Learning to listen

Yesterday I did that thing. Listening but not hearing.

Too busy thinking of my next remark to pay attention to another.

A one-way conversation because I’m talking to myself.

It’s not deliberate. We all do it.

Our chattering thoughts are always a few steps ahead or a long way behind.

I try to still those thoughts. To be here. To hear those around me.

Thinking of friends

On holidays I think of friends.

Past and present. Here and gone.

Those in touch. And those who touched in passing.

Friends who reside across oceans and years.

Who continue conversations started decades ago.

Whose lines (like mine) are counted from life and laughter and cares.

Who don’t take the world (or themselves) too seriously.

Whose imperfections make mine easier to live with.

You know who you are. I wish you well. And thank you.

Cooking and connecting

Most nights I cook with my eye on the finish line.

Prepare, serve, clean up, done.

But as the week closes I smell chicken soup bubbling.

I plan my potions and brews.

And throw a little love and time into the pot, together with the herbs.

I wait for food to connect us as only food can.

And honor the week’s end.