Lines of existence blurred beyond care and recognition, we are forever intertwined, fused and growing older together.

Will I ever come back from a walk without lessons in my hands?

For all the training I’ve done on the merits of active listening, I’m still on the student side of the lectern most days.

I can only imagine the lives they’ve touched with this good spirit of helpfulness.

Somewhere between “plenty” and “just enough” light, the moon sat comfortably on my shoulder, gentle and glowing companion as I walked where the deer had been.

When winter feels unending, I lean on the mystery of every living being that goes under for the duration.

I’m making my way through and realize I’ve pushed the chunks of sausage aside, saving them for last.

I felt that internal swaying one often has when going all dreamy in the presence of great joyful possibility.

What if…we could tell our stories honestly and be given acknowledgement that they’re still being written?

I still stand beneath them all and wonder where summer went.

These days, I find myself comfortably going to those mind-attic places, unpacking the dusty boxes and trunks of my life lived so far, and holding the contents to my chest in reverence, gratitude and love.

Wedged snugly in the line of trees that caught it, this gentle giant wasn’t going anywhere.

Face-up on the massage table, I let the tears run down my temples and past the top curve of my ears, enchanted and profoundly, wordlessly grateful.

The electrician is still scratching his head about that part of our story…and in the meantime, I’ve been researching the house’s poltergeist history.

By the time the parchment-lined baking sheet is in the oven, the drainer is a monument to dish Jenga.

In the grand scheme of things, we’re barely on the sidelines of anyone else’s stories but our own, and that’s on our best days.

It didn’t look like much but as I walked away, I could have sworn I heard someone exhale in relief.

A reality had come home to roost—I was no longer thirty-something with energy to spare.

Our collective attention turned to the home base and away from the grassy prairies of Sundance grounds.

Here I sit in between granola batches and these paragraphs, watching…and learning.