Sometimes we fall off an edge

Looking down at Medicine Beach on Pender Island

Hey friends, for those of you who keep track of these things, I missed posting the other Monday for the first time in two years. It warms my heart when readers tell me they look forward to reading some peculiar aspect of sparkle I’ve been exploring, and I greatly appreciate those of you who email or phone or who I see in the grocery store, giving me such warm feedback. My apologies for the temporary sparkle-shortage.

At the moment, I’m in a lot of pain, a long-standing discussion between my body and me. Personally, I find it hard to be much but snappy when I feel miserable. However, I have a couple of ideas I’ve been noodling with, so I will resume the usual magicmondays as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I’ll turn again to gratitude.

• As of this week, all the ice has melted from my driveway. I can walk in and out without windmilling frantically or sidestepping on the bigleaf geraniums that border the gravel.

  

  Snow was okay, however the driveway turned to ice

• On Valentine’s Day, I was staying with a friend in Victoria while I went to a couple of appointments in the city. My daughter, who’s known this pal since she was a kid, texted me that she was sending money so that the two of us could go out for a nice “Galentine’s lunch.” How sweet is that? The phrase was new to me. If you think this accurately dates me as being from the Jurassic Age, bing, you are correct.

• I continue to make progress on the Jorrie prequel, though I will admit, not in the last week. This is the novel I resumed work on when a friend came to Pender for a writing retreat at my cottage just before Christmas. She and I have been workshopping together for at least twenty-five years.

• Friendship is a very strong magic. So is family, the pleasure I receive from looking at candle flames or seeing a piece of art that takes me somewhere else. Or courtesy from a stranger—and here I’m thinking about my Victoria trip when my friend wanted to check out a consignment store her son liked. We were walking toward the mall entrance in James Bay when a trim-looking man, a decade younger than my friend and I, brushed by us and went ahead. His body language said he was in a hurry and important. However, as he went into the mall, he smacked the automatic door opener with his hand so by the time we reached the entrance, the door had opened for us. His unexpected kindness was so at odds with not even smiling that we laughed.

Sometimes we fall off the edge of what we demand of ourselves. It’s an interesting lesson in humility and learning to be gentle.

Are you being gentle with yourself this week? I’d love to hear.