Another Day

The snow is falling once again in Northern Alberta. The wood stove is stoked up for the night, and here in the other end of the house, a small electric fireplace is keeping my feet from getting cold.  The animals are all curled up in the warmest spots - they have a natural ability to reflect the desire for warmth.  How compelling that desire can be - motivating me to stay indoors and watch the snow fall through the somewhat frosted glass of the window.  The cold runs through my life like a vein of stark metal in the warm earth, penetrating the spaces between all the seasons of my joy.  I count the winter months away, ticking them off gratefully, and looking forward to the first signs of spring - prolonging the more pleasant activities of winter - the holiday season with its parties and celebrations, the setting out of lights to brighten the darkness, which already in mid-November is coming in mid-afternoon, creating the sense that the day is over almost before it has begun.  Once I am used to the reality of the cold, I can find things to enjoy - the sun sparkling on the snow, the warmth of a chinook wind, and even the howl of a blizzard around my sanctuary of warmth.  My life has had its seasons too, it seems, its summers of celebration and winters of waiting.

Whatever This Day May Bring

whether I like it or not, is perfect.
I listen to my body – or I don’t
I feed myself only when | am hungry
or I find myself wondering when I last ate -
I respond to all the requests that are made of me,
the dogs, the cats, the telephone
I receive all my messages, e-mail and facebook
participate in the activities of my friends
answer questions, negotiate resolutions
think about what to put on my to do lists
read a little, play a little, and think about
how my cells communicate with each other
through the myriad cascades of environmental stimuli
chemically bombarding them, and helping me
to become an even better mirror for the world around me.