One beautiful Valentine’s Day a few years back, I was out and about in our neighbourhood walking to a wonderful nearby neighbourhood pâtisserie. I was on my way to pick up a few heart-shaped cookies for my sweet man. It felt like spring—the sky was a clear azure blue, the sun gently warmed my face, birds chirped away in the trees and my heart sang right along with them, overflowing with affection for my sweetie. I felt expansive, head-over-heels in love with my man; indeed, in love with all of life itself.
“If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together… there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart… I’ll always be with you.”
~ Winnie the Pooh
This may sound strange to some, but I love winter. I love the cold; I love the dark evenings; I love snow and winter storms. I love the feeling of cocooning inside while the wind whistles and snow curls and swirls around our home, and we’re inside, warm and snug as bugs. And I especially love that it’s the time of year for one of our favorite traditions: every winter, my partner and I pick out a book or two to read aloud together. On deliciously cold, dark, winter evenings, we snuggle up together with a soft blankie and a mug of steaming hot tea and my sweetheart reads to me. We never set out to make it a tradition—it all started one winter when my sweetie suggested that I pick out a book for him to read to me. The first book I picked was A.A. Milne’s “The House at Pooh Corner”, which I’d never read as a child. We both loved the experience so much that we went on to read the rest of the Pooh books and vowed to make it a yearly winter tradition to read at least one book together.
Love is a funny thing. More often than not, the popular notion of love is confused with romance or other feelings, like infatuation, lust, insecurity or even jealousy and possessiveness. When I was very young, I learned the hard way that what I thought was love on my part, wasn’t. But isn’t that what those early relationships are for? To put yourself out there and learn from your own life experience what makes the stuff of good relationships?
For me, spring officially kicks off with the arrival of Peter and Lillian, two fanciful rabbits who have been turning up here each spring for eons.
Evidence of their existence came many moons ago. It was Easter break and I was in my second year of undergrad studies, buried up to my eyeballs in textbooks and study notes, frantically trying to prepare for final exams. I had a heavier course load than my friends, who had all taken off to go somewhere fun, while poor, poor me was stuck in the study hall. Continue reading →
Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth;
without rain, there would be no life.
~ John Updike
Rain, Glorious Rain
It’s the end of a gloriously rainy week and I’ve been out walking in the rain. I’ve been waiting for this—the lovely June rains have finally come, slowly seeping into the earth, splashing huge buckets of green all over my world. We’ve had a sublime week of on-and-off-again rain—what I call a perfect, nurturing rain—that beautiful, quenching, gentle kind of life-giving rain that soaks slowly and deeply into the receptive earth. At intervals, the sun came splashing through to highlight the beauty of it all.