Auspiciously August

Down the lanes of August—and the bees upon the wing,
All the world’s in color now, and all the song birds sing;
Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old.

Mother Nature’s brushes now with paints are dripping wet,
Gorgeous is her canvas with the tints we can’t forget;
Here’s a yellow wheat field—purple asters there,
Riotous the colors that she’s splashing everywhere.

Red the cheeks of apples and pink the peaches’ bloom,
Redolent the breezes with the sweetness of perfume;
Everything is beauty crowned by skies of clearest blue,
Mother Earth is at her best once more for me and you.

Down the lanes of August with her blossoms at our feet,
Rich with gold and scarlet, dripping wet with honey sweet.
Rich or poor, no matter, here are splendors spread
Down the lanes of August, for all who wish to tread.

Edgar Albert Best

The Turtle’s teachings are so beautiful. So very special. It teaches us that everything you are, everything you need, and everything you bring to the world is inside you, not external, and you carry it with you and are not limited to a place, space, or time.
– Eileen Anglin

Wild ducks and tomorrow both come without calling. _Proverb

Sitting under a tree in a park in the summer, listening to birds and squirrels chirping while reading a good book is priceless.
― Charmaine J. Forde

The Heron teaches us that sometimes it is not about chasing dreams, but standing still long enough to let them come to us.

One cloudy day I came across a large gathering of partygoers on what I have now renamed Gaggle Beach.

On a narrow side trail, I discovered an interesting sight. It resembles a nature-infused spiritual meeting place composed of large, round, moss-covered stones set side by side, with bits of wooden branches forming a semi-circle. Three rocks of varying sizes sit in the middle. You never know what you’ll find when you go off track and have a wander. Everything is a discovery, everything is new.

Postscript: The meaning of the title. Auspiciously: Doing something with signs of future success, good fortune, or a lucky beginning. August: Being grand, noble, and deeply respected or impressive.

Late last night there was a thunderstorm with heavy rain and lightning. The words I will use to describe it are…absolutely glorious. Unfortunately, the thunder was loud enough to chase our cat, Fausto, into hiding, but I assured him that all was well. Being able to watch the show over the ocean and mountains from a high floor was a great privilege. However, such performances carry danger. I have already heard of a new wildfire starting within minutes of lightning striking a mountainside. Several fires this season have caused declining air quality, major environmental losses, and hardship for nearby residents, and it’s been happening worldwide. The super El Niño has also created havoc in some areas. NYC, my beloved former home for many years, was very recently flooded. It was shocking to see the streets with such high levels of water. I experienced many things while living there, such as a full-force hurricane, major snowstorms, and 9/11, to name a few, but this was something new. It’s impossible to ignore climate change. As it’s been said, for every action there is a reaction, and this has never been truer than now. Yet despite all the challenges, I keep coming across news of positive work, of joyous accounts that indeed build hope for the earth, for a possible whole new world. The good you do will come back to you.

“There is hope in the resilience of nature, her ability to repair the wounds we have inflicted.” — Jane Goodall

“You can cut all the flowers, but you can’t keep spring from coming.” — Pablo Neruda 

Post #145 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

Remarkable Things

“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
― Rachel Carson

“How I go to the wood.

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone, I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”
― Mary Oliver

“Earth and sky, woods and fields, lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea, are excellent schoolmasters, and teach some of us more that what we could learn from books.” — John Lubbock

“If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence, we could rise up rooted, like trees.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

This is an old-growth tree that I often pass during my wanderings on the trails. I call it the bum tree. It’s quite provocative in its own unique way. A few times, I have seen it covered with leafy branches as if someone intended to hide it.

To me, this tree resembles a woman in profile with abundant hair. Perhaps a small hat?

“Joy in looking and comprehending is nature’s most beautiful gift.” — Albert Einstein.

“Turns out the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.” — Unknown

“Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Postscript: July is for flowers and butterflies; this is true, but it’s also for birds and mushrooms, for feathers on the trail, for fungi that poke through patches of verdant moss. It’s for discovery and wonder, for new memories, for the unexpected, and for pure joy. It’s for remarkable things. So let us stop, look, listen. And enjoy the silence.

