Tag Archives: Jamie Ridler

Wishcasting Wednesday

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Jamie is back wishcasting today, and asks “how do you wish to spend your days?” I want to live inside this question. I love thinking about how I want to spend my time, what I want to do and how I want to feel, but I especially love that my answer is so close to the life I am currently living.

I wish to spend my days…

Awake. In awareness, practicing mindfulness, doing yoga and meditating.

Present and open, deep in basic goodness — wisdom and compassion and strength and gentleness.

Spreading love, making peace, writing love letters, love bombing the whole world.

Expressing creativity and experiencing joy, manifesting love.

Writing while the birds sing outside my open window, fresh flowers on my desk and dogs sleeping at my feet.

Long walks by the river, at the park, in the mountains, noticing all the subtle shifts and changes in those places, connecting with the vibrant life that fills them.

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Reading in a chair in the backyard, under the shade of a tree, under the vast blue sky, the soft grass under my bare feet and two dogs lounging nearby.

Caring for my home — doing laundry, cooking, washing dishes, sweeping, gardening, all of the things that make the space we live in feel clear and clean, beautiful and safe.

Making Eric laugh, caring for him, letting him love me.

Sleeping, getting enough rest.

Connecting with friends, making friends.

Laughing.

Writing, making art, teaching, being creative and curious, making offerings and being of service.

Easing suffering, in myself and the world.

Opening my heart to all of it — beautiful and brutal, tender and terrible.

Everything Changes

Another Wednesday without a wishcast prompt. And yet, I’m feeling a powerful need to make wishes — big wishes, important wishes, wishes for healing and peace.

I wish good health and healing for Jamie’s mom. I wish for strength, peace, and comfort for Jamie and anyone else loving and supporting her mom right now.

I wish for Dexter not to suffer, (he was at the emergency vet three weeks ago, his nose has been bleeding more that usual — whatever “usual” even means when cancer is involved — and on Saturday, he sprained his leg — a different one, not the one he’s already in physical therapy for). I also continue to wish that he have an easy death, whenever that might come.

I wish good luck, a safe trip and a workable outcome for my friend Ann. Today she’s making another visit to a doctor in Boston who might have a new treatment option for her cancer. No matter what happens, I wish her and her partner ease, comfort, and clarity.

I wish comfort for my friend Susan, my dear friend Kelly‘s mom. This past week had to have been so rough for her, with Mother’s Day and the three year anniversary of Kelly’s passing just days apart — but I also know that the arrival of a new granddaughter is offering so much joy. I wish for comfort for all of us who love Kelly and still feel so sad, miss her so much, who will forever carry that ache.

So many are suffering. It can feel overwhelming sometimes. But just when I start to feel like it’s all too much, someone does or says or makes or shares something so beautiful, that I remember: life is tender and terrible, beautiful and brutal — keep your heart open.

Today, it was a post on Hopeful World. It included beautiful words from Jen Lemen, who has been the healing balm for my own suffering so many times I’ve stopped counting. The video in the post is one she’d shared with me back in September, at a moment when it was just what I needed, and my response to it was just what she needed, but I was sworn to secrecy. I’ve been waiting patiently for her to share it with the world, so I could share it with you, and today is the day.

Everything changes. And when we can remember that during the low times, our hearts can fill with hope. And when we can tell each other this in the good times, our hearts can fill with gratitude. No matter what, we can be gentle, we can be kind. And we can remember, that even in this, we are never, ever alone. ~Jen Lemen