Tuesday, July 18, 2017


Sometimes a book comes along that is unexpected. No fanfare. No preconceived notions. I can’t recall why I picked it up. It may be a bestseller now. It may have stellar reviews. I really don’t know.

What I can say is, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker was a pleasure to read from beginning to end. This is a gentle story, full of mystery and magic. A young woman from a prominent New York family graduates from law school. Her family celebrates with her. The next day, her beloved father, also an attorney, disappears with no explanation.

Four years pass with no word. She realizes she knows nothing of her father’s past. He is of Burmese descent, but all she knows of his life began when he arrived in America. A box is discovered by her mother and sent to her. In it, among other things, is an old letter. This letter compels her to go to Burma, hoping to find him.

Don’t miss this one.

Sunday, June 18, 2017


The Japanese culture has embraced some enchanting ideas. My latest discovery is the term Shinrin-Yoku. Literally translated, it means “Forest bathing.” The idea is to expose oneself to trees, to nature, for the purpose of healing. Imagine that as a prescription from a western physician. Well, maybe a doctor of Alternative medicine. Otherwise? I don’t think so. This is not a criticism. It’s that our culture is growing but has not yet embraced all ideas as more ancient ones. Makes sense, when you think about it. They have had centuries to get some things right.

Stay with me, here. Who of you has not experienced the quiet of a park, or a forest, or the mesmerizing calm of the ocean? Well, as it turns out, I’m behind the times. When I googled Shinrin-Yoku, it turns out there is an Association of Nature and Forest Therapy which promotes and uses Shinrin-Yoku. It has hundreds of guides here in the U.S. alone. I stand corrected.

The benefits have researchers amazed. It lowers blood pressure, reduces stress, increases concentration and mental clarity. It also increases the number of cancer fighting cells in the body. Just wow.

Years ago, when my children were little, and my stress level got high, I would go outside and sit on the back porch. We lived in a forested area so it was perfect. My fifteen minutes of “porch-time” never failed to calm me. My porch-time was Shinrin-Yoku. Who knew?

Leave your cell phone at home.

Monday, June 12, 2017


Quite unknowingly, I stumbled into the Cozy Mystery genre without realizing it. I was looking for an easy book-on-tape for traveling. I picked up an M.C. Beaton mystery because I seemed to remember the name from somewhere.

First to clarify, a Cozy Mystery generally features a talented, non-professional, mystery solver, such as Miss Marple of Agatha Christie fame or Jessica Fletcher from the popular Murder She Wrote series by Donald Bain. When I started researching this I remembered that Hallmark also has gained quite a following for their untrained female sleuths on several mystery series. So this genre is quite popular. Who knew?

I did read a few Agatha Christie novels in my teens. And in my mind, she is probably the master. But my first Cozy Mystery in adulthood is Death of A Liar by Beaton. I have to say, I may be hooked. For an easygoing, not-too-gruesome mystery fix it was great fun. The detective, technically a professional (although albeit an unconventional one) is Hamish McBeth (Great name, right? Turn around three times and spit over your shoulder!) It was entertaining to watch him work out the murder and navigate a score of beautiful women to boot. His greatest challenge may be his somewhat bumbling sidekick, Dick.

Beaton is extremely prolific. The Hamish McBeth books, thirty-three and counting, is only one of several popular series by her. If you indulge, you won’t run out of material soon.

Fun, easy, escapist.

Monday, May 22, 2017


I am curiously relieved. It turns out there is actually a Japanese name for what I am. A name for one of my idiosyncrasies, anyway. I was just commenting to my husband the other day that I am not safe in a bookstore. I seem to be unable to leave without at least one purchase. Usually more than one. My bookcases are overflowing, my bookshelves likewise. My bedside table, forget about it. I also make frequent trips to the library for books-on-tape as well as any title that catches my eye. So here’s the thing. I’ll never read them all. I’m just not that speedy a reader. Somehow, that is a non-issue. Go figure.

For me, reading is not only important, it’s an integral part of life. Not as important as say, spending time with family or looking at the ocean, but right up there.  One of my favorite childhood memories was going with my mother to a little bookstore called The Cigar Store. I guess they sold cigars, I don’t know, but I do know they sold lots and lots of magazines and lots and lots of books. Browsing there was bliss.

Happy Reading!

