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Listen to your heart. It knows all things, because it came from the Soul of the World, and it will one day return there.

~Paulo Coelho

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Dear Reader,

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This past bleak and icy Monday, I woke from a deep dream state, ready for the new day. Allowing my memory to guide me, I refrained from lighting the path. Daylight comes soon enough, and so I cherish each dark hour of morning, abundant with potential. Although it's the heart of my home, the kitchen is the last room where the heat arrives. I am quite certain my breath is visible. Rubbing my hands together to bring warmth to already chilled fingers, I lean across the counter, just meeting the switch on the kettle. Filled the previous night, it comes to life with a gentle hiss and the promise of a warm mug of tea.
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In the space of waiting, I peel and chop a grapefruit, the air quickly filled with its bright, refreshing scent. Boil complete, I fill my mug. While it steeps, I gather a bowl from the collection that lives on the window ledge. Not one at random, but precisely the smallest of a treasured set of three.

Placing it on the scale, I pause in thought before blending the sponge for this evening's bread.
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I do love a useful bowl. And a bowl with a story is even better. This particular trio caught my eye in 1998 on a bargain table in a ceramic factory shop in Poland. Strikingly plain alongside the colorful patterns typical of the region, each in this cream-colored set is adorned only with a single cobalt band. Their circumference is a mere degree or two off center, and it was this perfect imperfection that called my name. I had already overspent my budget that day, but those bowls belonged in my kitchen. Wrapping them in my arms, I made my way to the desk to pay while my travel companions packed up the van. By the sight of the overloaded trunk, it seemed I would be holding them for the long journey home.

Since that day, I have hand-carried this set from home to home in Germany, packed them with utmost care for a cross-Atlantic transit to Texas, and more recently, secured them for their extensive transit to New England. Their pre-Euro cost was minimal, but their value and the memories they hold are priceless. If these bowls could talk, they would tell the tale of one wild and crazy 24-hour trip to Poland with the queen of spontaneity and outlandish ideas, Peggy Carrier.

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Although she had written in advance of her plans to catch the overnight ferry, the sight of her standing at my door, in Kaiserslautern, Germany, still caught me by surprise. Were we really going to do this? It seemed so. Her well-orchestrated plan placed me in the navigator's seat, two mutual friends in the next row, leaving the entire last row and trunk for our pottery stash. The Polish border town of Boleslawiec was our destination with a morning arrival if we hit the road soon. While Peggy refreshed herself with a quick snack and tea, I put together some essentials to get me through our travels and one short but intense shopping spree. Before long, our companions collected, and we were headed east. For the next eight hours, songs and truth-telling filled Peggy’s family van while we took turns driving, laughing, and crying the hours away.

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Today, more than a quarter of a century later, this bowl, held between my palms, still vibrates with that joy. As I mix in the sourdough starter, flour, and water, I marvel at what could have been a missed opportunity. You see, it wasn’t about the pottery, although at the time I thought it was. Instead, it was a pivotal moment when I began to recognize the value of responding to my heart's desire and saying yes even when my logical mind said no. It will forever remain a poignant memory because you see, this whimsical adventure with Peggy would actually be our last. Just a short eighteen months later, breast cancer returned, she would pass in her sleep.

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I often wonder how memories pick their moments to surface, this one arriving just days before the new year. Maybe it was the fact that I had indeed been considering ways to be more consciously aware of my heart's voice, or maybe it was just time to remember. Even decades after that turning point in my life, I know there are still areas where my mind still wins over my heart. The yeses certainly won't always be to mega-adventures; micro yeses are just as meaningful. Maybe your yes will be to putting work on a brief pause and heading out to walk through a fresh blanket of snow, making yourself a cup of hot cocoa, or tuning into your favorite soundtrack while cooking. Whatever the shape or form, I am vowing now to do my best in 2026 to listen with my whole heart and respond. Won’t you consider joining me to do the same?

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Until next week,

Join us on Monday, 19 January!

All live participants will receive a complimentary copy of this gorgeous journal calendar.

Questions? Just email me.

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Sun Transits 30 December to 9 January

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Capricorn Season

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