Post #144 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

The first fourteen years of the cloutetcetera.wordpress.com blog photo essays have now been memorialized in a two-volume hardcover set.

A Change In the Weather

When summer time has come, and all
The world is in the magic thrall
Of perfumed airs that lull each sense
To fits of drowsy indolence;
When skies are deepest blue above,
And flow’rs aflush,—then most I love
To start, while early dews are damp,
And wend my way in woodland tramp
Where forests rustle, tree on tree,
And sing their silent songs to me;
Where pathways meet and pathways part,—
To walk with Nature heart by heart,
Till wearied out at last I lie
Where some sweet stream steals singing by
A mossy bank; where violets vie
In color with the summer sky,—
Or take my rod and line and hook,
And wander to some darkling brook,
Where all day long the willows dream,
And idly droop to kiss the stream,
And there to loll from morn till night—
Unheeding nibble, run, or bite—
Just for the joy of being there
And drinking in the summer air,
The summer sounds, and summer sights,
That set a restless mind to rights
When grief and pain and raging doubt
Of men and creeds have worn it out;
The birds’ song and the water’s drone,
The humming bee’s low monotone,
The murmur of the passing breeze,
And all the sounds akin to these…

-Paul Laurence Dunbar, excerpt from In Summer Time.

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” – John Lubbock

“Summer is coming!” the soft breezes whisper; “Summer is coming!” the glad birdies sing. Summer is coming—I hear her quick footsteps; Take your last look at the beautiful Spring.” Dora Goodale

A female wood duck in the park. I have never seen this particular blend of colours and find them quite exquisite, particularly since she appears to be camouflaged. I almost missed her.

Canada Geese grazing. The goslings are all different sizes now, but there are still a few small chicks to be seen. Every time I go wandering, there are always changes in the landscape; everything, even the foliage, grows so quickly. Perhaps it’s stopping and observing with a clear mind, not passing it all by, that makes it all seem so significant, so magical.

The other day I discovered this mirror reflecting light with leaves and a ceramic tile against the roots of an old-growth tree near the lagoon. It wasn’t there the day before, and the day after both the mirror and the tile had vanished. Another way of seeing things.

A Great Blue Heron at the lagoon with stillness and patience personified. Watching this majestic dinosaur was a life lesson in itself. Life suddenly slows down, the mind empties, and everything looks different.

I came across this memorial sundial. Alina…Somewhere Over The Rainbow.

I call this majestic beauty, a Western red Cedar, the Walkaround Tree, because a path has been worn around its trunk. This is the back of the tree. I can’t imagine how old it is, but the old-growth trees in the park range from 250 to over 1000 years old. The majority of the old-growth stands feature trees between 400 and 800 years of age. I often visit and place the palm of my hand on its bark. Oh, the secrets this tree could divulge. It’s both incredibly awe-inspiring and humbling, to say the least.

Postscript: Here we are at the beginning of a new season, crossing an invisible timeline into unknown territory. What are we taking with us from Spring? There is new hope and a feeling of enlightenment. Everyday life can be complicated, exhausting, stressful, and full of too much information, but it’s perfectly fine to switch off and choose our battles, to leave overwhelm behind and move on to a simpler, more authentic place. It’s okay to just say no. We can learn so much from nature about what real life actually looks like, about cycles of time, and balance. More importantly, we can find our meaningful places in it and just in time. There’s been a change in the weather.

Post #143 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

And Then It Begins…

It happens more often than not. Even after years of writing, I still find it challenging to get that first line out. My mind can go blank or start wandering around in circles, nowhere near where I want to go. I began this blog back in Manhattan in May, 2012, and it amazes me that fourteen years have passed since then, how much life has happened to get me here. Most of the other nonfiction writing I have done was educational, such as eBooks and course content for my past students and clients. Over the years, I have continually strayed far off my original path of fiction, but lately I have been forming an outline for a book of short stories. The hard part, once again, is writing that first line. And then the next. Sometimes I think that if I ever write this book, which certain people have urged me to do, it will be a miracle. A publisher once advised to stop thinking about the details and just get the words down; I could fix it later. This is valuable advice, but still easier said than done.

