Poem: Sweet Lies

How many blown out wishes

just climb onto the curling smoke

and float away

I have breathed hard into my dreams

forced my diaphragm to believe

that blowing would make it true

The melting wax proves my plight

but the cavity left empty by sweet lies

leaves me wondering

if any of them

ever came true




This amazing painting was created by the most  important, talented and influential person in my life. She has been an artist for many, many years working in all sorts of of mediums from oils to stone, much of it self taught. This talent moved her to become a teacher herself where she was respected by a host of adults who never dreamed of creating gorgeous stone sculptures prior to her tutelage. 

I have always believed she could do anything she put her mind to (except maybe fix a leaky faucet, but that’s another story) and felt if you could read you could do anything. 

This painting is her latest, started before she became quite ill. It sat for some time and she feared she wouldn’t finish it, but it’s a testament to her strength and perseverance that she did. 

I’m blessed with it’s beauty now on my wall which will be a constant reminder of her beauty. It’s intricacies remind me too that we all have depth that is worth exploring. 

It is with gratitude that I accept such a gift and love is what I return. And whenever I look at it I will always feel my deep connection with this most special person, my Mom. 

The Good Battle

There are certain moments in life where we are given a gift that sets us free. News that lifts us high and helps us to remember life is good and beautiful. Lately I have been given many of these moments and for them I am truly grateful.

It is so easy, with our fast paced, whirlwind lives, to take life for granted. To forget our connection to family and friends. We press on so hard into our daily tasks that we may not stop to look around us to see the wonders that abound. They are all around if we just take a second to see them.

Feeling compelled by life to have material wealth, we sometimes lose spiritual well-being. We take jobs that make us unhappy or keep people near us that really prove to have negative energy.

Because I am getting older and finally see the wisdom in serenity rather than money, my choices from now on will be very different.
This is my promise to myself.

As my Mother heals, I reflect on my good fortune to be able to be near her and help get her stronger. It is a blessing that such an awful thing can actually turn out to be something wonderful because it has bonded us so closely together. She is an amazing woman and together we are invincible.

And I also got a new lease on life today, which I will not take for granted. I’m grateful because I know that not everyone is as lucky as I am. I wish it could be so for all whom I love. But together we fight the good battle, and we’ll win anyway.

Because in the end, our spirits will all collide and meet somewhere someday anyway…….


While I don’t like to admit it, I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older (and have embraced my gray hair) I’ve become invisible. In my younger life, I was never, ever an invisible person. Even when I felt then (unbeknownst to my then introverted self) that the crowds were getting a bit too much for me. Somehow I still stood out shall we say. My personality was somehow bigger than my small frame… even when I didn’t want it to be.

It was my big mouth I suppose: always standing up when I felt injustice was happening, or whispering an irreverence at inopportune moments. Or when I felt someone (preferably someone of authority) said something I felt stupid and needed to be put straight. Yep, I never held back, and usually got in trouble, bringing attention to myself and therefore was definitely not invisible.
Plus I was never, ever a follower. And in fact, usually a leader. Starting a trend maybe, like the first one to wear hot pants in my high school. To me, they were just cool. Or to bring cloth bags to the grocery store 40 years ago when everyone thought I was nuts. Or becoming a vegetarian about the same time because it simply made sense. And being the ‘class clown’ and ‘most inclined to argue’ also put me in the class of calling attention to myself–just like George Carlin so aptly said…Hey, look at me!

Did I need attention? I don’t know? I just know that I was an only child and loved school and my friends and loved to get into it with anyone who would participate in good debate or humor. Or I did some things simply because they made good sense to me and I believed they were right. It never occurred to me that not everyone felt the same way. In fact, it might be better if they didn’t.
So now that I’m 60, and suddenly a senior citizen–it seems so odd to say that because I still feel like a kid–and part of the class of people who most ignore. It feels crazy. Me, the person that most folks used to gather around and laugh with, or got yelled at, or who got sent to the principal’s office because I was so disruptive. Now I can’t even mange to worm my way into a conversation because it’s assumed I have nothing of value to say. It’s utterly amazing to me.

