Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Reflections July 2, 2019

As I awoke the sun rising through my window, offered me glowing sheets of colour.   The familiar early morning bathroom visit, did not lead to more sleep rather I find myself on my front porch, filled just hours before with friends,  old friends.   The kind of people who have seen me at my best and at my worst.   Those people who have sat with me through deep sorrow, and great celebration,  people who have heard me rage, and have loved me through all of it.

Together we celebrated friendship that crossed barriers of time and space, together we celebrated the gift of living in Canada.  We discussed climate change, our grandchildren, our immigrants histories, our hopes, our fears.   We shared food, lots of food, we walked, we sat, we smelled the roses ( literally, this cool damp spring has created happy roses!).  We laughed,  oh how we laughed.    Some of us dove into georgian bay refreshed by the balm of healing waters,  some of us just walked along side, and some stayed at the house, reading, relaxing, napping.  

We celebrated Canada day 2019.

A few days before that I found myself sitting on a peaceful back porch at the home of an indigenous elder sharing our stories of life.  We sat together in silence and in conversation, we sat with the chipmunks and the dragon flies ( there were not many mosquitos).  We were born only months apart from one another.  We shared some experiences in our early lives,  we had many different experiences.  No one in my family was a residential school survivor.  

I went to a one room school for my first four years of my education.  I found arrow heads in the fields on my farm,  I collected them.  I did not know the first peoples who had lived on our farm, no one told me stories of them.   The indigenous settlement that was unearthed when a highway was being built near the farm I grew up on was cause for curiosity in my life.  I knew missionaries who worked in Indian schools up north.

Today I reflect,  and I invite you to join with me in reflection.    

The world has changed, is changing.   I am an  agent of change.   We are agents of change.

It is often hard to know how to use my privilege to make the world a better place,  for me and you...
and I am reminded of Mari's reminder to me that my guilt does no good,  so I live with privilege and I make choices out of that privilege.

I make choices with the knowledge that old and new relationships hold me.
I make choices with the confidence that Margaret Mead is right.  

I do not doubt that a small group of committed people can make a difference,  I  know it is the only thing that ever has.

Join me in making a difference and in celebrating the positive difference others are making, even  if, even when their choices are different than yours... and thanks for reading my early morning musings from my wonderful space here on the porch on West Street.

gkn July 2, 2019

Friday, June 21, 2019


Moving through minds sky
overlapping image,
sofa body filled conversation
untangling clutter


notice the owl,
see it, a book, a truth
over there, higher, moving

views obstructed,
grief, life, joy
fills, empties truth
mine, yours

ever moving

gkn June 2019

Monday, June 10, 2019

word less

Today I grieve, today I celebrate, today I question, today words seem so inadequate and yet I feel the need to write.  Oh the contradictions of life on this earth.   I grieve today.  I grieve  lives taken too soon.

This mornings email from a friend about the death of her soul mate, has shaken me.  

I celebrate with my friend as she reflects on her best friend/husbands death when she says she will live fully for both of them,   when she states I can do it ( and I KNOW she can!).

I grieve.

Sliding doors, those doors that invite us to step carefully, thoughtfully with abandon into life.  Those doors that challenge us to open them as we take another risk on love, on life when all else seems hopeless.

Those doors greet me daily and sometimes I notice them, sometimes I jump aside, sometimes I step in with enthusiasm, somedays I do not even notice that they are there.

Today I feel a renewed call to noticing, a renewed call to loving, to living in the now, in all the risky ways the spirit calls me to respond.

Today, I grieve with gratitude.

gkn June 2019

Thursday, June 6, 2019


The monarch chorus,
carrying hope for a longing soul
species decline, endangered
counting, counted fifty in
last years garden


in the tree an orange flash


limb to limb
branches hold wonder


the book educated

those who love
live  breathe

a smile, a confident nod
knowledge gained
from mother

gkn June 2019

Tuesday, May 28, 2019


i got a rejection letter today.  
She read my work carefully.

I valued her feedback.
I got a response...

She read my work,
she said it was well written!

she inspired Me to submit again,
and to wait,

for another encouraging
or maybe
....this one

gkn May 2019

Monday, May 20, 2019


Pedals whirling,
precipitous emotions,
the congregation sings

brakes unresponsive, tears,
unbidden, gears shift,

wind blows through tangles,
wrapped in experience,
another story  


may 2019

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

In the Stillness

The wood stove in the kitchen is hot,
maple sap boiling, it must be spring
the record player running in the next room,
might be Loretta Lynn.

Grief is present,  disconnected,
a soul soon leaving,
 "precious memories,how they linger"
this heart is grieving.

Another grandma denied connection,
the songs still plays from long ago
"precious sacred scenes unfold'"
sun is setting,
    there's no forgetting.

Pain, and anger, love and sharing,
hopes and dreams
            alive they swell,
"the sun is sinking, shadows falling,"
remember the losses,
fears tell well.

A granddaughter naps beside me,
the dryer runs on the floor below,
no songs are playing in the next room,
I hear a caw
is it a crow?

gkn April 2019

all quotes from lyrics from Precious Memories written by Alan Jackson