Authenticity

Vibrance

Authenticity, Belonging, Connection, Performance
Posted on 6 Comments on Vibrance

When you see a musician grinning, his shoulders bouncing as he nods at the other musicians performing with him, it is obvious he is totally absorbed and in the flow of what he is doing, hearing, and feeling. It was wondrous to see this man play his djembe, an African drum. Vibrantly present in each moment.

Vibrantly present. It is often a challenge to be truly present in the moment, be it in a work meeting, talking through an issue with a family member, at a committee meeting, with one of your kids’ teachers, much less vibrantly so.

Seems to me the vibrance comes from joy. Being truly present is just as valuable as vibrantly, simply a different aspect of being present.

.

.

This passiflora vine absolutely delights me. It is exotic and beautiful. One of the gardeners at a local floral shop recommended it to me when the plant I came in for was gone for the season.

.

It is vibrant to me.

.

I had never seen a flower like this. Now where to plant it where its vines can grow vibrantly and the deer who are in my yard every day and evening, won’t devour it!

.

.

.

Passiflora vine (c)MDessein

How am I doing with my 3 Promises of things to absolutely do each day from Jack Canfield’s advice?
Good. Some days one of the things is something I was going to do anyway, some days there are things I go out of my way to do, things I have been putting off!


Yup, I am querying literary agents. I am going to perform at an open mic tonight.
My, oh my, the weeding is ongoing, like for the next decade! Yet, I feel progress even when I only do 10 minutes of it.


Vibrance.~*

Thanks for reading~

Flamboyant Exuberance

Authenticity, Tenacity
Posted on 8 Comments on Flamboyant Exuberance

Or perhaps exuberant flamboyance? Either way, these poppies and foxgloves are amazing. And the hundreds of Shasta daisies with some California poppies spouting through. People walking by my house stop to look, point, and some take pictures.

Amazing.

I am amazing.
I am incredible.

I am remarkable.

And some days, I am exuberant.

Say it with me now: I am amazing. I am incredible. I am remarkable.

The stories we tell ourselves, often created and told to us by others. The self-reports we make to ourselves.
Maybe you were taught as a kiddo that you needed to be modest and not say how great you were.

If someone praised your behavior or an attribute of yours, you were not supposed to say, “Yeah! You’re right!”

You are great. You have done wondrous and amazing things.

I get the conceited part. We all know folks who are a bit full of themselves.
Ah, the balance.

Flamboyance can be a wondrous element. Being buoyant is a good thing. Right? Exuberance is joyful and alive. Woo-hoo!

Say it with me now: I am incredible. I am amazing. I have done great things.
I am exuberantly, flamboyantly alive and blooming!


Yes, the querying of literary agents continues. Is all good.

Thank you for reading!

Sea shells via intuition

Authenticity, Beaches, France, Legacy, Sea Shells
Posted on 30 Comments on Sea shells via intuition

We had been at the off-leash dog park, my rambunctious pup and I. He’d had a good series of gallops, so I was feeling guilt-free that I had a bunch of quiet time, for him, of online tasks to do when we got home and practice for the open mic I planned on going to.
As I crested the top of the dramatic Keystone Hill Road and headed down the 11% grade, I could see the beach in the distance ahead of me. Ah, a walk on the beach, pick up some more white rocks for my garden bed, and listen to the waves swooshing in.
Nope, my do-it brain said, I had things to do. Yet a calling inside me beckoned: it is early yet, the beach is right here, Pup is happy now. Go to the beach.
So I did.
The tide was in, which left a narrow path of beach rocks between the wall of driftwood and the incoming waves. Within a few steps along the beach, I saw a long-lived sea shell there among the rocks and picked it up. What a gift!

Finding sea shells was always special when I was a kid with my folks and my Grandmere as we walked the Mukilteo or Kalaloch Beach.

What stories could this shell tell? It had clearly been up down, and all around for quite some time.

Recently, I heard Karl Olsen of the Trinity Lutheran Church in Freeland sing “Christmas in the Trenches.” Went right into my heart. His excellent voice and rendition of this song, written by John McCutcheon. An event on Christmas, 1914 that I believe we need to remember and explore. To hear John talk about it a bit then sing it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIxqJlnH2m8

My grandfather was stationed in eastern France during World War I, which is part of the impetus for the novel I am currently working on. His being there is how this part of my family got here, how where I am and who I am came to be. Oh, to talk with him now.

