Showing posts with label glimmers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label glimmers. Show all posts

Sunday, June 28, 2026

Foxy Neighbors

Okay, terrible picture because I was so far away. But this morning around 11 a.m. I look up from my desk and who do I see but one of the kits! I observed her avidly watching the birds on the lawn searching for bugs. (Birds are aware though, not likely in danger.) 

Every single night this week they have rambunctiously chased around the yard. All night. No complaints here, but it is vexing because I can hardly see them!

My neighbor sent this photo from his side of the fence. Adorable. Cuddled for a nap. 



Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Celebration!

On this, my 63rd birthday, nature's gift to me is the delight of three gray foxes in my back yard. We noticed one fox June 4, and my husband saw two last week. This morning all three were scampering around the yard. They are moving between my neighbor's yard (where I think they have a den) and ours. This photo is not high quality; they move so fast. I think it's a mom and kits. 

As best as I can tell, this is the Townsend's Gray Fox, a subspecies of gray fox that lives in northern California and Oregon. We live close to the foothills of Santa Cruz mountains. The hills a mile away have coyotes, deer, turkeys, rattlesnakes, and mountain lions (rare but there). Mountain lions and coyotes prey on the fox, so it makes sense they are denning farther away. We have rats (that like to eat the fruit from trees), so I don't mind having the foxes around. It has never happened in all the years I've lived in this house, and it feels incredibly precious to witness this. 

This morning I have a doctor appointment, and this afternoon I have a radiation treatment. Welcome to the sixties! (Not really. I've noticed an upward trend in medical visits over the past five years or so.) People ask if I'm doing something special. Nope! I don't need to. As long as it's a good day, with moments of joy and savoring, it's special enough. 

I received two birthday cards (from husband and son) that were perfectly chosen, as well as some gifts. One of the gifts being an array of circle punches ranging in diameter from 3 inches to .3 inch. I look forward to cutting and playing with circles and making collages. I will encircle the world!
The other gift is a new fitness band of a different brand (Garmin), since the Fitbit I was using kept flaking out. And we all know the unmeasured life is not worth living! (Joke!) It's been a useful tool in becoming more healthy and maintaining. Some of us just do better when we keep track of ourselves.

I'm thinking this evening I'll have a backyard fire in the fire pit. I love a good campfire. It's Midsummer! I'm celebrating the light and life.

Monday, June 22, 2026

On Target

Today I received my first targeted radiation treatment. Because the cancer was caught so early and was so small, I'm eligible for partial breast radiation rather than whole breast. I have a total of five sessions, another benefit of early detection. The process took ten minutes, and I felt nothing but appreciation. 

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 read a lot. My mind requires it, just as much as my body needs to breathe, and I need sleep, and to eat. 

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

I'm almost seven weeks out from the lumpectomy and bilateral reduction. I'm learning about the complexity of healing involved. I've had a "granulating wound healing by secondary intention," which is an open wound where the sutures didn't quite heal after surgery, and it needs to heal from the inside out. My breasts are also re-vascularizing, which takes time. The incisions are healing very well (except that one spot), and my body feels more like me. I still have to pace my activity. If I do a lot one day, the next day requires a slower pace. No hikes for me yet!

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

I wrote this for a snail mail swap project with a theme of "writing about your garden." The photos were unwieldy for the email, so I've posted the letter here. Please note, if you want to see a bigger photo just click on it in the blog post. Also, I am in garden zone 9b (San Jose), meaning it rarely falls below freezing and provides a long growing season. It falls in the Heat Zones 7 or 8 (about 60 to 120 days of extreme heat per year). Because USDA zones do not account for coastal fog or ocean breezes, the specific UC Master Gardeners of Santa Clara County highly recommend checking the Sunset Climate Zones. San Jose is primarily Zone 14 or 15 (which accounts for the mild Mediterranean climate with marine air).

Dear PK and RR,

I joined this swap after reading the note of encouragement to do so, when it was made clear that having a Better Homes and Gardens quality garden was not required. 

I am, despite many years of aspiration, not a gardener. I'm the daughter of master gardeners who has made many attempts but lack the discipline to persist. At least when it comes to gardening. Below is a recent photo of my backyard. Typically in the summer drought it's brown (we don't water the grass, to conserve), and it grows hugely during rainy season. I mowed it once a few months ago after it was 3 feet tall, and drat, it grew again! A bout of illness prevented me from mowing again. Here is what it looked like until last weekend. We had several volunteer trees that had grown by the orange tree, and weeds taller than my husband on the side yard. (My husband has for years taken care of the front yard in an effort to not be a blight on the neighborhood, but he has no love for gardening either.)
It made a wonderful little meadow for many birds and lizards, but the grass that grows produces seeds with needle-tip points that catch on clothes. Ouch! Our visitors include raccoons, opossums, rats, squirrels, and neighborhood cats. Birds in my yard include Mourning Dove, Western Screech Owl, Great Horned Owl, Anna's Hummingbird, American Crow, Northern Mockingbird, Cedar Waxwing, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Bewick's Wren, Dark-eyed Junco, California Towhee, House Sparrow, House Finch, and Brown-headed Cowbird. 

