Hello Moon**

Journal Entry:  August 11, 2014


full moon morning

Full Moon Morning

I stepped out onto the back porch this morning and looked up to see the moon, still full, setting in the sky. I don’t recall a full moon ever on an August 11th, but that doesn’t mean that it hasn’t ever happened.

Today is my birthday.

“What a nice surprise.” I tell the moon.

“Sure thing!” He says.  “Happy Birthday!”

“Thank you.” I say

That moon-man smiling down on me, greeting me on my special day, makes me think about how long I have been here. I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve looked up and smiled at him in my five decades and one year.

I had my coffee, my vanilla protein shake with an organic peach and I wrote in my journal.  I left the house happy.  I drove through emptier-than-normal-for-a-Monday streets and parked in the almost vacant lot by my spinning studio.  I was greeted upstairs with smiles and birthday wishes.

During class, our instructor Mandy said, “Grab your water and grab your breath.” I don’t know if she meant to say grab, but that’s what I heard.

I looked over the parking lot, to the palm trees and couldn’t help but think about the word.  Grab.

What have I grabbed for in my life? What else will I reach for and grab? I grab a ripe Meyer lemon from our tree in the back yard — twist and pull.  I pluck opportunities as they ripen on their vines. What will I reach for next?

At 51, I am still like a child that picks and chooses what to discover and explore next.  Although, I haven’t had to grab for that much; the important, life-changing things come to me.

I get clear.
I ask.
I let go.
I receive.

It seems easy and in a way it is, but there is the work of getting clear and letting go, sometimes it can be a challenge. Although, at this place it isn’t as much work as it was when I was in another place.

That’s what happened with Bill.  It’s not that we didn’t reach for each other.  We did.  It’s how we came to be within each other’s reach, in that particular instant, that I find interesting.

I’ve written about it many times, it was as simple as that.

Why does the moon smile down on me?
Why did Bill and I get swaddled together in that moment?
Why am I blessed with this life?

I don’t know that I have answers for these questions.  I may never.  I’m good with that.  I’ll unwrap full moon birthday wishes, and magic instead of answers.

Happy Birthday to Me!


** Excerpt from the book that I am currently writing.



winter dreams


Sometimes I like starting over.  Getting a do over! Like when we were kids.  That didn’t count, do OVER!   I mean I start over ever day, don’t I? Isn’t that what life is about? I wake up, open my eyes, look at the light and start over.  I begin again. A new day has dawned and I start.  Even if I’m continuing I’m starting.

It reminds me of a song. Something I can’t quite place, but I hear the melody, the base, in the distant parts of my brain.  It’s back there, deep in the dark corners.  Maybe it’s under a box with yellowed folded love letters and old Polaroid’s.  I know it’s there because I can feel the song, seeping into my body, my limbs, but I can’t remember the song.  You know what I mean? I can feel it, just can’t quite remember it.  It’s like a memory, a flash of light, a sliver of color, a wedge of a dance, or a hint of a kiss.


like the moon that night
hanging low
shining  full
blue silver
the snow turning to ice
reflecting alice blue
under his steel blue gaze
he smiles with his round eyes
that mona lisa smile
i am nine
maybe ten
standing in fresh flurry

it’s new year’s eve
my parents are out
at a party
in the city
with their friends
my father’s arms pulling
my mother into him
celebrating thirteen years
and magic

josie, keeps us warm and happy at home

she lived down a long gravel road
in a red ranch house
my mother would drive
we’d sit in the back
waiting for josie to come out of her red house
so she could come to our house
to cook us rice  pudding
and read tom kitten’s mittens
she stuttered a little
when she said kitten and mitten
we all laughed
and ate our warm pudding

at midnight josie opens the front door
of our house
and we spill into the glimmering
into the night
this is our secret
she says

my footprints are first
my sister’s follow
we make our mark
then run to the neighbors
jumping diving leaving trails
on their pristine winter white lawns
“i’m the first one to step here!”
i sing into the sky
“i’m the first one to jump here!”
my sister laughs
“i’m the first one…”
we are two
glowing snow suited phantoms

our friends parents are strict
guarding their doors
at home
they are not at a party
in the city

we crunch back to our front lawn
fall back
kick our feet out
flap our arms up and down
careful to get up
without marring our perfect
powder blue angels