For now, the full life of my blog, from conception until March of this year, will be published with a company based in England as a two-volume hardcover set, with more volumes in the future as I keep it going. It’s basically a memorialization of sorts with my added photos. Since I basically write because I simply enjoy it, not for remuneration or fame of any sort, I am looking forward to reading these books and having them as a reminder of not only my own history, but that many things are possible, usually when we least expect them, no matter how we obsess and worry about things that haven’t even happened yet. In hindsight, overthinking about something can often blind us to what’s really been there all along, and most of the time, although perhaps different, it’s even better than we could have ever imagined.

So, despite everything, life keeps moving on in all its glory. May has been a particularly remarkable month this year. Within what seemed like only a few days, the trees and other flora have exploded into a massive display of leaves and blossoms. New life has begun once again. Roaming the trails has brought me to literal herds of goslings and ducklings, some tiny and some already quite large, like fluffy teenagers. The herons are still noisily nesting, but the adult dinosaurs can also be seen standing like elegant statues, fishing in the lagoon or along the beaches. I’ve even seen a few sitting in nearby trees. If you don’t look up, you wouldn’t even notice them. A few eagles have soared overhead and even landed low in a tree next to where I was sitting. I’ve also heard Barred Owls while in the woods. The seagulls often have a grown brown fledgling in tow, following them around while demanding to be fed with their constant loud chirping.

There are also crows, ravens, falcons, and pigeons, along with a vast number of little birds singing their own tunes and often skipping along the ground, not to mention the red-headed woodpeckers persistently knocking on the trunks of trees. In previous years, I have encountered young raccoons, sea otters, seals, rodents such as black, brown, and grey squirrels, and even a coyote pup curled up asleep. All incredibly beautiful and such a pleasure to behold, they are here to remind us of how life really works, of the cycle’s continuation and our place in it. They are all, both flora and fauna, remarkable examples presented to us daily.

A family of Canada Geese near the lagoon.

My friends, Mr. and Mrs. Duckington.

A field of flowers resembling a Claude Monet painting. They don’t last for very long, but their presence is magical in the sunlight.

Great Blue Herons posing in the lagoon. They were strolling slowly through the water on opposite sides like models on a catwalk.

A proliferation of water lilies at Beaver Lake. The beavers have recently come back after a long absence, but I have yet to actually see one there.

Goslings on the march. Canada Geese are very attentive, protective, and nurturing parents. It’s such a joy to see them.

Multiple families often combine their young into large communal groups called “gang broods” or “crèches”. I came across this group at the lagoon. They soon swam ashore and moved further into the park. I must admit that I followed them for a while to make sure that they didn’t get run over by any cars on the park drive. When I passed by later on, they had all gone elsewhere. I can only hope that they are all well. I have often herded a goose or two off the street. They tend to stand in the middle of a road and halt traffic. I’m obviously more worried about it than they are.

Postscript:  There are 6 Basic Lessons to Learn from Wildlife: Adaptability, cooperation, co-existence, rising from failures, sustainability, and the importance of rest. All the qualities that humans need to have a life well-lived. And yet many people believe that animals are stupid, nonsentient beings, are a nuisance at best, or meant to be eliminated at will. But who’s really the stupid one?

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.” — Albert Einstein

“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.” — Rachel Carson

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” — Anatole France

Post #142 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, former Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn

An Ode To April

“Animals are a gift from above for they truly define the words unconditional love.” — Heather Wolf

While I was out in the park recently, Mr. and Mrs. Duckington waddled up a trail and stopped in front of me. We had a brief chat about life, and then we went our separate ways. I learned something from this wise couple and look forward to seeing them again someday.