The article from the Huffington Post is here:

The Old Butcher’s Bookshop, Paris.
Re-pinned by http://sunnydaypublishing.com/books

Saturday, May 13, 2017


The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden is a breath of fresh air. This author’s first novel promises more delights to come. It is categorized as a fantasy but it is much more. It does indeed have fantastical elements, the main character having second sight and the ability to communicate with horses as well as house spirits, wood nymphs and all manner of mystical creatures.

It is set in fifteenth century Russia and brings forth all the richness, not only in dress and custom of that period but also the beliefs and superstitions. The book jacket tells us that Arden, herself has lived an unconventional, interesting life. She not only majored in Russian literature but lived in Russia and immersed herself in it’s culture.

The main character, Vasilisa faces challenges that are not unlike those faced by women today. She refuses to fit into the mold her patriarchal family, the church and society expect of her. Her mother, herself gifted, died in childbirth knowing what her daughter’s abilities and challenges would be.

Some critics have found Arden’s descriptions overdone, but I found her use of language beautiful and unique. Because of this, the world of Vasilisa comes vibrantly alive. Arden’s inclusion of Russian names and terms is done skillfully and add texture. A glossary of terms is also thoughtfully included.

Highly Recommend.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

The Bliss of Planet Earth II

It’s been hard to sleep. The political climate in this country is so explosive and disturbing it’s difficult to feel grounded, to feel safe. Instead of the news, which only serves to spike the fight-flight response, I seek other things. A good book always helps but sometimes I just want to watch TV.

My most recent discovery is Planet Earth II on BBC. There is something so sublimely comforting in watching the beauty and simplicity of animals in their natural habitat. I can’t describe the wonder of this program; it often leaves me breathless. It explores deserts, jungles, islands, oceans, mountains and the incredible animals that have adapted to and inhabit them.

I said simple, but often these adaptations are more complex than you would think possible. There is a fish that creates an intricate, perfectly symmetrical mosaic in the sand at the ocean bottom to attract a mate. It looks incredibly similar to a Tibetan mandala. There is a bird that clears the jungle floor not only of all debris but of any color that might detract from his mighty feather display when looking for a mate. The magnificent Snow Leopard found throughout central Asia at high elevations including the Himalayas, spends most of its life alone except when wanting to conceive. They are so solitary there is actually no name for a group of Snow Leopards. These gorgeous animals are endangered.

The life of the animals shown is not always pretty. It is often harsh and dangerous. Yet, this program with its marvels manages to soothe, astonish and inspire. If you can find it, watch it.

Happy Earth Day!

(Photo: SLF Pakistan/Snow Leopard Trust)

Saturday, April 15, 2017


A God in Ruins by Kate Atkinson was written as a companion piece to her novel, Life After Life. Atkinson won the coveted Costa prize for it as well as for Life After Life and also for Behind the Scenes at the Museum. This is a rare and unprecedented accomplishment.  I have been a fan of Atkinson since reading Behind the Scenes and her novels never disappoint.

A God in Ruins is told as the life story of Teddy, (brother of Ursula in Life after Life). The setting is during and after WWII. The story begins with Teddy as a child and ends with his death. Perhaps. He is a RAF pilot during the London blitz and the strategic bombing of Germany. The number of deaths of these boy-pilots (and they were boys) will astonish you. They were often sitting ducks for German counter attacks and they knew it. You meet not only Teddy but his bomber crews, his family, his friends, his wife, his lovers and his pets. You become deeply invested in the outcome of each life. Once again as has often been the theme of my recent reading, it explores the choices made and the paths taken and not taken.

My taste in literature rarely centers around war and certainly never RAF bombers. However, I trusted Atkinson to deliver. She tells the story forwards, backwards, present and past and often you know what is going to happen before reading about the event itself. How can this work? I have no idea, but it does. Each event threads its way through the narrative in a non-linear way…but there are no loose ends. Perhaps because I often live life in a linear way, I found this extremely satisfying.

I have yet to read Life After Life, but after this, I can’t wait.


Saturday, March 25, 2017


I’ve always loved watching sandpipers. “Sandpeepers” my children used to call them. They are exquisite little birds, determined and fleet. They rush down to the shoreline as the tide goes out,  their tiny feet a blur, pick a few morsels from the sand, then just as quickly turn and race back, just ahead of the waves. It’s a synchronistic dance; a never-ending, seemingly patient pursuit, always in the moment.      

