December 2, 2025

it’s still harvest season **

I’m trying to get into my studio more. Instead, this morning, I walked down
to Lake Ontario in the glorious sunshine. I told myself: You do not have to plaster
your face with false delight and enthusiasm. This made my heart sing. At a time 
when I have wondered so often what the hell to do, in this case I did 
the right thing. It’s easy to freeze, but we don’t travel away from ourselves 
so much as through. Yes, I miss the old days of the metaphysical bookshop, 
the roller rink. The rhythms and rituals and retreats. Yet I only have
to gaze at the Earth from a distance, and remember my place in it.
So today I have one thing to do: Lose myself somewhere. Because
there are ways we can take care of each other, even when the world 
appears to have grown so cold. What is your own particular awesomeness?
Now go to the hen house to release the hungry birds from their coop. 

© Maya Stein

** This piece is composed of a collection of Facebook status updates from friends, with scant editorial changes from me. Thank you to Stephanie Sharp, Jean Reinhold, Sue A. Gleason, Jill K. Berry, Laurie Wagner, Jeffrey Levine, Stephanie Wade, Judy Berk, Charlotte Donjon, Martha Rich, Kal Lembo, Elizabeth Cassidy, Nancy Sobanik, Virginia Pulver, Moody Sbeity, and James Crews for your lines!