Already — A Poem To Start A New Year

For many of us, beginning of the calendar year has added energy of reflection and intention setting. For many of us, that reflection and intention setting brings us to aspirations. Sometimes to worries. For many of us, we seek simple habit, which is, often, to see clearly, and with kindness, what already is.

For me, morning journalling is, and has been, a regular reflective practice for many years now. I write. Sometimes a sentence or two burped out onto page. Sometimes a few paragraphs that walk me through a bit of wonder. Sometimes a poem, like the one below that woke from me this morning, on this start of a new calendar year and decade.

I find joy in welcoming simple in my psyche. Or the simple in my day to day living, an example of which is in the above photo — drying a sliced lemon, orange, and lime to use as Christmas Tree decorations.

I find serendipity in the surrender. Not as giving up. Burt rather, as accepting, and trying to know more the feeling of “moving with,” that, perhaps, already is, and is thriving.

Greetings in this new calendar year. May we each find enough of the insights and practices that so swirl within us, and among us. to do the good we can.



I wish to thrive.
I already am.

Cut the worry
for something already happening,
yet feared
for its absence.

Get simple.
I already am.

Celebrate the practice
of habit already entrained,
and helpful
for its presence.

Freed From the Need to Chase


This red rose above is blooming from the bush I planted to honor my Grandmother, Granny Gould, when she died three years ago. Each year since, as early as mid May, red roses like this greet me as I walk up the sidewalk from my carpark to my front door. Their greeting continues through to late September or October where I live. Granny was 95 when she died. She loved roses. Granny was firm, loving, kind, and beautiful. Like this rose. She stood where she was. She did what she could from where she stood. Like this rose.

This morning, I’m thinking about where I stand. I notice in me the way that I often have the feeling of chasing or of needing to chase. Perhaps chasing something outside of myself. Perhaps not trusting that what is within myself is ample and enough. I’m grateful for the conversation I had yesterday with friend, Chris Smyth, in which we wondered together about how this chasing, this do more / be more, has particular intensity in the psychology of men. Both for good and for not so good.

From all of that comes these words this morning.

Freed From The Need To Chase

What if
we were to free ourselves
from the need to chase?

Chasing success.
Chasing protection from failure.
Chasing some other person’s dreams.
Chasing some other version of our selves.
Chasing an unreachable comfort.
Chasing an illusionary security.

What if
this very moment
were completely full
and enough
just as it is?

What if
we were to just settle
into this moment,
this now,
this place that drops
the incessant need for more.

What if
we were completely enough,
just as we are,
in this ever dynamic
of life?