“A light exists in spring / Not present on the year / At any other period” — Emily Dickinson

“Trees are as close to immortality as the rest of us ever come.”― Karen Joy Fowler

“To sit in solitude, to think in solitude with only the music of the stream and the cedar to break the flow of silence, there lies the value of wilderness.” — John Muir

” Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.”_Gary Snyder

“No matter how organized your ducks are, life can turn in two seconds. So, you can’t keep on waiting. Because if you keep on waiting, it’s gone.”_Diem Brown

“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” — John Muir

“Flowers are the music of the ground from earth’s lips spoken without sound.” — Edwin Curran

Post Script: The other day, I found a Post-it note lying on the sidewalk. I happened to glance down, and there it was, so I picked it up. I recognized the printing from some notes I had come across last year. I still have no idea who the person is who generates these, but the message on this new one is loud and clear, and wholly appropriate to the times. Last week, I was walking along the seawall and stopped to gaze at Mount Baker, looking solidly majestic and white in the distance behind me. A woman who was walking in the opposite direction, right in my path, stopped, pointed to the mountain, and asked why nobody was looking at it. It was true. They were on their phones, running, cycling, or having loud conversations with companions. All well and good, but her point was valid. Why weren’t people stopping to look around them? We sometimes really don’t know what we’re missing until it’s gone.

Post #141 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn

An Epiphany Of Sorts

Spring has officially arrived in the northern hemisphere, and with everything that has been going on in the world, March has been a kind of magical mystery tour in itself. We have once again crossed over into a new season, and with it comes not only an awakening of flora and fauna but also a reawakening of the senses. Last week, an atmospheric river passed through the area, bringing heavy, flooding rain and lots of clouds. After staying in most of the time, the sun broke through over the past couple of days, and with it came a kind of clarity, a revised vision of my world, as if all of that rain had washed away a film from my life’s window. Suddenly, everything seems clearer, like a reinvention has taken place, and there’s an added dimension to what I see.

Perhaps it was the act of stepping back from direct human contact, living squarely in the moment, while being creative and finding reflective peace and quiet. All this while watching the world go by outside from my balcony. And there it was. I suppose that you could call it a light bulb moment, that sudden flash of realization, enlightenment, or inspiration. I always find it amazing how our life can be here, then in an instant, someplace else, someplace even better than before, without having to go anywhere. It’s been right here all the time.

A favourite corner in the woods where two paths intersect. It looks different every time I walk by, reminding me how life can suddenly shift from overcast to a bright burst of light, changing everything while exposing so much that had previously been unseen. It’s about standing still and paying attention.

The winds, the sea, and the moving tides are what they are. If there is wonder, beauty, and majesty in them, science will discover these qualities… If there is poetry in my book about the sea, it is not because I deliberately put it there, but because no one could write truthfully about the sea and leave out the poetry.
― Rachel Carson

How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks.

-Dorothy L. Sayers

I am going to try to pay attention to the spring. I am going to look around at all the flowers and look up at the hectic trees. I am going to close my eyes and listen.

-Anne Lamott

Flower god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful,
Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles,
Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed, and still to my
Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer,
Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant;
Spring, flower-planter in meadows,
Child-conductor in willowy
Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies, and crocuses:
Here, that child from his heart drinks of eternity:
O child, happy are children!

-Robert Louis Stevenson

I cannot be awake, for nothing looks to me as it did before, or else I am awake for the first time, and all before has been a mean sleep.
― Walt Whitman

The epiphany was simply tucked away for consideration after we were back on campus. Sometimes a revelation comes with a flash of heavenly light and a booming voice – and sometimes it is jotted in a sun-bleached spiral notebook.
― Jeffrey A. Lockwood

Post Script: Light bulb moments can happen anywhere at any time. For example, I have had them on busy streets in very large cities or while brushing my teeth, during a conversation with a stranger, or while hearing a certain piece of music. There are also moments when we realize in a flash that what we thought was solid or forever isn’t. The thing is to recognize what these flashes are telling us and not ignore the messages. There may be times when we labour under indecision or have a chronic vague feeling of discontent when suddenly the solution comes flapping in and lands on our heads, seemingly from out of nowhere. They can be major life changers, these aha moments, and instantly give us another view, another direction in our lives. It’s indeed an epiphany of sorts.