However, on June 4 (my son's high school graduation day), we had an auspicious visitor using our yard as a day spa -- a California gray fox! We live near the foothills of the Santa Cruz mountains and wildlife is only about 1 mile away. In all 16 years of living in this house, this is the first time a fox visited. 
He or she lounged in the yard about an hour. I've heard it said the foxes are dog hardware that runs on cat software. I hadn't known until that day that they (gray foxes) can climb trees and fences, as their wrists rotate!

Anyhow, I finally broke down and hired someone to come out and clean up the yard, and I will have him come routinely from now on to mow and blow. Here's what it looks like now and what was dragged to the street. And hope rises eternally in me. I can feel my aspirational gardener thinking, "Now that we've hired someone do maintain it and to help with special projects like mulching, trimming, and managing the sprinkler system, I might tend to it more..."
Even though I'm a crap gardener, I do appreciate flowers. Below are some photos I took of flowers in my parents' garden in past years. They are no longer alive, and I like to think their energy is now flowing into all growing things. 










My parents had many decorative signs in their garden. One was a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson from the poem Hamatreya, "The earth laughs in flowers." The other sign was a stanza from a poem by Dorothy Frances Gurney: 
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.
Wishing you a vibrant Litha and a joyous summer season!

Warmly,
MindfulOne/Kathryn

Saturday, May 30, 2026

My Love List

 
I recently participated in a swap where the project was to write a highly descriptive list of things I love. I received a beautifully poetic one from my partner in China. I sent mine to my assigned recipient in Canada. I figured it would be nice to share it here. 

My Love List – from MindfulOne

  1. 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.
  2. 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).
  3. Ribeye steak cooked medium is deeply savory and delightful. My husband cooks them perfectly.
  4. The redwood forest, especially the old growth ones, where I can feel the centuries in the atmosphere as I hike through.
  5. 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.
  6. Strong black coffee in the morning; black tea with honey in the afternoon.
  7. 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.
  8. 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.
  9. Losing myself in hours of flow when I paint, draw, collage, and write.
  10. I love my husband, who is my best friend and life’s gift to me.
  11. I love my child, whose existence has also taught me the importance of mothering myself, and who is also life’s gift to me.
  12. Chocolate, mostly dark.
  13. 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.
  14. Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey Ice cream.
  15. Camping, seeing national parks, and big campfires that last late.
  16. Reading books of all kinds, ones that teach me and ones that entertain.
  17. 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.
  18. Sunny days and clear skies with enough cool to maybe need a sweater.
  19. Rainy days that wash the streets clean and feel cozy.
  20. Seasons: I grew up with experiencing four seasons and now experience roughly two where I live now.
  21. 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.
  22. Afternoon naps.
  23. Cats and rabbits (I’ve had both as pets); really any animal that is friend-shaped.
  24. Deep conversation over coffee with friends.
  25. 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. 

Whoo boy. Today I get to see the plastic surgeon and they take off the dressings to examine healing. I'm not ready (but am ready for the drains to come out and shower!).

My son gave me the sweetest mother's day card yesterday. Love love love.

Saturday, May 09, 2026

Noticing

Day 5 after surgery feels pretty much like day 1. It's untethered to tasks beyond the bed and bathroom. 

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. 

My heart says hi. hi. hi. hi. hi.

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 shelter 
with 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

What do you do 
when you head into the morning 
to pick dandelion leaves for the rabbit, 
and you meet a
pea-sized spot of joy on a plant?

-Kathryn Harper

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 dance

over the empty bowl.

-Kathryn Harper

Tuesday, March 10, 2026

Such a Fun Bun

 
I spent this afternoon painting this lil guy in my art journal. I'm in an art/craft/snail mail swap group, and one of the swaps is to paint a whimsical bunny following this tutorial from Painted Willow art. I had a lot of fun playing with it. Once I apply wax seal to protect the paint, I'll cut the paper and mail it as a 4x6 inch postcard. Everyone in the swap is doing the same project, but of course each one will be unique. I'm looking forward to sending this bit of happiness along. 

Friday, February 27, 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

I was cleaning the sink the other evening, and when I pulled the stopper out of the soapy water, this large bubble was attached.

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. 

Monday, February 16, 2026

Appreciating Glimmers

I've been known to pack away my favorite Ben & Jerry's flavor, Chunky Monkey, every once in awhile. I can pretty much get that any time. However, every year in February I await the return of one of my favorite treats, the Baskin Robbins flavor of the month: Love Potion #31. It's a decadent white chocolate and raspberry ice cream, infused with raspberry swirl, chocolate chips, and little chocolate hearts filled with raspberry. I try to enjoy is several times throughout the month. This is a small joy, a glimmer, that I appreciate returning every year.