Writer. Storyteller.
I wrote yesterday I have no substantial fear in my privileged life. Let me re-frame that…in this moment of late October 2016.
I arrive at this page again to write. Just write. To put words on the page. To practice mining through the details of this glorious, mysterious life.
******
It’s the eve of Halloween. My favourite national holiday. It’s my favourite because of…
Some days, many days, when I’m just still enough and quiet enough, I hear it.
It’s a quiet vibration. A hum. A pulse.
It enters me like an arrow. And leaves a trail of white hot energy. Like the streaking tail of a shooting star.
I was near death. I sat next to it on the family room couch. Occasionally, I would reach over and rub its fuzzy head.
Death crept silently around our house for the better part of a year. We’d just moved back to Canada. Death was there to greet us. It came for…