I really was inspired by this fellow writer’s post today. I hope you enjoy as well and follow along!

The Better Man Project ™

I received this very interesting email today from one of my readers…and it put me into very deep thought about how I was going to respond. In short, the email was very gracious…and it was requesting that I write like I used to write, because those old blog posts (there was no specification to how far back she had been reading) were more meaningful to her and they connected with her more. I absolutely love receiving emails from people telling me what they are getting from this blog and what they like and don’t like etc. This one struck me not because of the request, but because it brought up something I have preached over the past few years. Being present. Which brings me to two amazing quotes by Hemingway on writing.

All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after…

View original post 908 more words

Life Lessons from Kite Surfing


Have you ever wondered about forgiveness and freedom?

Have you contemplated things we do in their names?

Is it possible to put ourselves in harm’s way with them?

I asked this of God while walking on the beach,

I asked him to show me, open my eyes and heart,

To recognize this truth I believe already exist.

I wondered and questioned and then I let go,

To pay attention to all the creativity happening.

Call it answers, call it evidence, whatever you please,

Because insight started to happen in my view of the beach.

Kite surfers racing on the water, on forces so strong,

They have to wield those forces to stay away from harm.

And it occurred to me, maybe I can learn from this…

The sea could be like freedom and the wind like forgiveness.

These things are strong and good, the only way to live.

Let us not put ourselves in harm’s way in their name,

But seek to know ourselves and God, our kite sail we ride,

So we can wield these life-giving gifts to ride a great life.




Wonderfully Perplexed

No answers, no assurances, no guarantees that I can see

Just wonderings and questionings, active curiosity.

Sometimes being still, sometimes listening, sometimes speaking

Is when I contemplate deeply, searching and seeking.

There’s insight, revelation, explanation to things unseen

It occurs on occasion, understanding fills my being.

There’s quiet, silence, waiting is harder than it seems

It stands between us and a reality, remaining like a dream.

What is the more rewarding, satisfying and growing

With our thoughts, inner-searching and exploring?

Looking around, seeing and feeling, facing unknowns out there

Leaves us wondering and questioning, tending to stare.

Asking aloud, asking ourselves, asking to simply ask

Can be unsettling, with its silence and no given task.

Nothing to do, nothing to act on, being back at the start

Just to listen, wonder more, causing us to look in our heart.

Perplexed…is what this feels like, perplexed…it works like art

Perplexed can be beautiful, wonderfully perplexed speaks of your heart.

Paying Attention

The bright light of sun rays entering the room,

Touching my skin warmly, tingling, gently burning.

A distant sound of trumpet notes calls out in the air,

Traveling from somewhere amidst neighboring houses.

A quietness fills the house, still and yet alive,

Like a center of peace, formed by the outer sounds.

A dog barking, cars driving by, even slight voices…

Yet stillness is in this house and I sense it in me,

That peaceful tranquility no matter what surrounds.

The tap-tapping of computer keys as I write these words down,

The bending of my legs, under me and against my chest,

The reflection of myself in the laptop screen,

Vague in shades of shadow and sunlight on my skin.

My toes are slightly cold, my body relaxed and at peace…

Amazing what paying attention can do,

It connects us to the present moment,

It can help us feel so deep,

It delights in the details and speaks to me…

Of letting go, of embracing more, of things I cannot see,

Especially of peace and how it feels when it comes from within me.

No matter what is around me or even what is within,

Paying attention connects and makes me see that I am living.

Remembering and Welcoming Winter

It comes to me as images in my head…

The colors are there, the feelings and even the smells.

I see white fluffy flakes, floating down from the sky,

A sky of slate-grey that fades into white,

Disappearing into snow-covered mountains, graced with dark green tree lines.

Scents in the air of pine and fragrant brewed coffee,

Feelings of bundled warmth, cozy socked feet,

Curled up with knees nuzzled and tucked under my hoodie,

Paired with fresh crisp cold, dry against my cheeks.

Yet it is the falling snow that to me is most poignant,

A memory so beautiful I love to remember,

How it looks, how it feels, the things it welcomes in for me.

Have you ever sat and watched the snow fall?

Have you felt it hit your cheeks, dazzle on your hair,

And melt into your uplifted eyelashes?

It can be the tiniest of delicate white ice,

Clear crystals just big enough to see as it shimmers down.

It can be in clumps of soft fragile white,

Filling the air like blown dandelion tendrils.

Even though I do not have it yet, even though I am far away,

I love remembering lovely snow and how I love it falling,

And it welcomes in the pristine lovely winter season for me.




No sound, feeling peaceful and serene.



Tranquility fills the air, it fills me.



Like comfort to my senses, rest for me.



A place unseen, a safe haven I feel.



I receive and grow, no depleting occurs.



To do is good, yet to know how to be is powerful.


It’s not about the Answers

I see them suffering, I hear their woes,

Listening to their hurtful souls.

They’re venting to me, being vulnerable,

Longing to be heard, understood.

I hear and relate, I can understand,

My heart feels for my friend.

To be set free, not hurt but overcome,

Is what we both want for them.

And I hurry to say, I feel it rise up in me,

I know the answers for you.

Yet when I speak , they still do not see,

They tell their story again, more.

But I have the answers for you, I think,

Let me try to tell it differently.

Then it dawns on me, I have to let go,

I’ve been in their shoes before.

Many times hurting, crying for answers,

Yet actually needing more.

A friend to be there, caring, listening,

Some words can be okay too.

There can be answers, yours may be mine,

I’m sure some see them when I don’t.

Yet we all need another journeying with us,

As we walk through what we feel.

Maybe it’s not about the answers,

It’s the actual search for them,

And who stays beside us as we seek.