Post #140 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

London Calling

I have often thought that February is like a bridge from Winter into Spring, with the days gradually stretching out a bit longer, and buds suddenly bursting out where it seems that a few moments before there was nothing but a bare patch of earth or a spindly branch. Of course, it can depend on where you are. Regardless, my past episodes of wandering often break through my thoughts at this time. Perhaps it’s simply a change in the air, but these moments often conjure a feeling of being there all over again.

I have been on many solo journeys in my life, preferably without maps to guide me. I generally try to book accommodations that include a small kitchen so I can shop for food at local stores and prepare my own meals. I suppose my visits are all about random discovery off the beaten path during the quieter seasons. I find seeing how other people live and how the city is planned an enlightening and fulfilling experience in itself. After growing up and later moving about as a younger adult on my own in the vast nature of British Columbia and other parts of Canada, I became a devoted urbanite, perhaps after living for years in Manhattan and during shorter stays in other international cities.

One of my favourites for exploring is definitely London. I’ve been there a few times over the past decades and always marvel at the character and history around every corner, which never seem to change. The following photos are a few of hundreds from my travel archives, and when I look at them, I do so with a touch of wistful melancholy as I remember each place in time, who I was, and what I was doing. We can meet up with ourselves again, in a different scenario, roaming down any street. It’s true that wherever we go, there we are.

In London Town

It is not here I best enjoy
The pleasure, that can never cloy,
Of idly roaming London town,
Where such familiar names look down
Upon the wanderer in the street,
From Cheapside, Cornhill, and the Fleet.
The noisy, pushing, bustling crowd,
The din of trade and traffic loud,
Confuse the too bewildered sense
And drive a thousand memories hence.
When in the quiet town once more,
Where not a murmur of the roar
Of busy trade or loud displays
Disturb the quiet of her ways,
Backward my soul will turn and then
Will walk these London streets again;
While wits and poets of years gone by,
Who now in dim cathedrals lie,
Will meet me where their memories make
The places dearer for their sake —
And with their shades perchance a few
Of living forms shall mingle too.
So, often when the daylight dies,
Shall I at evcning close my eyes
To walk again the Strand, the Fleet,
And every dear familiar street,
And, undisturbed by din or roar,
Find every house and nook once more.
My London, which I carry west,
Is peopled only by her best.

_Walter Learned



Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner / That I love London so / Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner / That I think of her wherever I go / I get a funny feeling inside of me / Just walking up and down / Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner / That I love London town. -Hubert Gregg

Post Script: I might add that I am a voracious Anglophile, even though my DNA shows no trace of any connection, and absolutely adore British crime series and other genres on apps such as Britbox and Acorn. British authors, past and present, also stand out for me. And then there’s the music, of course. When I would visit, I could be totally happy just standing on a street corner while watching the world go by, breathing the air in, and hearing an assortment of accents. Wandering aimlessly was pure bliss for me. Also, being a daytripper by train to other areas close by was definitely a plus. I do find it rather surprising that my photos didn’t capture the crowds of Londoners bustling about their day, but they were indeed there. It seems like a hundred years ago now, but the first agency I was with as a model was Bookings One, based in London. Long gone now, I suppose, but never forgotten, although in retrospect that life seems to have belonged to someone else. But fortunately, it didn’t. And with all of the remarkable and often unexpected reminders, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s like reviewing old film clips and recognizing yourself in them, the rush of pleasure that surprise can bring. We don’t remember days, we remember moments. And more is felt than seen.

Post #139 with photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

Out Of The Fog

So, here we are at the beginning of a new year and more than halfway through a decade that has brought significant and perhaps immense change to the world. It’s constant and can seem irrational, as well as maddening and frightening at times, but it’s also necessary in many obvious ways. It’s prime time for another revolution of sorts, along with a reinvention of how we envision our lives and ourselves in them, particularly in relation to other people’s. Change is indeed inevitable, but we first must change ourselves to change the world. And therein lies the challenge. With many people obsessed with power and money, this pursuit can lead to materialism, inequality, and a neglect of inner fulfillment, with some viewing it as a core human drive for security. An endless cycle of accumulation replaces deeper sources of happiness, often fueled by social media and peer pressure and control, while others see it as a detrimental societal flaw. Systems like capitalism and media promote the idea that self-worth is tied to financial success and possessions, fostering materialism and greed.

