Last of the Cherry Tomatoes
Hung upside down to ripen just before the weirdly warm Christmas. They aren’t very good.

Hung upside down to ripen just before the weirdly warm Christmas. They aren’t very good.

Today on the National Mall, one year since the failed insurrection. Resistance is yoga sadhana (and so is persistence).

Lucky to have a place to stand and see the sky while still being at home. With icy sidewalks and the pandemic raging, it seems a beautiful time to go inward.

When I was out working in the garden on Christmas Day, and it was unseasonably warm, and unduly dry, and the kale was thick with aphids, I looked at the sky and said that all I wanted for Christmas was some measurable precipitation.

May you experience in the coming year, no matter what comes or life calls of you, moments of joy, wonder, and connection.
Peace peace peace.

Quakers speak of allowing the way to open, Buddhists of resting in a space of not knowing.
Today I turned in my federal ID, computer, and keys, after over 30 years as a civil servant. What a privilege to be able to allow myself the freedom not to have made any significant plans for what comes next. After all those decades of focused work, to rest in the spaciousness of not knowing.
A friend whom I first met through work came and shared a meal and helped make the day festive.
