1.7.26

 It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood

Sky overcast

Thick with gray blankets overhead

There were some appointments/stacatto

And then, of course

Dog walks

I spent 12 years

Soaked in the loveliness

Of living with Dante

Magnificent being that he was

It’s interesting what remains

After someone is no longer

Living

Breathing

It’s fascinating. how if we.

Intend to grieve honestly

Clearly

We get to the other side

After all of that aching sad beauty

And on the other side is

Phenomenal stuff

Clarity

Insight

The capacity to perceive beyond

Just living, breathing realm

We all encounter this, whether we

Leave a helpful or treasured place

Or a time in our lives of a certain

Really wonderful configuration

There are things that occur in hindsight

That are unable to come to us

In the present moment

Initially, I was so shocked

At the vast distance between the two

And then I settled down Into

The comforting beauty

Because on days when I was

Stable enough

Balanced enough

Present enough

Then, just like you

I was far more capable

Of sensing and perceiving

The whole deal going on

It’s funny, isn’t it?

And I don’t know if other species are like this or not

But humans decide that

But exist is what they each

Can experience

Perceive

We tend to be stuck in this paradigm

Where if we can’t

Detect some phenomena

With our senses

It must not exist

I’m telling you it’s a

Curiously self-absorbed

Position to stick ourselves to

When we find out that

Other animals can

See and hear and smell and feel and taste

All of this huge realm of stuff

That we are unable to get anywhere near

We dismiss that from our mind completely

Either that or we

Make believe that it can’t be so

I remember once one of my siblings

Had settled the scoliosis of a teenager

Who in the past with doctors had had

Unfortunately

Many x-rays

And the newest x-ray showed

No scoliosis whatsoever

The parents explained the bodywork the kid was getting

And the doctor puzzled over the x-rays, and then said

That the past x-rays must’ve been mistaken

I swear

That was the best he could do

Right there is a human propensity

So here on this beautiful

January day

Of dark glistening clouds

The slate blue rushing river

I went out with my two dogs

Ember, A terribly intense

Two-year-old German Shepherd

And Taschen

Five month old German Shepherd

With my cleats on

We happily traversed our favorite place

One of the Eagles was perched to the side of their nest

On the island

In the river

By the bridge

Quietly hunting

The black and white flock of ducks

Disappearing and appearing

As they fed

In the waters

We walked and slipped around

The dogs sniffing and snuffling

Each step we took

An adaptation

An acknowledgment

Seeing what we could do to

Simply take in

The moment challenges of our time here

The disastrous choices of 48.9%

Of our nation here

And then the untold endless possibilities

Tucked into

Every single moment

1.3.26 Well Hello Again

 You have to admit

It’s pretty interesting

How life comes around the bend sometimes

And smacks into you

And you turn

And you recognize

And you smile

And your heart becomes full

Your heart becomes full of

All these living beings

So many kinds of organisms

And you are one of them

And years ago

Perhaps you woke up in the morning

And went to bed at night

And scrambled around

When you fell off the path

Lying there in the ditch