At least this is what I find among the folks where I work. It’s a mixed crowd of both young and middle aged…not too many my age. I’m in the hub where people come and go and I could just be a chair really. When they bring new people around, most times I don’t even get introduced. I find it rude really. The new gal that does my job in the evening is 27, pretty and has far more attention from folks (men and women mind you) fluttering around her in a couple of months than I do in nearly a year there.

Is it because our society doesn’t value age and wisdom? Certainly I have become less in need of the attention I once did. I’m more subdued and quiet and more observant. Maybe I don’t draw the attention any longer.

It’s quite interesting to watch the squabbles, the dances and cruelties. I’m proud to have joined the ranks of the wise ones actually. There’s humor sitting back while seeing those that make fools of themselves as I once did or listen to tales of woe and know how unimportant these things really are in the grand scheme of life.

I only hope I’ve taught my own daughters to treat their elders better than I am treated at work. And I hope I never acted in this way. We can certainly choose moments to be invisible, but no-one should make  someone feel that way. We all have the same rights to be equally colorful, vibrant and brilliantly seen.

Zoe The Only Child: Why Not Me?

The day broke brilliant and warm in the small village where Zoe lived with her Mother. Zoe’s Father had died when she was very small. Her Ma had told her how it had happened, but she always forgot. Or maybe she just didn’t want to remember. Today was one of those days, because today was a special day. Today a special person was coming to visit the little school where Zoe and the other kids went everyday (except on weekends) to learn about all sorts of interesting things.


Most kids didn’t like school, but Zoe loved it! She loved learning her A, B, C’s and singing songs and especially her wonderful teacher Miss M (she had a very long name, so she told the children to call her Miss M to make it easier). But most of all Zoe loved to learn about the earth and it’s creatures.


Miss M would bring out books and pictures of animals like turtles and deer and tell the kids all about them. She would talk about the trees, flowers and the sky. Sometimes Zoe would forget she was in school and float away on the back of a dolphin. Miss M would have to say, “Zoe, where are you, are you here in this class?” But Miss M would have a big smile on her face when she said this to Zoe because she knew that Zoe was daydreaming about all the wonderful animals. Miss M told Zoe she had a big imagination, which meant she could make lots of stories in her head.




Today Miss M had invited a special person to class to talk about the earth. He was a scientist! He knew lots about animals and the world. Zoe was so excited she could hardly eat her breakfast. But Ma made her do it so she wouldn’t get hungry later. After she gobbled it down, Zoe ran to school down the dirt street, kicking up dust as she flew. Zoe was thinking about all the animals the man would talk about and said out loud to herself,  “Maybe the man will even talk about lions?” She often spoke to herself because she had no brothers or sisters and Ma was usually busy. 



As she burst into the classroom, she looked around to see if the man was there. He had not arrived yet and Miss M told her to be patient. Zoe was never very patient and wiggled and squiggled in her seat until finally, sometime later, she noticed a very tall person with a dark moustache enter the room.

“This, children, is Mr. Goodfoot and he’s here to talk to us about the earth, animals and conservation.” Zoe knew all the words except the last big one, the one that began with a “C”. And Zoe thought the man had a very funny name. It had two words put together.


The kids hushed while Mr. Goodfoot got his stuff ready–he had pictures that he flashed on a screen. He showed wolves, whales, coyotes, hawks and more. His moustache moved up and down while he talked about how there was no more land for these animals to hunt for their food, how the ocean is dirty and the air thick with smog. The more Zoe listened, the sadder she became.


Mr. Goodfoot said humans were doing this to the animals, that humans were taking away the places for animals to live and have their babies and grow. Zoe could not understand why this was true? She did not hurt these animals, she loved them. How could she be hurting them? She didn’t see people taking the land, they only lived in their houses. Zoe became very confused.


“Conservation,” said Mr. Goodfoot, “means we must take care of these animals, the earth, the water and the air, or we will have nothing left, not even animals. Some kinds of animals,” he continued seeming to look right at Zoe,  “are already gone, like the dodo bird.” The room fell silent for a moment. He finished his talk and then the class ended like always.

But Zoe was not the same after his talk. What had started as a beautiful day, was now bleak and dark. Zoe was sad and did not know what to do. The animals she loved were leaving the earth and Mr. Goodfoot seemed to blame her too. Afterall, he had looked right at her! He said all humans were hurting the earth, and Zoe knew she was maybe one of them. Zoe headed home feeling heavy inside, like she was carrying a big stone in her backpack.


