Day: January 31, 2013

The Coila Garage transcends time. It sits, unchanged and quietly, outside of a small town in upstate New York. It is not of this time, but of another time. It evokes simplicity and clarity.  There are all kinds of machines inside and outside. I have not been inside of the Coila Garage, I see it is open and there is a light on inside. I don’t really want to go in. I want to imagine the inside, a time when a man in overalls and greasy hands took your car or lawn mower or truck and fixed it, quickly and honestly. A time before insurance companies set fees and online sites posted reviews and warnings. The Coila garage does not need customer reviews. It is, in and of itself, a review. It gets five stars from me. I think if I go through that door, I may just be swallowed up inside, transported to a place of dreams and memory.

Today is Celebration Day. I celebrate Maria. My agent loves the first chapter of my book on Simon, Red and Rocky (out in 2014) and called it “gorgeous.” I am getting galleys soon of my next book “Second Chance Dog,” a love story, a book coming out in October about me and Maria and Frieda. I am learning how to live my life in creativity, compassion and responsibility. I am sleeping well, almost every night. I am finding people in my life – friends. I get support every day from good and bounded people who care about me. I love my new farm, the donkey’s soft brays (not Simon). I have a love dog who makes me smile whenever I look at her, and the Helldog Frieda guards me while I write and keeps all those trucks away from the house. I have a wonderful new dog, who is my partner and my shadow. And I even love a cat.

I celebrate my camera and the miraculous gift it gives me of taking the images and feelings in my head and transmitting them to the world.  I celebrate my blog, heading into its sixth year, leading me into the new world – Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter. I even love my new contributions button which will keep my blog strong and free and I celebrate being able to be paid for what I do – a celebration of growing up. And I celebrate Maria, who has brought light and love into my life, every hour of every day. I celebrate a love that only grows and deepen. Each morning, perhaps, a day of celebration. Life is a gift. All of it. Life is a festival. Every day.

And why is it?

That looking back,

seems to sink the heart,

and weigh down the spirit?

Do we love what we see?

Mourn what is lost?

And left behind?

Seek a path back?

Is looking back, like its friend nostalgia,

just another trap,

another way of feeling lost?

Why does every master, monk, guru,

Preach living in the now.

Not looking forward,

Not looking back, to think of love,

that leaves,

and never leaves.

My angel is teaching me to look back with pride,

not judgement.

Like you, I did my best.