Tag Archives: Jamie Ridler

Gratitude Friday

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springleemartinez1. Spring. Bird song, green, blooms, blue skies.

2. Hard boiled eggs, crackers, and Sprite. I had a touch of food poisoning and this was all I could eat yesterday.

3. A month in Waldport. We are all paid up, making plans, and dreaming of the beach. I am setting an intention to pack less, do less once we get there, and get Ringo ready to ride in the way back with Sam like a big boy.

We are also taking some of Dexter's ashes to scatter at one of his favorite places.

We are also taking some of Dexter’s ashes to scatter at one of his favorite places.

4. Ringo. He’s continuing to grow up and get easier. He got his staples removed, the gash over his eye all healed up, and then went back to daycare and spent the day playing. I was looking at him the other day and realized his spots, his specs look just like the night sky, like the Milky way or something.

sleepypink5. Sam. He’s still doing well, getting weaned off his pain medication. That plus all the playing he does with Ringo brings him back to the young, vibrant dog he should be at four years old. He’s such a sweet, sensitive boy too, tries to intervene when Ringo’s getting in trouble or he thinks we are playing too hard or when we are having an animated conversation that might be fighting.

"Make me dinner, Mom."

“Make me dinner, Mom.”

Bonus Joy: I’m a little nervous about this one, but excited — Jamie Ridler is interviewing me for her Creative Living podcast. I’m not nervous to talk to Jamie about creativity, until I look at the other people she’s interviewed, so many of my favorite creatives. How did I end up on that list?!

Wishcasting Wednesday

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from Jamie's post

from Jamie’s post

Today, and for the last time, Jamie asks, “What do you wish for?” It’s taken me all morning to be able to show up here, attempt an answer. I’m sad, for all kinds of reasons, and this is another — Jamie is no longer going to host Wishcasting Wednesday on her site. She’ll offer the practice in other ways, but this version of it is ending. I didn’t expect that, not today, and even though change is inevitable and sometimes even for the best, I’m feeling tender about it.

This season is always rough. There’s not as much light, the days are shorter and colder, the sky is gray and dark more often, everything in nature going to sleep, there are no more flowers or fruits, green has turned to gray and brown. I don’t travel to visit with family (we go in the summer), so my tiny little family is alone for the holidays. I am reminded of everything, everyone we’ve lost, we miss. In the rush to prepare for various celebrations, crowds of people gather but in their hurry they can be so rude, so mean to each other, so unkind. I understand that feeling of overwhelm, of irritation. I’m feeling it myself. There’s so much left to do before tomorrow, before next week, before next month, and sometimes I just want to slow down, to stop, to hibernate, to rest, to forget. It’s a season of letting go and it’s hard.

Don’t get me wrong, I love twinkle lights and pie and warm sweaters and hot apple cider and Christmas music and snow as much as anyone, but there’s also something really sad and lonely about this time of year when it feels like everything is changing or so far away, over or gone.

I’ve wished with Jamie 68 times, and I’ve wished with other people who were also practicing. I am so grateful to Jamie for continuing to guide us, provide prompts and a place to share, for as long as she did. I wish along with her for open space where new ventures can grow and new adventures can begin.

Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. ~Gilda Radner

I wish to remember that as Ram Dass said, “we are all just walking each other home.”

I wish for us all to remember that we are fundamentally whole, basically good, inherently wise and compassionate, and wish that we can forgive ourselves and others when the way we act is not in accordance with that truth.

I wish for us to know that every being just wants to be happy and safe, loved, but that we get confused sometimes about how to make that happen.

I wish that we all begin to ask “where do I see suffering?” and do what we can to ease it, in ourselves and in the world.

I wish that we keep our hearts open, to joy and love and suffering, that we meet what arises in the moment, allow it to touch us, and when the time comes, let it go.