Zoe lay in bed unable to sleep. Tossing and turning that night Zoe tried to think of what she could do. As a child, Zoe felt she was too young and it might be too late anyway. Zoe thought, “I must figure out what I can do to stop it or there will be no animals left when I grow up.” She finally drifted off to sleep filled with dreams of animals calling out to her to help them.


The next day was Saturday, so there was no school. Zoe decided to visit the village elder. This meant that this person had lived for many, many years. She was a very smart woman, wrinkled and stooped. No-one knew just how old she really was, but many sought her wisdom because she had lived in the village since way before most people could remember.

With drooping shoulders and a heavy heart, Zoe walked along the village streets to the home of Ranela.

Quiet knocks on Ranela’s door brought scuffling footfalls. The door creaked open and an old woman answered, her warm smile greeted Zoe to enter the little house. “Hello Zoe my dear, what brings you to my home,” said the tiny woman with the long white braid?

With teary eyes and sorrowful words, Zoe murmured, “A man came to my school and told us that we are all killing the animals on earth. I am sad because I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. What can I do?”


Ranela gently brought Zoe to sit on her comfortable chairs and together they bowed their heads in silence for some moments. Zoe looked up and saw that Ranela seemed have gone to a faraway place as Zoe watched the old woman’s face. Her breathing was steady and slow. Zoe was trying to be patient, but it was always so hard to be quiet and wait for a grownup.


Finally Ranela looked up. “We are all interconnected like a spider’s web Zoe,” she sighed,  “when something happens at one end, it is felt at the other. When humans plow the land to grow wheat to feed cows that they raise for meat, the land is wasted and could have been used to grow food for humans instead. When humans drive thousands of cars that need fuel, and then a ship breaks carrying the oil that makes gas, the oil gets dumped in the ocean. Then much of the marine life is killed. Everything we do, everything we need, everything we touch has a reaction in nature,” said Ranela tiredly.


Zoe sat for a minute. What Ranela seemed pretty complicated, but she thought she might understand. Finally, Zoe was ready to speak. “Is it like the time that I forgot to shut the door tight and Buster got out and ran away? Ma was mad because he came home and was hurt.” “Yes, something like that,” said Ranela softly, “you weren’t careful so an animal you loved suffered . Both your Mother and Buster were hurt because you did not remember to shut the door. So you see, everything we do may change another being’s life.” 


Zoe thought about these words. It seemed scary that little things she did could hurt someone or something else.  “But how can I change these things, I’m only a child,” Zoe asked jumping up from her seat feeling frustrated and frightened?

“Even a child can make a difference,” said Ranela calmly with her deep blue eyes staring into Zoe’s. “You can make choices: you can stop eating animals and by your example others may too. You can study as you grow older to help the earth and all its creatures, go to school to be a scientist like that man or a teacher. And every day you can try to make very little garbage and think hard about what you want, what toys you really need. With everything you do: always remember that is has a consequence somewhere else in this world,” Ranela said firmly!


“What does consequence mean?” puzzled Zoe.  Ranela looked carefully in Zoe’s young eyes and said, “Whatever you do may change something somewhere else: to an animal, to our water, to the air and to Mother Earth”. So think wisely in all you do,” Ranela smiled.

With this, Zoe thanked the elder and started on her way home filling with new ideas and more hope. Zoe thought that if she grew up to be someone who would help the animals maybe they wouldn’t all die. Zoe began to think of all the things she could do RIGHT NOW to help her animal friends that spoke to her in the dream. 

She could stop eating meat right away because she never really liked it anyway. Toys were silly and they usually broke and made more garbage to fill the earth, so she would tell Ma to save her money. And maybe she could start teaching her Ma, the kids in school and other people about ‘consequences’ and maybe, just maybe things would start changing. 

Zoe knew this might be hard, and she would have to be patient, but she was brave. She could learn to be patient, her animal friends needed her to be. So with a deep breath she said out loud, maybe even loud enough for someone else to hear, “Someone has to do it, so why not me?” And with that, Zoe skipped back home feeling just like a kangaroo.