Walking along the beach, the waves washing up over my boots a few times as I reach down for those white rocks calling to me. I find another shell! How cool is that? Enjoying the walk as I balance myself on the unsteady rocks, hear the waves swish up to me, and keep seeing ‘one more’ white rock in front of me. Then I spot another shell! Woo-hoo! What a remarkable day this is.

Seems about time to head back to the car. I am nearing the logs and driftwood to climb over and there is a fourth shell! Indeed, this is a day to be remembered! Hi Mom. Hi Grandpa! Hi Grandmere (my mom’s mother)!

Indeed, I hold these shells wondering where they’ve been, what beaches have they seen and washed up upon, what creatures and how many lived in them. And what they would tell me if they could.

How fortunate that I listened to my inner voice. I am blessed indeed.
A wondrous, health-filled 2024 to you. Thank you for reading.

So … where is Home?

Authenticity, France
Posted on 18 Comments on So … where is Home?

Bon jour.
Having traveled a bit over the years, lived a few months in Italy in my early twenties, and lived most of my life in the Pacific Northwest, it is an interesting question for me now. Where is home? My adult children have lives and families far from me. I live in a comfortable home with a nice view. Is this my forever home? A new thought for me.

My recent trip to France was wondrous in every way. Paris is beautiful, historic and has endless things to do. Including sitting at an outside bistro enjoying watching the world of people bustling past, cars, and busses on their journeys. The Louvre, the metro, the Orsay, the Eiffel Tower, the crepes!

This cruise on the Seine river was fantastic. Another opportuinity for me to learn to be present and not rant about the unexpected obstacles. We got lost in Paris, missed our connection to enter the Eiffel Tower, and so were a couple hours late. If we had not been late, we would have completed our Seine cruise during the afternoon and missed the stunning sunset on the river.

The Apollo Gallery at the Louvre. Oh yeah, pretty impressive. It was the model for the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, which was completed in 1684. Versailles and the Louvre have been home for scads of people over the centuries. Things are still being discovered. Walls of the original medieval fortress were found under the Louvre as they excavated for the glass Pyramid in 1985.

Have you ever, or how many times, have you asked Where is my home? Is where I am now my forever home?

In Langres, the ancient town of my maternal ancestors, the question arose for me in a new and vibrant way. I re-connected with all four of my third cousins, and their families, after twenty-five years. Third cousins as our grandmothers were sisters. Rich, wonderful experience. Their children and grand-children are my fourth and fifth cousins! Yes, it matters. Family matters. Finding where we belong matters. Right?

Here is my new favorite refrigerator magnet: my four cousins and I at the Langres train station as I head back to Paris.

Am I going back to Langres? You bet!
Am I finishing my novel set in Langres? Oh yeah! Watch for it to be out early next year~

Thank you for reading my blog.
Merci d’avoir lu mon blog.

Blueberries from Peru?

Authenticity, Being human, Belonging, Bookstore, Change, Choices, Music
Posted on 10 Comments on Blueberries from Peru?

Indeed, it is the end of December. Blueberries have been out of season for months here in the Northwest. Yet they are on sale at the local supermarket. The label says they’re from Peru and Chile.
Again the question and thought arise: How has the world changed so much in the last decade? I will spare you my theories about that, I am working on clarity and not blaming!

Successes this year? Getting healthier, being more patient with my pup, who is now 2, helping my family, scads of work done on my home, walking regularly. And getting my book completed and published! Up on Amazon, so now the ongoing marketing.

Dmitri Matheny, my book, and I at the Anacortes Library in October.


A piece of clarity recently delivered was how the book, my pup, and the myriad of issues with my house have distracted me from my music. A couple of recent gigs and one coming up have brought back that missing element to my life. And it feels good to have it back, a void that I had not noticed until it said, “Hey, no practice, no gigs! No practice and your playing sucks!” Oh yeah, and I forget stuff! There is a richness and a being present when I play music, even practicing scales.

Practicing gratitude daily has also become part of my life. My opportunities, my freedom, my view of Admiralty Inlet, having a carport, my pup, caring and supportive people in my life, my adult children’s stability and families, my return to lap swimming. Oh yeah, and blueberries in winter.

All the best to you in 2023, it portends to be an abundant, productive year.
Thank you for reading.

Copyright © 2026 Your Name. All rights reserved.