Legs struggling

Wondering if you would be able to

Get up again

And then you did Get up, didn’t

And you learned to

Just let the love for yourself

Slide deep inside of you

Despite your being

Perfectly imperfect

And sometimes you turn the corner

And you bumped into things that you made

Long Ago

And you get to know each other again

You get to know yourself again

You get to peer out into the fog and distance

Where others reside

And just feel the grace of all

Life changing

Times shifting

Growing older

Watching the garden of your life

Ebb And flow

Watching the evidence of how you

Inexplicably repair and come back to life

Who knew

I don’t know about you

I find life to be phenomenally difficult and confusing

Magnificent heart rending

Just like this day we have been given right now

Over here,

In this small life

Eight years later

There is a little cottage

In a little village

Filled with friendly people

Who want the best for everyone

And lots of them have dogs

And no matter the weather

They go walking around and round the little streets

Of the little town

And often enough, there are Sunday branches

Poetry readings

Evening black-eyed peas, meals by the outdoor fire

An email thread where they

Ask for rides

And offer up unwanted things

And complain about stuff

Older than before

I happily live in my little cottage

I have freedom now

I have peace and grace

There was a shit show of weird stuff

In my life before

But it’s gone now

I continually repair

Like the rest of us

I went to trap and neuter black kittens

Behind a friends house

They were Emaciated

I brought them into my home where they have stayed

Wild, beautiful, black cats

I have five other cats with enormous

Cat towers and cat patios, and

A separate place where the dogs can’t go

My beautiful Dante is dead and gone

And Ember Is here, 2, 

And Taschen (5 mo)

I see my clients in my practice again

I walk dogs

I think about Yevtushenko Often

He sat quietly

And cracked nuts

Growing older

Crafting beauty

Considering livelihood

Dancing with the cosmos

Being and becoming

All good things

In the midst of crazy awful nation

Driven by 48.9% of the population of my country

Brutalizing the world and our own people

Still, we make beauty

Still, we do what we can 

for the good of all

Welcome back

We are all here

Here We All Are, 2026

 I’m not quite certain how I got to this destination 

Today, of all days

Old poison flowing so far adrift

The guy stuck in the kitchen

Searching me out, hopeless 

Grief of the loss of

A good cultivated target

The delight of crafting

 covert harm

Watching the suffering

 

But turns out

Even with those dead and gone gone

You can block them 

And effortlessly 

And then Guidance can check in

Convey the essence of them

Pissed off

Twisting in the wind

Wondering how their plan 

Went so

Wrong 

In the meantime, no longer is 

Anyone holding me down

Under

Deep incapacitated in a 

Psychopath’s induced

Coma 

Instead, I'm 

Way over here

Completely undetectable to him

Though the guy

Sends out hunting parties 

Lights off a few flares

Turns out i sold the place

After copiously cleansing it weekly for years

Not quite certain where

The evil, the stench 

Was originating from

Now I see all the ritual, the smudge

Was to purify from his 

Choice cut Malevolence

Leaking , draining out upon

Everything

Now I’m far from there

I bet the main squeeze( of 17

Thankyou very much )

