A commonplace book for all the little and big mysteries I notice. And occasionally, poetry!
Sunday, June 28, 2026
Foxy Neighbors
Wednesday, June 24, 2026
Celebration!
Monday, June 22, 2026
On Target
I appreciate how something that could kill me can, in the right dose and delivery method, improve my healthspan. I appreciate the scientific method and the curiosity of humans who pursue questions and hypotheses that lead to such discoveries.
I appreciate my life.
Saturday, June 20, 2026
How I Read
I saw the image above on social media the other day, and it captured the essence of my reading style. I left a comment: "Yes! I think of reading as a kind of transubstantiation (if you're Catholic you'll grok the term). Something wonderfully mysterious happens in reading that changes me as a reader, and I don't completely have to understand or remember details for the experience to have a benefit."
I'm in the process of reading several novels, and as of the end of June I'll have read 28 books. My goal is 52, but I'll see how it goes.
The three fiction standouts so far are Loved and Missed, James, and Orbital.
I read all of Andrea Gibson's poetry, and love Lord of the Butterflies the most.
My inner nerd thoroughly devoured The Devil's Teeth: a True Story of Obsession and Survival Among America's Great White Sharks. No open water swimming in the Pacific Ocean for me!
And I read a book for a reading club that really aligned with an inner shift, and helped me to clarify goals. That book is Life in Five Senses: How Exploring the Senses Got Me Out of My Head and Into the World. With the ICE invasions and murders in Minnesota in January, I realized that my well-being relies on getting off social media and news sites. I became so aware that I don't want to be on my death bed regretting that I had not made more art. The book (which I listened to) alerted me to many small practices I can employ to actually live my life. Not long after this shift and reading the book, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Ok, universe, my dear AmoreVita, message received and action engaged.
Stage Two
On Monday I begin radiation, which I'm referring to as stage two. My good fortune is that the surgery got all the tumor, which was very, very small, with no lymph node involvement. Because it was so small and localized, I qualify for partial breast radiation of only five sessions every other day. Again, a case for early detection when there is a family history and/or dense breast tissue. The MRI caught the cancer, not the mammogram. I expect there will be an aftereffect of fatigue once it's done. But only five sessions!
Once I'm done with that on July 1, I'll begin taking the aromatase inhibitors, a medication that targets this cancer if it recurs in another part of my body. I'm to take this for five years. The only concern is that it can cause severe joint pain, brain fog, and osteoporosis. Having worked very hard to lose weight and become fit and enjoying the absence of joint pain as a result, I hope this isn't a side effect I have to deal with. If I can't tolerate the med I was prescribed, there are other ones, though they all have similar beastly side effects. And perhaps I'll be lucky again and not experience any. (The osteoporosis is a concern, since my mother had it severely and my Dexa scan last year showed early bone thinning.)
One step at a time.
Monday, June 15, 2026
A Garden Story
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
Saturday, May 30, 2026
My Love List
My Love List – from MindfulOne
- The several dozen different birds that sing me awake each morning. Even the damn crows, who start a ruckus at 5 a.m. Oh, and the owls I hear at night.
- Puns! I love sneaking a pun into conversation, the reactions I get. I love reading puns aloud, and I love that some of them make me laugh hysterically (especially “naughty” ones).
- Ribeye steak cooked medium is deeply savory and delightful. My husband cooks them perfectly.
- The redwood forest, especially the old growth ones, where I can feel the centuries in the atmosphere as I hike through.
- Taking walks to the local turtle pond; sometimes I see turtles, or ducks, and always the overgrown koi. Several times I’ve seen a wild turkey – one even flew up into a tree.
- Strong black coffee in the morning; black tea with honey in the afternoon.
- How I feel after I’ve done a strong cardio session on the elliptical or a hearty walk – strong, clear, vibrant, connected intimately with life.
- Ambient, instrumental, meditative music; folk music; eclectic alternative; trip-hop music; so many kinds of music that I listen to daily that helps me create and work.
- Losing myself in hours of flow when I paint, draw, collage, and write.
- I love my husband, who is my best friend and life’s gift to me.
- I love my child, whose existence has also taught me the importance of mothering myself, and who is also life’s gift to me.
- Chocolate, mostly dark.
- Baskin Robbins Love Potion #31 ice cream: a seasonal white chocolate and raspberry ice cream infused with raspberry swirls, chocolate chips, and raspberry filled hearts. I love especially that my local store orders enough to serve beyond February, into the end of April.
- Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey Ice cream.
- Camping, seeing national parks, and big campfires that last late.
- Reading books of all kinds, ones that teach me and ones that entertain.
- I love babies; they are so fresh and innocent, having just emerged into the world; they evoke a fierce energy in me to protect and cherish, and it feels like connection with something holy.
- Sunny days and clear skies with enough cool to maybe need a sweater.
- Rainy days that wash the streets clean and feel cozy.
- Seasons: I grew up with experiencing four seasons and now experience roughly two where I live now.
- Dancing, especially something called Ecstatic Dance, which is a free-form movement practice in a safe space with no alcohol, no shoes, no talking on the dance floor, in order to experience the joy of being.
