There's nothing like a slip on the ice to remind a girl that a) she's mortal, hence b) she's not invincible, and c) she's learning how to fall.

More later.

Maybe.

P.S. Yesterday morning the scene above was completely covered in snow. If that hadn't been the case, I assume I could have managed to avoid that icy strip. Probably.

A sweet compliment both surprised and delighted me today.

It feels like I've been running full out for the past six months or so. The deadlines have been unrelenting, the task list over-long, and the only way I know to get through it is to focus solely on what has to get done, one task after another no matter how long it takes or how tired I might be or what someone else might need. There isn't much give in this kind of schedule, and there certainly isn't much room for humanity or grace or connecting with another. Not exactly the way I want to live and not even remotely how I'd imagined my life might unfold.

This is not an uncommon experience for me, this running until I drop. The uncommon thing about right now is that I'm sitting here knowing that, once again, I've allowed someone else's deadlines to call the shots for my life and I'm not trying to fix it this very instant. I'm just noticing. It doesn't feel very productive, but being present isn't about productivity. It's about mindfulness and compassion that will hopefully lead to insight and wisdom.

In the year my mom ran away, she learned to make stars. Even after my siblings and I entered her life, she still remembered how. These stars, borne of her story, continue to shine.

Eye contact builds fortitude and courage. I try to practice whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Lured by what seems like the easy route, I sometimes find myself out of my element and unable to find my way home.