Yesterday the ladybug made its way downstairs. It was flitting about the light by my side of the sofa. The extra movement like a conversation. I wished I could decipher what it was trying to say to me, but I couldn’t read the pattern. These past months I’ve grown out of practice in the fine… Continue reading A bug’s life
Tag: writing
The language of signs
Do you believe in signs? I do. Although historically I believed in them as a way to confirm what I thought I should do, as in, “please, Universe, show me a sign if I should do X.” It was another form of seeking external validation and approval. Those signs never came. Have you heard the… Continue reading The language of signs
On embracing autumn’s shadow
I wore gloves for the first time this weekend and again today on an outing. The chill has arrived. As I marvel at the beautiful colours of autumn, I’m bending more to see them littering my lawn rather than on the branches in my horizon. The energy is shifting in our environment and I’m not… Continue reading On embracing autumn’s shadow
Home is where the art is
There are few times that I would consider “home” to be the place I’ve wanted to be. I consider Hamilton to be my hometown. While I was born in Windsor, my family moved to the Hammer (where most of my maternal extended family lived) when I was eight and having spent the majority of my formative years there, Hamilton is home. And yet I didn’t want to be there.
Swimming lessons
This week I’m wrapping up work at my corporate communications job to embark on a career shift. I feel excited and expectant about my soon-to-be free agency. I have ideas and words floating around in my brain. Writing that I want to do and yoga to teach. Little worry (for now) about how I’ll do… Continue reading Swimming lessons