It might be interesting to note that in numerology, 2026 is a Universal Year One, signifying a major reset, fresh starts, leadership, and new beginnings, calculated by adding its digits. This energy encourages bold actions, innovation, individuality, and planting seeds for future growth, acting as a fresh chapter after the endings of 2025 (a Year 9). It’s a time for taking initiative, embracing change, and building a new path. We are also soon to enter The Year of the Fire Horse (starting Feb 17, 2026, in the Chinese Zodiac), which aligns with this energy, bringing passion, speed, and determination to new beginnings.

Faith is like a radar that sees through the fog, the reality of things at a distance that the human eye cannot see. –Corrie ten Boom

This is a good time to reintroduce adaptation into the mix. The way people respond to great change depends on where they live, what kind of lives they’ve lived, and what challenges they’ve faced. We all have a unique story to tell, and emotional intelligence is now more important than ever in how we hear and interpret them. Some people embrace controversial change, while others actively avoid it. Some people base their assessment of others on their own values and beliefs, the lives they chose, and simply dismiss someone different as odd or not up to their standards. To them, there is a formula to follow, and if someone forges their own unconventional path in the world, it can be a daunting concept to accept. It takes courage to follow the path less chosen, and not everyone has the fortitude to do so.

Moving alone into the unknown, into the pure uncertainty of it, can instill a sense of fear and anxiety, but we can argue that while a more contained life can produce the same emotions, moving on our own can offer unimaginable experiences, with the ability to constantly adapt and create new environments. It can be a life of great possibilities and discoveries, with the ability to transition freely from one to the next without any excess baggage. Conforming to societal norms, while in some respects positive for some, can ultimately be a problem in itself. It can suppress individuality, lead to following unjust norms, or cause individuals to act against their own values to fit in. Simply put, our authentic selves can be suppressed.

I believe that one defines oneself by reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. To cut yourself out of stone. –Henry Rollins

The reinvention of daily life means marching off the edge of our maps. –Bob Black

It’s been unusually foggy around here for a few days, and it lends a mysterious quality to the landscape, especially when out walking. Fog horns are sounding at regular intervals, and the mist rolls in and out, revealing bright sunlight at times. I can’t always see the usual things, but I know that they are still there. It seems a metaphor for all that’s been happening, for all the changes that have been occurring, and for all the changes that need to happen. Ghandi said, You must be the change you wish to see in the world. It was true then, and it’s even truer now. One day, we will come out of this fog, and what a glorious time it will be.

Post #138 with January photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

Reflections At Year’s End: A Bit Of Now With Some Then

So, here we are at the end of the year, and I am left wondering how it has gone by so quickly. I recently came across this Ferris Wheel while walking downtown and thought it was an apt representation of life lately. We can get stuck going round and round with all that’s been happening, but all we have to do is get off, and it’s a whole new scene. It’s the getting on that can be challenging. There was quite a lineup.

Remembering The Big Bad Boys of a Winter past. One of the gigantic squirrels in Madison Square Park, Manhattan.

A place to go to just stand still and breathe in the quiet. The woods have been both a solace and a guide throughout the year.

The beavers are back. I can usually walk across this wooden bridge, but now, due to a small dam, the rains have flooded the area, creating a lovely winter home for the birds.

Another use for a phone box. This was one of several floral exhibits around the city during two weeks in December.

Down at the beach after a recent heavy rainstorm. There is something magical about the iridescent light and the blue sky peering out from beneath the dark clouds.

Ducks resting by the lagoon. They’ve had a busy year, and lately, I watch them sleeping as they float together on the water, perhaps dreaming of Spring.

An Early Winter sunset from my window. The sky is different every night and changes very quickly as the light fades.

A few of nature’s gems collected during some walks. A framed leaf and a bowl of horse chestnuts, including small stones and tiny apples. Bear, as he is called, was a rescued dog toy that I found in the woods. After a bath and a few stitches, he is now part of our Holiday decorations with his very own snowflake. The photo is of my husband as a child, visiting Santa.