Might still leave her pathetic fucking 

Balloon, glass vase of flowers 

Turning to ice 

On the road by the mountain range 

Coward

If I had just known

I would've dropped him off

At her little house

She could’ve had him

Too bad

She begged to come by anonymously 

Visit his death bed

She thought she could stink by me

What an odd one

Too bad all you got

Were some sunglasses, a copy of the

Wind chime i asked him for

A special name turns out he called all of them

A ring to cover your

Deceit, your desperation

Now you don't even know

He let the train into the light go by

Betting he Stay behind 

Suspended in the kitchen 

To the left of the stove, I’ll have you know 

So he could suck me dry

Forever

Sheesh, if he ever saw me now

Beautifully situated in a 

Little community village

Beautiful solid cottage 

Recovered enough from his harm 

to work my magic again, my practice

Two German Shepherds, you heard me right

So many cats

Peace and honesty and a 

Thick spiritual life

Every day filled

With grace

If he only knew

He'd be outraged

He would HATE my success, my reputation

Me having nice things

Me, living with solidity and happiness

God, He would ache

To destroy me again 

A few years ago somebody asked 

Mia Farrow

What she thought of

That pedophile she had been 

in relationship with

And she replied

It really didn’t interest her anymore

When all this went down

When the big reveal started rolling out

Secrets and money And so much more

I thought of her words

And my goal was recovering

So beautifully and so thoroughly

That that shit show with him

Simply would not interest

Anymore

Mostly that’s true

But here is a blog

That he used to share

With all those circling about

It was it was part of his game

To tell about his family

He was pretty good  at it

They all kept his secrets

Thinking they were special

After he kicked off, and I started writing

About malevolence and harm

One of them sent me a direct message

They had played around 

But he was clear how important

His family was

Silly them

That was just part of the game

Years ago, WordPress said

This was all closing down

Goodbye

I had been very sick for a bunch of years

Turns out evading an Auto immune disease

Brought to my knees

By a predator

So I would take walks with my dog

And think about things

And photograph the beauty

And then share it

This was way before social media

And it would show thousands and thousands of people

All over the world

Looking at what I wrote

I wasn’t quite sure why

It was just quiet thoughts

Words and pictures

It was all supposed to disappear

That’s what they said

I assumed it had all evaporated

But , Go figure 

here we are years later

And somehow it’s still here

And I am approaching a date

That could be considered an anniversary of sorts

Birth and death and predators and 

The delicious propensity for so many of us 

To transform into a 

Phoenix

The thinning of the curtain

Probably all of those thousands and thousands of people

In Africa and Pakistan

Are long gone

But that happens in life doesn’t it?

Sometimes we just express ourselves

Because there’s some kind of song inside of us

That might be of interest to absolutely nobody but us

Words and pictures

And sometimes that’s enough to be grateful

To weave together your own happiness

And mine

And the refrain to him will

Always be

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you 

This Blog is Changing to WordPress....

Dear Everyone,

Google is closing down their blog space,

so I am moving to Wordpress.

The new location is:

https://gwenmcclellan.wordpress.com

I hope you are all doing what we like to say 'well enough' !

I am always on Facebook, under Gwen McClellan, Words and Pictures.
                                               and Gwen McClellan, Creativity

It has been the loveliest thing being here, with all of your comments and
thoughts, as we all wander along in our lives. Really.

My best wishes for you all, each and every day.

Take good care,

Gwen

3.24.18 Birth, Death

I have a feeling that when we live in villages, with the evidence of birth and death all around us, the immediacy of what is grace becomes clearer.

3.23.18 Life. Takes your breath away.

3.23.18 My boyo

down by the river

3.22.18 Oh my queen

Oh, my diaphanous
forest queen – comes our
child song of smooth branch
refrain of Luminous mother tree

3.21.18 Precluding Surprises

I was talking the other day with someone , about the future. About aging, about the unexpected, about our different styles and choices we each select, to deal with this.

They were saying that they became so anxious just considering it, and preferred perhaps to simply live well, and trust in their capacity to deal, as life happened. 

I listened and applauded their trust in their own processes.

For myself, for perhaps thirty years, I have increasingly been figuring out how to approach planning and contemplations of this , in increments, to slowly desensitize anxiety, and slowly create workable realistic contingencies. 

This works well for me. And without independent or inherited wealth or a great big income, it seems imperative.

Simply because we are culturally awash with those who did not choose to try to plan what they could, or were at wits end to even have more choices.

It’s good to know if you don’t have kids or they won’t be predisposed to care for you much, or ensure you have access to choices that are important to you. 

If they don’t trust you and they don’t respect your preferences, this is good to know. 

To see who else would be willing and able to be your Durable Power of Attorney or executor, even if all you own is an old house and an old car. Or less. 

To know your wishes will be followed and respected is an important thing.

To accept that you might love that dish or that print or those books but they might get dumped after you kick off, so why not really enjoy them now. 

That if you can find homes for things ahead of time and document that, well, how nice.

As I said to a friend just the other day, we may be the only one who prizes our ceramic frog collection or our writings or our ancient tablecloths or our tool collection. So why not relish these things, knowing that this is enough.

It’s the same as learning that there very well might come a time when the only steward left who truly knows the remarkable expertise we developed or our life work... will be us.
And to confidently hold that knowing dear.

The idea of NOT learning to desensitize these things, in our ridiculously death and aging-phobic culture, seems to not portend the best possible experience . And if there’s one thing I would like to work around, it’s being unprepared and surprised big time, at a tough time of life. 

Why have to move at 80, instead of at 65?

Learning how tough things often are as we age gives me this vigor to truly relish my 65 year old strong vital legs ,and gets me carefully and persistently to the gym, to make that effort to really see what I can reach for , and for how long.

