I think that deep down in our souls, all of us are probably aware that some kind of mystical evolution is our true task here. But, in my mind, we don’t talk about the mystical experiences we have enough. I suppose we feel it’s a little too “woo-woo.” It definitely grates against a rationalist view… Continue reading something more
Tag: Grief
time goes by
This picture was taken the day my mom turned 75. That was seven and a half years ago now. Four years ago this afternoon, we sat together - my mom and dad and sister and I - in a puke-coloured room in the cancer centre as the doctor delivered the news that her cancer had… Continue reading time goes by
on longing
A couple of weeks ago, Richard Gere spent a day just up the street from my City Hall office filming scenes for his new movie called ‘Longing.” It’s an English remake of a critically-acclaimed Israeli film that premiered at the Venice Film Festival in 2017. In it, Gere plays an aging bachelor who discovers that… Continue reading on longing
thanksgiving
It’s overcast at the cottage this morning. It was a spur of the moment decision to come up here late yesterday. One minute we were sitting on the bed folding laundry talking about this year’s brilliant fall colours. Twenty minutes later we were on the road. The last thing I threw in my bag on… Continue reading thanksgiving
the world still to come
TRIGGER WARNING: Overdose, Death A friend of my son’s passed away unexpectedly on the weekend from a drug overdose. The cause of his accidental death is not being said in hushed tones, the way it once would have been. It was shared openly today in his obituary. He was 22. He’d visited our house a… Continue reading the world still to come
i’m still here
She kneels down next to me and presses her palm to the side of my face. The softness of her. Her hands always so warm. She leans close, pressing her forehead to my cheek. And we stay that way for a minute or two. I’m still here, she says. All you have to do is… Continue reading i’m still here
the blue house
A poem I haven’t thought of in some time has been hanging around me the past few days. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s a message. It turned up for me again this week as I was doing some research for a book idea. The poem is called The Blue House (by Tomas Transtromer). In… Continue reading the blue house
lessons from a gravedigger
I stood at the upstairs bedroom window for a few minutes this morning, watching as a man chipped away at the cold, hard ground, squaring up the sides of a new grave in the cemetery that butts up against our backyard fence. People sometimes tell me they think it would be weird to live in… Continue reading lessons from a gravedigger
house of cards
It was a house of cards. Everyone was busy playing their hand. We took our own deck, a bottle of wine and a corner table. At the end of that night, the bottle was empty. Everyone was gone. And there on our table was this beautiful house of cards, stories, hopes and secrets. Something we… Continue reading house of cards
love, in the end
He kissed me the first time one night in front of the Francis Furniture store. The moon was high and, for the fifth or sixth night in a row, he ignored his aunt’s curfew and her pleas not to hang out with “that girl”. It was a bit of a hurried, kind of awkward affair… Continue reading love, in the end
MeaningMaker 