Tuesday, June 9, 2020


There’s was a Monsoon here this morning. It was raining like I’ve never seen it rain here in our rain shadow of Vancouver Island. And it’s dark out. The clouds must be very thick.
I doubt that Her Highness and I will venture outside much today. I’ll be finishing my book, doing some shopping and some baking. Tomorrow’s predicted to be wet too. So, naps are in order.
When I’m home (indoors our out), my thoughts emerge from what my body is doing or from the concerns or challenges I’m facing. When I’m at home, I’m not conscious of where I live. I’m just conscious of my existence. 
But when I have to walk Sheba or do an errand and I have to get into my car and go somewhere, I immediately become conscious of how blessed I am to live on this little island in the Salish Sea—to live in a quiet, slow and peaceful heavily forested paradise (even when it’s pouring with rain).
When I went to Rollo Park yesterday afternoon, Gunther was there, and so was Anna, the conspiracist, and Rick, who’s ever second word is “fuck,” I was surprised and happy to see them and we had a great, great visit with not a work about a conspiracy or Covid-19 or how “they” are going to get us. 
All I did, most of yesterday, was read and water the gardens once I got home from the small dog walking group. It was another day of rest like all my days of late.
Sometimes I just stand in my backyard—not for long; maybe for a minute—and, at once, revel in its beauty and wonder at the miracle that I moved here. I feel divinely guided. 
My pets have a similar effect: they give me immense pleasure. I live with other souls who make me feel trusted and loved and their every sighting makes me flush with love, joy and gratitude.

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