They often seem to travel in a group, but not always. When in a group, they move like one bird, together yet not infringing on one another’s space. Alone, they are a single, perfect, zigzagging note.

Not dissimilar from our own pursuits. Their worries, if they have them, are different. No bills, no possessions to speak of. Something to think about. Watching them, I’m in the moment, too. 

Another gift from nature.

Sunday, March 12, 2017


I just finished The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. I initially picked it up at the library as a book on tape but quickly realized I wanted to read it as well. So for the first time, I read and listened to a novel at the same time. I have to say, I enjoyed every minute. Listening to the very accomplished actor on tape give each character a unique personality was simply a bonus. It also highlighted the beauty of the language.

This novel, a winner of the Pulitzer Prize, is a masterpiece. I do not say that lightly. I was absorbed from beginning to end. The story begins with a catastrophic event which alters forever the life of the main character, Theodore Decker. A random choice made by his mother and his life changes course.

The book explores many themes, one of which is the random (or are they) nature of life changing events. But it also explores the complexity of relationships, coming of age, the nature of man and the role of beauty in life. This is done with breathtaking skill and finesse. These are big themes and there are no Pollyanna punches pulled here. Nothing is wrapped up in a tidy bow. Goldfinch sometimes is difficult, sad, and occasionally gruesome. Theo is so damaged and goes down so many wrong paths you are horrified and yet still yearn for his redemption.

I have to say also that one of the most enjoyable aspects of Goldfinch was the creation by Tartt of one of the finest characters I have seen in recent literature, Theo’s best friend, Boris. He is on a superlative par with Lisbeth Salander from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. The anti-hero. Wrong in so many ways, but still with a spark of human grace. He reminds us that no one is ever just one thing.

Off the scale.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

The Algorithm of Events

Perhaps it’s the reading I have been doing lately. The thing is, it has made me think. How do events shape our lives? Intentional events, certainly, but also unintentional ones. Random events.

An intentional event would be say a wedding, a party, lunch with a friend, a trip. We expect certain outcomes and often those outcomes occur in some expected form. Intentional or planned events shape our lives, more or less, in expected ways. We see loved ones, we get to wear a pretty dress, we have a good meal, good conversation.

So what interests me the most are the random events. A chance meeting on the street, attending a seminar where you hear a philosophy that changes your life, encountering a stranger in a class who becomes a lifelong friend because you happened to introduce yourself. And you almost didn’t. Tragic, unexplainable happenings that alter your trajectory.

Every event changes us whether intentional or not. The changes may be minuscule or major. An example for me would be something that happened many years ago. I happened to read in the newspaper about an acting class being held at a local theatre. (Just reading a newspaper at that time for me was something of an anomaly. I did not read it on a regular basis.) I was terrified at the thought. I had two small children, I was pathologically shy and I lived a substantial distance from the location of the class. I easily could have passed. But I did not. As a result I met my best friends in the world and satisfied a lifelong passion. Was it random? You could argue that there was intention and I put it out into the universe and the universe answered. But why did I happen to read that newspaper? That day?

You often hear, “Everything happens for a reason.” Or “It was supposed to happen.” Really? So here’s the thing. I do believe in intention. It does work. But which is more powerful, fate or happenstance? Is there such a thing as universal intention for us? Is there such a thing as fate? Would it benefit us to know? Interesting questions, yes? 

Monday, February 13, 2017


Marisa de los Santos, author of this month’s book selection is a favorite. I reviewed a book of hers in June of 2015 called, The Precious One. I go back to her novels again and again because of the excellent writing.

Falling Together is a novel about relationships in general and friendship in particular. Three college students, Cat, Pen and Will, form a bond of intense friendship. Due to circumstances, they separate geographically but not emotionally. A series of events bring them back in the sphere of each other’s lives in unexpected ways. The story is unique but beyond that, de los Santos has an uncanny and unflinchingly true eye for observation. While you don’t always like the characters and their reactions to situations and to one another, you appreciate the events as uncontrived and true to human nature.

Another facet this novel explores is how people change and grow over time. It shows how first impressions can be totally erroneous and actions misconstrued. People are rarely just one thing, evil, happy, asinine…whatever.  The evolution of learning about another human being can enrich us, be painful, illuminating and surprising. Good stuff.