- Afternoon naps.
- Cats and rabbits (I’ve had both as pets); really any animal that is friend-shaped.
- Deep conversation over coffee with friends.
- Looking for and finding beauty.
Monday, May 11, 2026
Something Speaks to Me
For the first time since before I surgery I did squares today. The context is yesterday I felt good enough since surgery to move around and do things, tasks and fun things. But it cost me energy. And this morning I feel reduced, unsteady, slightly dizzy, raw. I did squares as I listened to music and I swear they leaped out and grouped themselves. They spoke to me. This happens. I'm not sure what the message is, but I received it. Sometimes a collage comes together that, when I look at it later, astonishes me. Because connections are there, ones I saw and made, and others I didn't realize even as I glued them down. As I finished the last square, I began to cry. Who knows why. Just grief. Sweetness, and grief.
Saturday, May 09, 2026
Noticing
I wrote that last sentence and ran out of steam. Noticing "I" am inside, waving my hand through the ether to grab onto another word only to find emptiness. And feeling flat about that. A state of being powered on but in standby mode.
In this physically diminished state what I've noticed over the past week is the daylong concert of birdsong. I'm unable to pair what I hear with the bird type, but there are at least a a dozen types of songbird singing their hearts out. And of course the wild turkeys and crows, oh my god the CROWS. Those assholes like to get started loudly around 5 a.m. and squawk for at least 90 minutes. At night I hear screeches of Barn Owls, eerie punctuations in the dark. Sometimes I hear Great Horned Owls giving the classic hoot-hooooot.
When I sit really still, I feel my blood pulsing rhythmically through my body, and I notice the force is enough to shake my head minutely, a small vibration.
Friday, March 20, 2026
Sacraments of the Morning
Sacraments of the Morning
Isn’t it enough
to feel a chill as you rise from a warm
bed, stumble to the bath and with
nimble fingers attend to your body’s
needs, button your shirt, to balance
as you put pants on one leg at a time?
Isn’t it enough
to hear the morning news, the coffee
maker gurgling as you eat your
Wheaties with skim milk, to listen in
the comfort and illuminated safety of
your kitchen as rain rattles the roof?
Isn’t it enough
to inhale the earth’s perfume of wet
dirt, worms, roses and jasmine blooms,
to smell even the faint fumes of the
world’s morning commute as you join
with humanity for the day’s business?
Isn’t it enough
to taste the fresh tender day and
savor the strong bitter brew from
your steaming paper chalice as
you await the train under the shelterwith others huddled like pigeons?
Isn’t it enough
to observe the blur of cinderblock
fortresses adorned with graffiti, the
lonely artifacts of life strewn across
anonymous backyards, to notice the
window cat watching the morning?-- Kathryn Harper
“Cold Rain, Warm Colours” by Fred Rune Rahm, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
Friday, March 13, 2026
Say Good Morning
Wednesday, March 11, 2026
The Crows Wait Patiently
Two crows on a bare branch,
one grooming the other
as the nigh spring sun sets;
a breeze makes shadows danceover the empty bowl.-Kathryn Harper
Tuesday, March 10, 2026
Such a Fun Bun
Friday, February 27, 2026
May As Well Show
Thursday, February 26, 2026
Tuesday, February 24, 2026
Every Day Like a Vitamin
I'm 62. My child is 18 and will head off to college this fall. I did the heavy lifting of mothering for 18 years, and while I will always be part of my child's life, they will launch into their own. I have more time, energy, and mental capacity free to use in different ways. Working as a therapist is one project, and I love doing the work. I missed it so much before returning in 2021.
Another project of mine has been to renovate my life in such a way that I become physically healthier and more fit. Losing weight and regular intense exercise has improved my life so much, particularly my mental health. And goodness knows with the state of U.S. politics, I need to take care of this.
Lately, though, I've noticed I am prioritizing creating daily. It brings such joy and equanimity. It feels as important as eating and sleeping. It puts me in a flow state that enables me to be a decent human being and do good things in the world. But most of all, as I'm getting older, I'm acutely aware that my remaining time is finite and precious. I am going to die. Every day I wake up and put that awareness front and center in my attention, because I want to spend some time every day doing this activity that makes my life rich. When I'm on my deathbed, I want to have no regrets. I want the satisfaction of knowing that I gave myself to life and really engaged.
So every day since January I've been collaging (posted here). And lately I've been making small abstract paintings with watercolor, and converting other painted paper into notecards. It makes me grateful to be alive. And I am grateful to myself that I've made this practice a daily priority.
Monday, February 23, 2026
Noticing
Naturally I whipped out my cell phone to take some photos. I like this one best (despite the shadow of my finger in the lower corner), because the reflective iridescence is beautiful. I see the kitchen windowpane at the top, and other indiscernible objects from the counter. It lasted several minutes; then a subtle shift in the air breached the bubble and *pop*, it was gone.
I would categorize this as a glimmer -- a moment of fascination and joy.




