Postscript: There was a windstorm last Tuesday night that lasted into early Wednesday. I went out walking in the park yesterday and came across several downed trees along with many branches and hundreds of leaves scattered about. While navigating some deeper paths in the woods, I had to climb over trees blocking the trails. What I encountered was wholly unexpected yet strangely inspirational. It made me think about how fragile life is, yet how determined we are to keep going. Change can make everything look so different; it can happen at any moment, but it’s what we do with it that matters. Here we are with the opportunity to open another door while this one closes at the end of the year. Another gift of 365 brand new days will be arriving soon, and with it, another year of endless possibilities all ours for the taking.

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice. -T.S. Eliot

Post #137 with December photos & text by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.

Resonation

I often wake up before sunrise and get out of bed for a few minutes to look out of my balcony window. It’s a mystical time of the early morning before the clamber of humans begins, and I possibly see things that many people might miss. Things like the moon splashing its light on the walls, a man running down the middle of the street with a bright headlight on top of his head, someone sitting in solitude on a bench down on the corner, two suspicious-looking males checking out car doors in the alley, what looks like a raccoon roaming around, and other quite remarkable and often surprising sights. I like to think that they are all presented to me as secret messages or brain sparks that open up doors to possibility. It also reminds me to keep looking because you never know what you’ll find in only one brief moment. I can’t help but wonder what the people I see are thinking in their nocturnal episodes and how they are influenced by them. This I will never know except that my own perspectives are ignited, shaped, and even changed by these unexpected experiences. But daylight can also reveal its own resonations in intriguing and compelling ways.

A Figurative Meaning Of Resonation:

• Having personal or emotional meaning: A message or idea resonates with someone when it affects them or appeals to them on a personal or emotional level because it has particular meaning or importance to them.
• Affecting or appealing to someone: This can also be used to describe something that “strikes a chord” with you, or feels true to you.

Back at the beginning of last Spring, I found a Post-it note on an electric pole by a crosswalk. Someone had printed a message on it. ‘You will be okay.’ These simple words resonated with me to the point where they became my daily mantra, and they have literally changed my view from the bridge. I will always be grateful to the unknown person who shared that message.

Outdoors, we are confronted everywhere with wonders; we see that the miraculous is not extraordinary, but the common mode of existence. -Wendell Berry

It’s going to come out all right—do you know? The sun, the birds, the grass—they know. They get along—and we’ll get along. -Carl Sandburg

From the old wood came an ancient melancholy, somehow soothing to her, better than the harsh insentience of the outer world. She liked the inwardness of the remnant of forest, the unspeaking reticence of the old trees. They seemed a very power of silence, and yet a vital presence. 

-D.H. Lawrence

I’m addicted to the entire planet. I don’t want to leave it. I want to get down into it. I want to say hello. On the beach, I could have stopped all day long and looked at those damned shells, looked for all the messages that come not in bottles but in shells…

-John McPhee

Postscript: We are all products of our individual experiences in life and can’t be expected to respond to anything in the same way, but however we respond, whatever we feel is wholly our own impression and can have profound effects on how we view our lives from one moment to the next. We are emotionally wired to our mindsets and greatly influenced by stimuli, such as what we see and hear. Writing this post has brought to mind some memorable moments that were wholly unexpected yet significant. One episode in particular that stands out for me is during a visit to the Vancouver Museum back in 2015. The planetarium is connected, and I happened to wander into a small area, which was dimly lit and empty of people. Suddenly, a large screen lit up in front of me, and a video began to play with images of outer space. It was then that the magic happened. The voice of Carl Sagan reciting his ‘Pale Blue Dot’ narrative shot right through me. It was a purely emotional experience, as beautiful as it was amazing, to be standing in the dark, alone, and experiencing those moments was almost otherworldly. It brought tears to my eyes. And that, in my opinion, is resonation at its finest.

Post #136 with November photos & text with added quotes by Jude Gorgopa, Reinvention Consultant and the Founder of Clout Et Cetera and The Fundamentals of Clout. Connect on BlueSky & LinkedIn.