Happy Valentine’s!

Wednesday, January 18, 2017


Once again, this holiday I was reminded of what is most important in my life. Relationships. Once again, I was reminded that all we have are moments. This moment. Right now. Always, right now. So we must be sure we are present, appreciating every one.

It can be as simple as holding a baby on your chest. Or holding someone’s hand as you look at the ocean. Or hugging your dog. Or sharing laughter over a silly game. Or eating biscuits with honey for breakfast two days in a row. Or more!

The bad stuff will come and go. Misunderstandings, hurt feelings, lost jobs, lost people. The good stuff may only come in moments. So grab them. Hold them tight. See the beauty around you. Savor joy when it comes.

My words for 2017:



Happiest of New Years and Many Wishes for a Wonderful 2017!

Thursday, January 12, 2017


During the holidays I started two terrific books. I have not finished either one due to the breakneck pace of the season. The most I could get through at night was a page or two before falling asleep. So, those two will have to wait until next month. Instead, I am reviewing a past read; indeed one of my favorites of all time: The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein.

This book was a revelation. It sat on my bookshelf, a gift from my brother, for a good year before I finally picked it up. I thought, from reading the book jacket, that I would probably like it but was in no hurry. How could a book about a dog be anything but fun, escapist fare? I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I have always believed animals to be somewhat mystical creatures. Dogs, in particular, evince a particular joy in life while giving unconditional love and an uncanny ability to heal. That healing can be physical, psychological and/or spiritual. Enzo, the dog in Racing gives a face to these beliefs. Humorous and profound, this novel is for everyone, animal lover or not. I loved this book.

Highly, highly recommend.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Star Stuff

Recently, I’ve been watching a program on TV called Star Talk, hosted by Neil deGrass Tyson. deGrasseTyson is an astrophysicist (say that three times in a row) who has become well-known because of his engaging, approachable personality and hands-on style of teaching difficult concepts. Topics range from Quantum Physics, Quantum Mechanics to Time Travel, Black Holes, Dark Matter, The Walking Dead and more. Yes, I said The Walking Dead.

The format of the show consists of Tyson doing interviews. Some are done via video conferencing and some in person with guests in the studio. The studio guests are normally a comedian and a professional in one of the fields mentioned above. They then proceed to discuss everything from philosophy to theoretical physics to string theory to pop culture. I love this show! It never fails to push me intellectually. I don’t pretend to fathom everything they discuss but I love trying to understand.

Once before, in April of 2015 I wrote a blog called Look Up about deGrasseTyson and his mentor, Carl Sagan. They both encouraged us to stretch our intellect and to never stop learning. When we think we know everything, we stop growing.

This time of year is the perfect time to remember this.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Sunday, December 18, 2016


This month’s book selection is Stephanie Meyer’s second adult fiction novel: The Chemist. I rarely buy hardbacks but I was curious to see how Meyer handles adult fiction. I was also interested to see her subject matter and  if her writing style had changed. I read all four of her hugely successful Twilight series books and enjoyed them. I thought she was still developing as a writer but that her storytelling ability was excellent. Her novels sparked a phenomenon, which is no small thing.

The main character of The Chemist is best described as a female Jason Bourne. The character has many names but the one most used is Alex. I’m giving very little away to say she is a highly-trained employee of a covert agency and is on the run for her life. You learn this information in the first few pages.

This is a hefty book at over five hundred pages and Meyer kept my attention for most of it. Very well-done characterizations make you feel you are meeting the people she has created. I have to say she excels, however, at her rendering of action sequences. They fairly thrum with excitement and heart-pounding situations. Our girl Alex can run with the best of them. A fun read.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Heart to Heart

So, the last few months have been intense with all the election drama. I have never seen such offensive divisiveness during an election in my lifetime. It has been disturbing on so many levels. Not only some of my friends, but also some of my family members have been on opposite sides of the great divide. It has caused such friction that at times my heart literally has felt broken.

I can’t remember a time when I have felt so passionately about issues. Because of this, the realization that people I care about felt completely the opposite was incomprehensible to me. I found that we could not even discuss the differences without getting angry. This in itself is disturbing. We have always been able to talk. It seems the whole country is having the same problem. No one is listening and everyone is angry.

