Mindfulness for those who would rather not
Beginning
Disjointed, draft, rambling thoughts. I’ll pull this together tomorrow, on the solstice. We mark time in our lives by events, a check and balance of how we should feel on a given day, at a given point. Christmas and other holidays, anniversaries, birthdays. These things hold some kind of sway over us, even if it’s…
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Hamstrung
Disjointed, because that’s how I roll. I write these things knowing that people will turn away, but in the hope that some might not. I’ve sat in front of my computer a lot lately. This morning for ten minutes, and then another five, and later on another five. I’ve picked up my phone and opened…
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Routines
Two months. You’d be surprised how much change you can pack into two months. I’ve been fairly quiet on the blogging front since we left Canmore, but actually because of a glut of new material rather than a lack thereof. It’s challenging to distill everything that has happened or that I’ve learned, so I’ve decided…
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In Reach
From Dyckknows.com, 2014: The sound of the train permeates most of this valley. Sometimes the air is so hollow you would think you were standing right next to the tracks. Other times its the faint grind of steel on steel that etches it’s way up the mountainside. Over the years your awareness of it begins…
Read MoreGarbage
This is immensely disjointed, but that’s kind of how my thought processes are these days. “Ah, there you are. I thought you might have left, but I knew deep down you hadn’t.” The dogs sleeping in the darkened corners of the trailer, and something unseen stirring in the shadows under the door. “I knew you…
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In the Current
Recycled from Dyckknows.com. In my early twenties I drove alone along the road to Elmira often. I was a fly fisherman then, and even beyond that I was a kid so entirely lost in the greatness of life that I couldn’t see straight. Without warning I would be caught with a sense of incomprehensible joy…
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The Close and Distant Valleys
Billy on the rear gate of the pickup truck with his ankles crossed above his boots and the cuffs of his jeans wet from walking through the new snow woods and his chainsaw resting on the floor of the forest, his elbows then resting on his knees and his chin then resting on the heels…
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A Much Softer Light
Billy woke in the morning and knelt on the cold floor and scratched the skin through the thick fur of the mane of the sitting dog. He looked out the window to the thin crest of light over the shoulder of the mountain, starting orange and rose and fading upward into the dark firmament of…
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