Flowing grateful

September 24, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For a birthday breakfast.

Of food.

And presents.

Spiced with love.

And wrapped in hugs.


By a lazy rest.

In a dark cool room.

And a walk on the beach.

As pink light fell.

For a holey stone.

And seaglass.

Washed clean.

With Yoreh.

The first rain.


Like a long forgotten feeling.




Fighting windmills

September 23, 2011

Today I counted.

The ads.

And admonitions.

For elusive beauty.

And fountains of youth.

In miracle creams.

And botox vials.


Nips and tucks.

All promising.

A different life.


Fighting windmills.

But not wrinkles.


Feeling better

September 6, 2011

Been sick.

A lesson or reminder.

In letting go.

Of steering life.

And trusting it will take me.

Where it will.

And hold me steady.

On the rocky bits.

Helping wade through.

What I’d rather jump over.



Thinking of Awesome Things

August 15, 2011


Of Awesome Things.

A kiss from my teenager.

Walking barefoot in the grass.

Having an early night.

Fresh coffee in the morning.

Dropping the bread butter-side up.

Smelling flowers.

A clean bathroom when you’re desperate.

Waking at five. With two more hours to sleep.

Great food and no dishes to wash.

The time between day and night.

Knowing it’s the weekend.

Finding forgotten cash.

Eating the last cookie.

Rain showers on a hot day.

Getting off a longhaul flight.

The smell of my kids’ hair.

Looking great when you meet an ex.

Finding an old skinny photo.

Rain on a tin roof.

Hearing a song that takes you back.

Thanks Neil Pasricha.

For such an awesome blog.


Rayne Wiselman

Catching up

August 5, 2011

Spent time.

With an old friend.

Comforted that.

In spite of.

Greying hairs.

The heart.

Neither wrinkles.

Nor sags.


By rehashed stories.

And good times shared.


With tears and tales.

Of loss and sweet regret.


By an ageless sense of humor.

And laughter that doesn’t dim.




August 5, 2011

Lost sight.

Of myself.

This week.

In busy days.

Of bustle.

And practicalities.

External doing.


With internal quiet.

Thoughts racing.

And no quiet time sat.

Trying to remember.

Where I left.


And recall.

The stillness.


Flowing grateful

July 25, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For fresh white walls.

And cold vanilla ice cream.

That didn’t melt.

Before I ate it.

For the jellyfish.

And bees.

That swam and flew away.

For a new movie soundtrack.

Of Xavier and Mishka.

And the summer vacation.

Of late mornings.

To sleep.

And no sandwiches.

To make.


July 25, 2011

Painting my house.


On the calmness of white.

Or splashes of blue.


I know.

In the grand design.

But on those days.

Where I wrap my home.

Around me.

Like a hug.

What color hug.

Do I want?


Counting to fifty

July 11, 2011

My husband and kids.

Family present and past.

Messy photos and memories.

And childhood smells.

Beach walks and driftwood.

The feeling of home.

Wood-oven baked pizza.

And a candle lit porch.

Cadbury’s chocolate.

Chai tea in winter.

Home-grown herbs.

And bubbling soup.

Pansies and roses.

Sweet peas. Frangipanis.

The white scent of jasmine.

And grapes on the vine.

Sunrise and sunset.

Rain on the rooftop.

A breeze from the ocean.

And sleeping outside.

The minute that dusk.

Turns into dark.

Crunching fresh snow.

And walking barefoot.

Nighttime driving.

With windows open.

Jewish holidays.

And birthday mornings.

Reading great blogs.

Tidy drawers.

An uncluttered house.

And a job well done.

Family meals round the table.

Watching movies.

Unlimited hugs.

And a cat on my lap.

Meditation in silence.

Old reggae music.

A Jack Johnson album.

And a well-loved book.

Lazy vacations.

Outdoor markets.

Summer fruit.

And ice cold drinks.

Cold showers on hot days.

Meeting old friends.

Kids laughing together.

And smiles at work.

A  tended garden.

White beach houses.

Walks in nature.

And waterfalls.

A chilled white wine.

A warming red.

Meandering road trips.

And an empty weekend.

A quiet morning.

A cup of coffee.

Letting go.

And inner calm.

Getting older

July 10, 2011

There’s something amazing.

About older women.

Who walk in their own skin.

With grace.

And acceptance.

Letting life take them.

Where it will.

With elegant focus.


And curving.

The feminine.


And tasting.

The juice.

And flavor.


Each drop.