So here’s the deal. The election is just now over but I came to this conclusion more than a week ago. I’m going to let it go. I’m not letting go of what I believe in. I will continue to fight against hate and injustice. But I am going to remember why I love my friends and my family. Because the truth is I love them no matter who they voted for. My love was not contingent upon them agreeing with everything I say. No matter how heinous I may have found the opposing candidate, no matter how shocking, they have the right to believe exactly what they choose.

It is my deepest wish that the country will do the same. That families, states, communities and our country will not be divided by ideology. We are America, these are the rights we fought and died for. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religion and equal rights for all. Freedom to be whomever you choose to be. United we stand. We are all in this together. And guess what. We already are great. 

Wednesday, November 9, 2016


I’m still leaning toward lighter fare these days. When I stop to read, I want to escape with a capital E. My first choice was Book 1 of the Remnant Chronicles by Mary E. Pearson. I think this would be classified as a YA Fantasy series. I learned about it from a blog post in Miss Snark’s First Victim. Love this blog. It’s for aspiring MG and YA writers and has fostered a great community.

Book 1 is well-written and is an adventure story with a runaway princess an assassin who is also a love interest (!) and an errant prince. It’s not as fluffy as I make it sound. There are enough daggers,death, secrets and mystery to satisfy most any reader. I will probably read Book 2 which is a good sign.

My next escape was in Jenny Colgan’s Little Beach Street Bakery. This was recommended to me as good, light, escapist literature and it did not disappoint. Colgan’s work is described as romantic comedy fiction although I believe she is dipping a toe into Sci-Fi in her next book. This definitely falls into the former category and does so very well. The characters are interesting and well-drawn and the setting on an island off the Cornish coast is lovely. Colgan has a funny, dry sense of humor which is refreshing. One problem is the occasional, random change of point of view. I’m not sure this is a problem in her later works since I have only read the one. I can’t be the first person to notice it. Still, this is not War and Peace and it’s not meant to be. I liked it. Great vacation read.

Thursday, October 20, 2016


I’ve written often in this blog about the great teachers, philosophers and spiritual leaders whose ideas I love to explore. Some of these ideas resonate with me on a profound level and some do not. Some leave me with just small chunks of lovely insight.

What is important is that you don’t have to study only the great intellectual masters to gain growth and wisdom and insight. I think I have always “known” this but feel it’s important to acknowledge it.  

I recently attended a school reunion and was reacquainted with people I had not spoken with in many years. What moved me so deeply was the discovery of something new in each one. Some classmates I probably had not ever had a conversation with, some I had a long-standing opinion of, some were close friends and remain close. To a person, I was illuminated, enlightened and so grateful for the opportunity to reconnect.

The whole experience was so intense I was overwhelmed with the good will, love and feeling of inclusiveness. Of shared history. History that joined and did not divide.

My take away is you learn from every single person that crossers your path. 

No judgement. Let the lessons come.

Falkland Island Penquins
Together and separate

Wednesday, October 12, 2016


This book was a revelation. The bookstores seem full-to-bursting with “Paris” titled books. My preconceived notion was that most were somewhat light and must sell quickly and well, judging by the profusion of them. It’s the “kitsch” of the moment. Kind of like beach reads. Not to judge, because all have their place. My taste just often leads elsewhere.

When I saw this title, The Light of Paris, I passed it over, in spite of it being by Eleanor Brown, the gifted writer of The Weird Sisters. That book had not been a particular favorite, but I had admired her unique storyline and writing style. A few weeks later, a friend recommended TLOP so I decided give it a try and grabbed a copy from the library rather than invest.

I love this book! I love being surprised. The storyline was not completely unique: a woman loses track of herself and struggles to find herself again. Anyway, someone very wise once said, and I paraphrase, there are no truly unique stories, just different characters and different authors. The difference here is, two women take the same journey more than seventy years apart with two different outcomes. I have read several books lately in which the narrative jumps back and forth through time. This is the first one that I feel does it successfully.

The descriptions of Paris are so full and rich you feel as if you are walking its streets, sitting in its cafes, drinking wine and watching its changing light over the rooftops. The Light of Paris is truly lovely and full of unexpected insight about the wisdom of being true to your calling.


