marks a major highlight.


Resist: Pharmalogical Considerations

I’ve just uncovered
The likely reason behind
Why getting out of bed
Has been so hard.
Why staying out of bed
During the day
Has proved so difficult,
Almost impossible
To resist lately, when
I’ve never been
The stay in bed all day type.

“You need the rest anyway,”
Doesn’t work here because
All this inertia has left me
Physically limp and
Emotionally hollow
As I’m built
To run, jump, reach.

While I may have indeed caught a
Second, minor cold,
Turns out, I’m not actually
This sick, tired or depressed!

The combining of multiple
Sometimes dicey,
To treat rib pain,
Post nasal dripping
And coughing has
Literally brought me to my knees.

But I realize now that
I can, in fact, turn the corner
To the next episode
Just by curtailing the use of
Extra strength Tylenol,
The newest addition to my regimen.

I had switched to Tylenol
From ibuprofen in the first place to
Combat an upset stomach
From so much ibuprofen usage.
But I’m at the point
Where I can probably
Get by using less
Anti-inflammatories anyway.

This discovery is a relief,
Something within my power to control.
I already took the bad combination
This morning
Before making the connection but
Feel more confident that I can leave
This exhausting haze behind and
Can cultivate a better,
More lively attitude
By the end of today.

This commentary
May be of no interest or importance
To anyone else, I realize
But may make a huge
Positive difference in my attempts
To begin living again.


Lukewarm: Day #4 of the Broken Boned “Wear a Different, Cute Outfit” 30-Day Campaign



Today marks a new week.
I’m determined to leave
Lukewarm paralysis
And return to living
With baby steps up and out
Of the sink hole.

My goals to accomplish today are:

– Clean the bathroom mirror
Shiny and streak free

– Write that list to make
Home feel plenty again
By filling cupboards and freezer
With tasties

– Clean the kitchen (somewhat)
To prepare for incoming
Boxes and bags From that trip

– Draw whimsically–me holding
A fat, unhappy drenched cat
While standing knee deep
In a flooded bathroom
From my dream last night

– Gently get back into the pool
With the lightest of swims.
I think I’m ready.

– Attend a scheduled dance
Performance scored with
A live baroque chamber orchestra

– Greet the day by getting dressed

– Seek and find something
Or someone to genuinely smile at


Tremble: Waiting for This to Pass

My heart wants to burst
With the agony only unlikeables
Sinking deeply beneath
Misery’s quicksand know.

An explosion of
Breaking blood vessels
A trillion-man capillary army
Gushes out onto the pavement
Rampant in flow but
Evaporates up into
Immediate anonymity.

Where does my love go
My hopes
What I look forward to
What I expect and dream of?

Healthy outlook
Extinguished instantly.
A candle snuffed out.
Positive inspired movement
Just gone.

Dry mouthed days like these
Feel like a lifetime wasted.
No more stories to pen
No more drawings to make
Or people to make smile,

Notions that this world
Wasn’t made for me
Or that I
Wasn’t made for this world,
Like I just don’t fit in anywhere
Job and career wise
Weigh on me.

Each passing moment realized
A ten ton rock placed
On my already bent back
Hard and relentless,
Leaving me paralyzed.
Maybe I’ll just go away,
Vanish in an insignificant haze.

But no.
I will not just disappear
Because I exist.

I hate drowning in
This bleak desert,
The luxuriating in self pity
Is numbing, pointless.
I half know how to swim and
Probably even want to float
To the surface light
But I can’t seem to
Get my limbs to work right now.

So I lay here in bed, midday,
And take shelter from
Rough wind’s tremble
Until better feelings overcome me
Or, at least until
The children come home
When I have to rise.

Then, I promise to be
Better company.
Equipped in well-being,
I’m sure to be more agile
As I stretch out long
To reach for
The utmost crafty branches
And plump fruits
Life has to offer.


Lush: Game of Thrones Book Project–Day 3


Yesterday marks an ending of sorts.
Detailed note taking for
Game of Thrones books
A two and a half year project.
Every book
Each chapter
To keep similar and
Oddly spelled names and
The intricate relationships
Between numerous characters straight
As well as to ingest
Each plot twist and
Simmering intrigue
More intensely than
Plain old reading through affords.

Who cares, so what?

I care.
Not so much for
What I can do with those notes
Which is likely absolutely nothing
But for the sheer enjoyment
The process of filling up
Notebook after notebook with my
Interpretations and observations
Gifted me.

I felt strong inside for the
Patience and persistence required
Like getting a handle on
Untwining thin chains
Knotted together
Making wearing those necklaces
Impossible, otherwise.

The detail,
The development of
People’s humanity
And thought processes revealed
Complexity of personality.
That few people are
Truly all good or bad.
That misfortune and good tidings
Come to everyone,
Just a matter of when and what.

This knowledge and
Deeper understanding
Gave me an inexplicable sense
Of power as an active reader
Walking around
Breathing in the
Day to day life of this world
Versus skimming the top
To gleam only the notable
Architecture and well known
Activities from a tourist bus
Passing through town.

I wish more
Of life’s experiences
Expectations and living
Could be as lush as this:
Unhurried and regarded
Infused with everlasting subdued