Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

For nearly three years now, I've been on a journey to live with less, to simplify and find happiness in the small things. Before becoming more intentional about the way I want to live, I thought about it a lot while reading anything and everything offering ways to pare down, to do without, to recycle and even upcycle. Along the way, I threw in anything and everything about Buddhism, at first out of curiosity but then because I found the teachings fit with how I want to continue with my journey. Most days the journey is smooth, with me considering others' ideas, needs, and wants and doing what I can to help. Other days, the journey's path becomes full of potholes that are difficult for me to maneuver. Sometimes, I even fall into a pothole. And while I climb out, brush myself off, and continue on, I do feel a bit bruised, which is how I'm feeling right now. Today was beautiful. Sunny. Very little wind. I spent the morning reading then hanging out with Funny Delightful S...

Three years ago this morning, the phone rang just after 4 am, and I knew it was the call we'd been waiting for. The one telling us Mom had slipped away, leaving this world for the next. I remember sitting on the edge of the bed, talking with my sister and being sad but at the same time feeling some solace in knowing Mom was no longer suffering. I still get sad at times when I think about her, the sadness more over how her body became her enemy during the last 20 or so years of her life. I hope my body and I don't ever become enemies, and it is because of this hope that I decided how I was going to spend my day today, in memory of her. Initially I thought about getting a sky lantern and writing a message on it to send up to the heavens. Then I thought about getting a floating lantern to send out onto the lake. Each of those ideas, though, just weren't dazzling me, even when I had both in the cart and was ready to hit the Buy button. Since the dazzle factor was nonexistent,...

The last few weeks have been extra busy at work. I decided to keep things as simple as possible, so I drove to work instead of riding my bike. I missed my bike. Today I rode, but before I walked out the door to head to work, I grabbed my camera, thinking I just might need it.

In October, Hubby and I went to a small town north of where we live to ride the Hennepin Canal. We've ridden the I&M Canal at times and wanted to check out another section further west. Hubby took total control of putting this ride together, wanting us to have a day of riding, enjoying the fall colors and lunch at a diner along the route. The morning of the ride dawned chilly but sunny, and we set off, my only request being that we take the back roads to get to our destination. Hubby obliged. Gears from a lock That day, that ride, turned out to be one of those times I think back to often and smile. It was that good. Our planned 15ish miles of riding turned into 33 miles due to arriving at what we had hoped would be our lunch spot only to find the diner was no longer in operation. We were able to get a pop at the antiques store that was open, giving us at least a little bit of a boost to keep us going long enough to reach the small town of Sheffield about five miles south....

Sometimes a gnawing sadness settles over me. Not often. Just every now and again. It’s been with me now for a few weeks, just enough for me to know it’s there. I recognize it for what it is and find ways to counter it, like riding my bike even though the temperature is below 20 degrees, and allowing myself to slip into comfy sweatpants and a warm sweater as soon as I get home from work, usually around 4 pm. This signals to the family that I’m done for the day. They tease me about my propensity for putting on pajamas so early. I just snuggle up on the couch and let the world go about its business without me. More recently, I found another way to ease the sadness. When I take the dogs for their walks, and Ado decides it’s time to sit down for a break, instead of tugging at him to continue, I let him sit. I watch where his eyes go and I look where he looks. One time he was watching a crow fly overhead. Another time he saw a couple of squirrels chasing each other around the trunk of a tre...