Monday, September 26, 2016


Memory is an ephemeral thing. Recently I ran across a plain brown notebook. I had written across the front of it: Trip to Rome, March 2000. Seriously. Sixteen years ago. Of course I remember the trip. It was wonderful. Rome is one of my favorite cities in the world (not to name-drop, but it is). The first time I saw the Colosseum was through the smudged window of a bus many years before that 2000 trip. I put the notebook aside after glancing through it; I wanted to savor it later. I remembered the trip, the feelings, but not the details.

I tried to find that notebook to refer to while writing this blog. I couldn’t. It’s somewhere, and it will turn up, but what I did find were numerous other notebooks. Snippets of my life. Morning pages, poems, story ideas, other trips. Although many were not finished, were cast aside or interrupted, they each represent moments in time. My moments. Maybe when taken together they would represent a microcosm of who I am. I wonder if, a hundred years from now, if the notebooks survive, what some great-great-great would surmise about my life. Would it be of interest? Would these scribblings represent? Would they misunderstand? Understand?

What I know is, if we don’t write it down, and sometimes even if we do, so much is lost. There is a magic about life, about its colors, shapes, smells, sounds, emotions and experiences that defies words. Defies description. But when we read about it, sometimes, just sometimes, we live it again.

“The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”
                                         ― Eden Phillpotts, English author and playwright or
                                           -W.B. Yeats or 
                                           -Bertrand Russell

Sunday, September 11, 2016


Prep: A Novel by Curtis Sittenfeld is an examination of the rarified atmosphere of the ultra-exclusive, private prep-schools that funnel the children of the very rich or very connected into Ivy League schools. Lee Fiora, the female protagonist is an exception, a scholarship student.

Lee’s observations form the core of the novel. She is revolted by and fascinated by her fellow students in equal measure. It is painful to watch her struggle to fit in and her obsession with the school’s golden boy. Ault, the fictional prep school she applies for and attends turns her former at-home personality of being easy, relaxed and out-going into one of being withdrawn, shy and agonizingly uncomfortable. It’s as if she moves through the world without skin.

Sittenfeld’s coming of age story has been compared to Catcher in the Rye. You cringe at her inability to see outside herself. You want her to be older, wiser. You want to sympathize, yell at, shake and protect her simultaneously as she tries to navigate her life. You remember adolescence.

Goldberg Variations by Susan Isaacs centers on three cousins who travel to Santa Fe, New Mexico to meet with their estranged, super-wealthy grandmother at her invitation. The name comes from Bach’s famous Goldberg Variations. Inarguably one of the most famous pieces of music ever written, it contains music that moves from soft and moody to intense and lively and everything in between. 

The title refers to the three cousins and Gloria, the grandmother. Extremely different and yet somehow meshing. Gloria is an extremely unsympathetic character. A hard and bitter woman, she brings the three there, after ignoring them their entire lives, to pick a successor to manage her vast fortune. She is in for a shock.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Don't Worry

You would think I would learn from experience. But no, not so much. Maybe needing reminders is just the human condition. I think so.

So, I was watering my beloved plants. Love the plants, not the watering. I was a bit out of sorts because something I had wanted to do for pleasure (go to an afternoon movie) had been sidetracked by a serious of unforeseeable events. I wanted to at least accomplish watering the plants so I would feel the day had not been completely lost. Then I remembered something. I remembered another day, a kind of déjà vu thing, when I was also watering plants. I actually wrote about it in my blog almost exactly two years ago. On that afternoon, two years ago, I remember stopping and picking up a book of poems by Mary Oliver.

I wrote:

Instead of being in the moment like I’m always preaching and noticing their (the plant’s) beauty, I’m rushing through the task with a vengeance. What stopped me was this. As I was waiting for the trays to fill with water, I was reading a Mary Oliver poem. Her vivid imagery reminded me that life is a series of moments. Why living in the present moment is such a difficult task that needs constant reminding, I do not know. I do know it’s best to take care and not let those moments slip away. Enjoy them when you can. See them. Be there.”

So I walked over and picked up a book of poems by Mary Oliver called Felicity. A different one than before, actually. Immediately my mood changed. I was calm. I once again was reminded of the beauty around me. I didn’t worry about the past. I didn’t worry about the future. I didn’t worry about what I did or did not accomplish. I did not anguish over the meaning of life. For that moment, I was in the moment.  

Some people have the gift of seeing. And they share that gift with us. Mary Oliver is one of those magical people.

“Things take the time they take. Don’t Worry.”
-from a poem by Mary Oliver