The Promise of Spring
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Hello friends, We’re in the midst of a glorious false spring here in Portland, Oregon. Crocuses are blooming, and plum trees and daffodils are showing small buds. The air is cool and fresh, the sun shines, and yesterday, a small red finch scoped out the front porch of our 108 year old home, seeing if there’s a good spot to nest. Finches nested on our porch a couple of years in a row a few years back. Seeing that finch lifted my heart. Seeking a place to nest is a sign of hope. There is a future. There are plans to make and eggs to lay and hopefully, some chicks to be born. These days, I’m doubling down on hope. Not the pie-in-the-sky variety, but the taking-small-actions type. Social unrest and uncertainty keeps happening, but that doesn’t mean I’m not taking action today for possible good things to come. Maybe you’re in a good place this week, or maybe you’re struggling. Or maybe, like many of us, you are some combination of both. Regardless, today I wonder: What gives you hope this week? What actions are you taking, small or large, to build a nest to cradle better possibilities? I’d love to hear from you. Best wishes - Thorn Need a break? How about joining an intrepid crew of con artists and thieves finding justice for the downtrodden? My Mouse Thief novella ebooks are discounted on my website: ThornCoyleBooks.
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T. Thorn Coyle
Hello friends, What happens when we’re not inspired? Or worse, what happens when we’re downtrodden, or exhausted, or want to give up? Well… Rest is always a good option when we can make space for it. Refilling the well is another strategy: going for a walk, reading a novel, listening to music, sitting under a tree, watching a movie, meditating… Other times, we have to adult, don’t we? The thing I’ve learned though, is that adulting goes better if I don’t carry the attitude that this sucks and...
Hello friends, There I was, on our tiny back mud porch—earbuds in, writing business podcast queued up—putting my boots on. A strange, metallic noise sounded from the back garden. I looked up. A crow was at the birdbath. Not the source. I shrugged, slung my bag with my writing paraphernalia over my shoulder, pressed play on the podcast, and stepped out. The strange sound cut through the podcast voices. Pulling an earbud out, I found the source: a squirrel on the fence, busily grabbing,...
Hello friends, While walking to meet some other writers in a café for our usual co-working date, I saw a piece of standard 8.5x11 inch paper stapled to a utility pole. It was one of those “rip off the tab at the bottom” fliers. I haven’t seen one of those in years, it seems. You may remember them. The “I walk dogs” or “yard work available” ads, with a fringe cut at the bottom, so a passerby could easily rip off the salient information, tuck it into a pocket, and then forget about it until...