Musings on a Cold Winter’s Morning

I had my hopes up. I was excited.

And then I checked the weather before taking Beaumont for his early morning walk. Still cold. -30C with windchill (-22F)

Dang. The weather folk said it would be warmer today. Now I’ve got to wait another day?

Nothing to do but do what I always do when it’s this cold. Bundle up. Go outside. Savour the beauty of the morning.

And that’s the thing. No matter how cold it is outside, dressing for the weather means I can enjoy the fresh morning air. I can enjoy the sound my boots make crunching on the snow and how the crisp air wakens all my senses. And, when Beau has done his business and we have crossed the bridge to get to the garbage can on the other side and turned around for the homeward journey, we return to a warm toasty home.

Inside, I give Beau a treat, make myself a latte and sit down at my desk in front of the big window over looking the river. The furnace hums. Beau stretches out on the chaise beside me and C.C. sleeps in our bedroom on the other side of the house. All is well with my world.

Outside, the sky is getting lighter. The trees stand in silent majesty along the riverbank separating our yard from the river’s wide expanse. Between the two shores and the huge ice island that has formed in the centre of the river, water flows. In the streak of light cast from the streetlight at the farside of the bridge Beaumont and I walked across earlier, the water shimmers and dances.

I breathe. Deeply. I allow my conscious mind to sink deep, deep into my belly where every breath in and out is an invitation to release myself to this present moment. Embodied in its wonder I sink deeper into the knowing of all that is and all that connects me to the mysterious beauty of life unfolding all around and within me.

Eyes still closed, I raise my fingertips to my keyboard and begin to type. I feel…

 I feel…
 my heart beat
 my mind
 my thoughts
 drifting away

 I feel…
 this moment
 teeming with life
 ever expanding
 out, out, out into the universe around me

 I feel…
 settle deep within me

 I feel
 at one
 in this moment
 right now

I feel

Try it.

All you need is your laptop open in front of you, or a notepad and pen at the ready.

Let yourself sink deep into the quiet. Take a deep breath in, out. Close your eyes. Keep breathing. Keep sinking. Deeper. Deeper. Keep breathing. Imagine your conscious mind sinking, deeper, deeper into your body until it comes to settle in the well of your pelvic bowl. That deep mysterious, magical place full of your creative essence.

Now, eyes still closed… pick up your pen or raise your fingertips to your computer keyboard. Don’t worry about spelling. punctuation. sentence structure. just type/write. Don’t think. Just be present to whatever your belly mind wants to express.

Let go of judgement. Thinking about what to write. Just let the words flow.

Write until you’re empty. Complete.

And when you’re done, open your eyes. Take a deep breath and read whatever you’ve written.

Don’t judge. Don’t criticize. Don’t let your body go all tight and embarassed. Expand it. Loosen your shoulders. Relax.

And savour what spilled out onto the page.

And then, turn the page.

Life continues.


I wrote a love poem yesterday. It’s for you and me and everyone.

If you’d like to read/see it, I’ve put it on my poetry blog – A Poetry Affair. It’s a gift from my heart to yours. Click HERE

8 thoughts on “Musings on a Cold Winter’s Morning

  1. Prose is easy – write and write and write some more, and then write even more; edit, of course, but there is no limit to how much we can pour in, add it, paste in, shuffle around, and then add some more.

    Poetry is the reverse of this art form – taking words out and leaving the meaning on the page.

    I love poetry, I love to have written poetry, but I struggle hard to make more of less, which is what we need to do with poems. It’s like painting the fingerprints of life without showing the fingers.

    For those who care, besides being Family Day, today is Canadian Flag Day.

    So, flag, I salute you.

    And friend, I salute you too.

    Poem on …

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ahhh… like you, the words pour out — and I struggle to cut them back to their bare bones.

      But first, I must start with the pouring out…. 🙂

      and I didn’t know that!

      I salute you too my friend, poet, work-pourer-outer.

      Poem on… indeed! (love that phrase btw – thanks!) happy Day


  2. Family Day – should be every day. Yet, in 2021 it has taken on a much more meaningful import. News reports of a rise in domestic violence, at least those reported, physical abuse of young and old alike, increase in divorce / separation cases. This enforced togetherness caused by the pandemic pandemonium has stretched many a “normal” family’s very existence beyond the pale.
    Mark kindly reminded your readership that today also is Canadian Flag Day. Yet there is little, if any, news coverage about it. I recall the first time I heard that stores were staying open on Canada Day, July 1. Whatever happened to being proud of the country we live in, to celebrate its history, both good and not-so-good. In my daily walk today I was glad to see that grocery stores are closed. Others are still under lockdown rules for another 12 hours. The chase for the almighty dollar needs to take a break so that we can all take stock of where we live, what we are grateful for. This year’s Canada Flag Day, at least in the Middle Kingdom, appears to be on the right track.
    Enjoy the day, stay warm and safe. Better days ahead.


  3. There is a huge difference between using our thinking to write and letting writing happen. This is just what I hope people will walk away with from the writing circle experience.
    Keep sharing your beautiful light in the world. Your art. Your words. It is wonderful to follow your journey.


Real conversations begin with your comments. Please share your thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.