admiring their greenness.

i have two succulents 

living with me

on 2701 grand avenue south.

one is tall and sure and stretching.

the other is full and ample and branching.

these past few weeks, 

as the temperatures

bite

and mornings mean 

leaving the comfy cave 

of rest that’s kindly held me 

during the blackness of night,

to enter the air of chill 

that hovers and hangs in my room.

and this morning, 

as my head peaks out

to test the gelid temps

i wondered about my resident succulents.

outside icicles cling to

buildings, garages,

rubbish bins, tree branches.

coldness envelops us

as it often does this time of year.

and this morning, 

I worry for my 2 resident succulents.

when the sun comes out

{only ever so rarely}

i rush them to that sun soaked spot.

my resident succulents

speak their appreciation because they

continue to grow.

Green.

despite the cold.

taller & wider they reach.

when the shine comes out

i too rush to rearrange myself accordingly.

i also crave the sun’s warm attention.

when you are meant for warmth

how can you grow in the depths of winter?

i appreciate their Greenness.

maybe, I am even a bit envious of it.

no color is like Green. None.

Green is the perfect color to allow 

absorbing & defining 

of oneself.

it’s gentle yet firm.

it’s inviting yet knowing.

it’s comforting and never overwhelming.

it not afraid to adjust according to seasons

all the while always remaining itself.

this morning i wonder 

for my 2 green resident succulents.

how can you grow, keep growing, keep reaching

when the climate engulfs, inhaling the life

when the air is less than ideal

when the surroundings confuse your core

when what’s home becomes foreign

when you can hardly breathe

how can you?

grow.

today i brought them to the warmest

most comfortable part of 2701 grand avenue south.

to the center of all things.

the kitchen table.

today they will sit

side by side.

in the shine of the sun.

with their green leafs stretching.

touching.

despite the imperfect space,

the confusion, the thin and fragile air,

even if gasping for air is the best

you can do

know this.

there is more in you

than you think.

and despite the enveloping circumstances

your green will still shine.

your roots will still dig.

and that small patch of sun 

will touch something 

deep inside

& you will be reminded that

all will indeed be well.

it will.

growing.

reaching.

stretching.

even in the harshness of circumstances

cold & winter.

Life is here.

- n.

somedays i miss it.

somedays i do.
other days i don't.

but today i do.

- n.

sandy here she comes

today has been full of
early morning hours.

stacks of paper.
computer screens.
coffee mugs.
face-to-face encounters.
words, words & then more
words.

dinner and cauliflower.
designs and dreams.
hopes and goals.
listening and direction.

excitement
anticipation.
typing keys.
roommate energy
and roommate jokes.

today life, it was busy today.

coffers still coffeed at 
their favorite local spots.
traffic existed in only its 
predictably jerky inconsistency 
during the usual times of day. 

yellow buses picked up loads of backpacks 
with kids attached. 

and just like that, 
without hardly noticing...
today, my world went on.

but meanwhile elsewhere 
just due miles East, the world as they know it 
stopped.
No literally.
Stopped.

No subway lines.
No taxis. 
No buses.
No traffic lights.

No Wall Street.
No Stock Exchange.
Nothing.
just people...
being told to stay indoors. 
And wait.

wait for the rain
for the damage
for the unknown.

oh deary what's your name?
did they say Sandy?
oh sandy sandy
so strong and so mighty.
my heart goes out to
those in your
path.

- n.

tonight i went to service

tonight i went to service
for one purpose
and one purpose only.
to hear
to listen
to feel
the drums.

there's something particularly perfect
about music,
about drums.
the beat
the pulse
the rhythm.

it gets in you, through you
reverberating across within without
your entire being.

and if you can, just for a moment
zoom in on it, the drums.
only it.
the beat
the pulse
the rhythm.

in that moment
when you meet the drum
you might notice
that it guides the entire
collection of notes.

can you? do you?

it does. because
it holds
it brings
it defines.

it's particularly extraordinary really.
those drums.

and in that moment
between only you & the drum
if you listen closely
you will
hear
listen
feel

your heart.
in there.
in you.
contentedly beating inside.
reverberating amongst bones & echoing
down veins
in the only home it's ever known.

your heart.
it's content to be alive
and do all it has ever done and ever
hopes to do:

to beat out the rhythm
of your life.

there's something particularly perfect
about the drums.
to remind us
how to
hear
listen
feel

that one thing.
that one thing
that's always been inside.

