It may be a bit late for a Mother’s Day tribute,
but never too late for the words that truly embrace
that gift.
Here’s why:

“To My Mother

I was your rebellious son,
do you remember? Sometimes
I wonder if you do remember,
so complete has your forgiveness been.

So complete has your forgiveness been
I wonder sometimes if it did not
precede my wrong, and I erred,
safe found, within your love,

prepared ahead of me, the way home,
or my bed at night, so that almost
I should forgive you, who perhaps
foresaw the worst that I might do,

and forgave before I could act,
causing me to smile now, looking back,
to see how paltry was my worst,
compared to your forgiveness of it

already given. And this, then,
is the vision of that Heaven of which
we have heard, where those who love
each other have forgiven each other,

where, for that, the leaves are green,
the light a music in the air,
and all is unentangled,
and all is undismayed.”

poet, farmer, environmentalist,
as quoted in Garrison Keillor’s
Good Poems.

I hear those words and my heart feels light.
Who of us has not had to learn to be the
parent to ourselves, has not had to forgive,
again and again, as we skip a beat.

I am glad to know there is good reason for
green leaves, the airs of music, and for the
sure knowledge there is home on this beautiful,
fearsome planet.

always with love,

“And this, then, is the vision of that Heaven of which
we have heard, where those who love
each other have forgiven each other..”


This was original written on July 12th.

I was awakened suddenly from sleep just before 5 a.m.
this morning, hearing the words:

“Let me be an instrument of thy peace.”

It was part of a dream of someone coming up the stairs
saying those words. Now, I know somewhere I have that
prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. Then, I let that search go
and just thought about those words which carried with
them a feeling of deep happiness.

Have any of you been feeling pressures of time lately?
Opportunities for what should be summertime stuff
and gatherings are not happening because of all that
“needs to get done”. Surely I am not alone in this.

I got up, washed my face, had coffee and sat here,
looking around this familiar place and all seemed well.
All seemed in place.

Isn’t this what this year of 2012 is about? Each of us
engaged in our tasks; each of us allowing others the
space for theirs. A sense of acceptance for the way
life gets accomplished, changes show up, that’s what
I saw, knowing that today will be whatever I make
of it.

I will find the whole of that prayer and it might be a
guide for the daily grind with its multi-tasking and
headlines of dubious prediction. However, for me
now, that first line will be fine. That first line carries
a world of depth and adventure right here, right now.

Its simplicity is enough. I am enough. Time is also

The sun just broke through my window! Peace, all.

always with love,

“Its simplicity is enough. I am enough. Time is also enough.”


Shades of Astaire & Rogers, if you could have seen
me, dancing around my room with my chair wheels,
you would have known what wild delight it was for
me to move to music, the Big Bands of my youth’s
years of the Thirties and Forties.

I put my hands on the arms of my rolling chair quite
by accident, to move it out of the way so I could
make my bed. On my computer I had found the way
to have music in this room from Pandora One,
with help from my techie daughter Lizzie. Utter bliss.

Artie Shaw, with Begin the Beguine, took hold and
I took a turn, and then another, and I was dancing.
I walk with purpose and not easily. You’ve seen
my cane.

And yet, one accidental turn to music, and I was
dancing, my feet sure and safe, arms firmly
holding the “chair’s” arms, my heart light.
Who knew!

I thought you might find this worth knowing.
I went looking for a poem that might translate
this experience into a good ‘daily’ and found this:

“Tell all the Truth but tell it at a slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —”

………EMILY DICKINSON, from the book,
Good Poems, compiled by Garrison Keillor.

always with love,

“I was dancing…my heart light.”
Painting by Lucy Campbell


This morning I picked up an old favorite book of
meditations, BEING HOME by Gunilla Norris, illus-
trated by Greta Sibley. On page10, “Choosing What
to Wear” made me pause:

I saw penciled notes on the page, showing dates
on whichI had shared this meditation with you:

Can it be that many years that we have been in
touch on early mornings? Just knowing that
makes me so happy.
Time flies, and these pauses for poetry & thought
allow us so much space between spaces.

That’s magic.

So, here is that meditation, one more time:

“Is it a pink day, sky blue,
bottle green or black?
I look in the closet. What kind of day is it?
I want to respond to this day,
to feel my ‘yes’ to its color.

I stand by the closet door
barefooted before this choice.
When I pick now I want to remember
that You have picked me —
no self-made woman, but one brought forth
by the lives that have gone before me,
lives that have made mine possible…
from the first single-celled creatures,
those ancient ancestors.
to the dear ones I call parents.

Riches upon riches. LIfe shimmering forward.
Let me wear that ongoing color!
Let me wear the joy that matches this day.”

……….GUNILLA NORRIS, from the book.
“Being Home, A Book of Meditations. 1991

always with love,

Old School Antoinette
“Let me wear the joy that matches this day.”