3.21.18 On and On

We were walking along the frozen dirt road and I was tossing balls out over the solid rutted fields and they were bouncing high and wide to his great delight and everything else that grieves me or saddens me or tears me or shakes slowly softened into each slow breath of pure fresh air until I smiled and thanked my stars for mindfulness and faith and was swiftly swept into just this moment right here and in this way was filled with the infinite grace of the day.

3.21.18 Red Lives and ice

3.20.18 The Observer Effect

There is this phenomena all species have known since the beginning of time, that, more recently, humans have labeled “ The Observer Effect”. 

If you are someone who is being observed, you are being changed by those who observe you. In our lives, often unbeknownst to us, there are so many ways we are profoundly impacted by those around us.

The interesting thing is, the more present we are, in this very moment, the more capable we are of digesting the thoughts and feelings that therefore come up, via simply being in the present moment, the more resilient and able we are, in the face of harm or influence of others. It just makes sense, but the reality of it is phenomenal.

3.20.18 Ah, The Music of The Spheres

Down by the farmers fields today, it all looked hum drum and normal and ordinary and nothing special. 

Until I looked again, and then truly looked . 
And there it was, the Music of the Spheres. 
Overhead and all over, the singing and swaying. 
Everywhere at home.

3.19.18 And Then He Cried

I had gone to him, to confide. To resurrect some sanity about it all.
I'd finished describing the whole unimaginable complicated agonizing deal, hoping he could manage the profoundly personal nature of the visit, of what I needed from him right now.

Poor guy. He turned  back to me , angry and grief stricken and ashamed.

He stood suddenly , slamming his fists upon the huge business table, til it shook. 
He stood quickly, unable to contain himself, and stormed about the room, tears in eyes. hands on hair.

 Slowly, he calmed down, sat down, took deep breaths. 
These lousy human things are of such an intimate emotional nature. Always.

So I sat, looking out the second floor window, into the early March morning from the beautiful office. Giving him a moment.

And then he said 
‘But I don’t understand how all this went down , how you all stayed intact.’ 

I shook my head. I looked out the window for awhile, again. Gathering myself up.
I said ‘ I don’t know. It's despicable. 

But I feel great about myself. 
I was just doing the best I could, always.
I’m all kinds of imperfect. That's ok. 
I have my integrity.
I’ve done everything I know, to love and love well.
I know I love well.
I've been devoted, and a good and faithful partner and parent and person. 
I don't think I'm even capable of lying, of sneaking around.
Of manipulating for fun and games, and targeting everyone, all of them clueless. They have no idea.

I just was trying to truly love ,and be honest always, to have integrity.
I’ve  messed up and and fessed up and tried hard always. 

I think that’s good enough.

I'm just not certain how my young ones and I 
will avoid being destroyed. by what was really going down. 

And no one, no one actually knows what was the reality, but us.

Because now? The evidence. Left, carelessly strewn all around, like so many dead bodies."

And then he cried.

3.18.18 Tromping About

Only last week we were sunk in snow, tromping about in the cold loveliness.
But all things change, and now it’s frozen dirt March road, wool socks with Birkenstocks. Scarves over the face, yeah. Gloves, of course. But over there on the horizon? The approach of silent Spring.

3.18.18 Can Bruise

A poem of mine , misplaced for 40 years, found now. Go figure.

What was once an image
has faded to the core
And wherein did kneel listlessness
can linger there no more

I have no longing for teeming lips and
words let go in air
Nor silver fingered promises
that stream in my love’s hair

But shall once more find way to embark
upon a mighty cruise
For love and thoughts and listlessness
can bruise, can bruise, can bruise

11.16.78

3.16.18 This Magic Moment

3.16.18 It's The Little Things

3.16.18 Darling

“Darling, I care about the suffering.”

Thich Nhat Hanh, to himself.

3.16.18 Well...?

“Who are you
if you no longer believe
anything is wrong?”

Tara Brach