- n.

to my biggest fan.

as i sat down to
write in his card this morning
i realized
he really is quite good at
so many things.


like running tons of miles
over his lunch hour.
and biking all day
or at least 50 miles.


then there's motorcycles & sailboats.
his information about any and all
weather situations.
things like
cutting down trees & getting lost
in Costco aisles.
like when to follow maps & when
to find your own way. 


of course things like
seeing & listening.
investing wisely.
teaching truth.
making friends 
wherever he goes.
enjoying his every circumstance.

see?
so many things.


but there's one thing he's
really good at.
and what's funny is
he underwent absolutely zero training
for this endeavor.


and he actually seems to
be better at this one
than all the rest.


well, maybe i'm just biased.
(could be).


so Dad.
thanks for being the one
i call
dad.


want to know something?
i didn't choose you.
and quite honestly you didn't
exactly choose me either.


but Dad, here's the thing.
you've chosen me
each and everyday 
of my life.


and i know
beyond a shadow of a doubt
that you'll choose me
again tomorrow & the next day
and for as many days
as we have to come... 


and that.
that has made 
all the difference.


to my biggest fan.
(ps i'm yours too).


happy father's day.


xo,


n.

when the words go out

it's been a long while
since i've headed
to the library
with such intensity
and purpose.


when all around me
there are words
words words


and i discover that
i have nothing left to give 
you
you
or you.
or actually you either.
or myself.


it's then that i need to
jump in.
off deep.
swirl and twirl and turn and roll.
flip and glance, skim and read
again&again&again.


when all the words go out of me.
there is little to do except keep the 
fear away.
away.
away.


and search for connection.


yes.
to be with what is.


roaming the aisles
of books
like an impulsive buyer, while
making no commitments that
cannot be kept.

up and down each aisle i go.
car repairs to travel.
chinese to teen fiction. 
american history & the ancient wisdoms.


poets and their poems.
design and redecorating. 
a children's book to teach what 
really needs 
to be known.

an author, just grab all 4 of her books 
in order to hear how her voice 
might change and grow.

i just need them near.
these words that are not my own.
from room to room
i carry them.
sit them next to me while i work,
while i eat
while i call through the phone. 


friends i'll never know.
but their words they left behind.
they are not mine.
they're theirs.
except.
if the time is right
our words might grow together.

deep roots.
yet, new branches reaching
further than
either them or i can begin to
imagine.


and here they sit.
safe with me.
and me with them.
the words.
the words of another.
the words of others.

and so my mind can be calm.
can settle and rest.
just be.
just be.


my words will come again.
not today,
maybe not tomorrow.
but they'll be back.
because they never left really.
they were just resting.


resting in the work of another.


but for tonight.
i'll just flip and turn.
peak and skim.
over&over&over again.
slower this time then skip
to the next.


yes.
to be with what is.


and that's what to do
when the words go out of you.




- n.

mandolin lessons

new experiences.

there's something intriguing about

them -- these new experiences.

they have a funny way of

making us what we are.

new experiences...

just because.

just because you saw it

once.

just because you thought you'd

never.

just because you know he'll love

My cousin playing his new mandolin. He's just a wee bit excited!

it.

just because you were

curious.

just because.

it's always inspiring to

see people choosing, seeking out, walking to

these,

sometimes scary

sometimes intimidating

sometimes crazy

experiences.

like, 

deciding it's time to get a 

motocycle license.

like,

moving your entire family

to Texas

for a few months.

or like asking your parents to

buy you a mandolin

because you just wanted to learn

to play.

new experiences.

they have a funny way

of often

making us what we are.

cheers,

natalie

enjoying the impractical.

cheers to summer.


did you feel it today?
were you in it?
were you all about it?
were you absorbed?


on days like these my 
{sometimes too serious}
soul
needs to be reminded
to do things.
just to do them.


somedays my
{often too serious}
soul
needs to be reminded
to be a bit less practical
and just
enjoy.


lucky for me.
i have friends who help
my soul
remember
to
play.


and enjoy
the impractical.


so instead of going out
to get some practical
food item like breakfast, 
lunch or dinner.
she & i went to get
(of all impractical things)
a sweet.


at this place...

yum indeed!

while i've had a few treats

from this fabulous

establishment over the years,

i'd never before set foot in

their cafe.

and boy oh boy have i been

missing out.

so

one fork-full at at time,

as summer surrounded us

this

{sometimes a little too serious}

soul

was gently reminded to

forget about all the things

she wasn't doing 

and instead

kick her feet up,

grab a fork

and just enjoy.

cheers.

to sweets.

to my friends who teach me.

to enjoying the impractical.

oh and 
dear summer... 
cheers to you.


- n.