Today we’re on a journey to explore what makes us feel cozy. Here’s how some of my writer friends responded:
I love how these writers incorporated the varied senses into their descriptions of cozy—touch, taste, smell, vision and hearing. Oops, maybe we missed hearing, unless Lynne Heinzmann reads aloud to her dog, Frank. We’ll have to ask her to do that in our next video series!
My cozy excerpt: “In the sting of January, I put on my navy blue knee-length, cashmere sweater. I zip it up to my chin and stuff the pockets with Kleenex.”
See if you can incorporate several senses into your exploration of “cozy” today.
Your Turn to Share what makes your cozy.
Yes, sharing is optional, but we’d love to hear from you—a paragraph or two, a phrase, a word—anything goes.
Share what makes your cozy. Pick a favorite phrase or paragraph from your journal so we get to experience it deep in our bones, the way you experience it.
Getting Cozy
Wafts of pungent ginger tea float
over the Best Mimi Ever mug,
the mini iPad with The Dutch House
peeking from behind
the screen that crazed
when toddler Isla dropped it,
just because
on a hard hearted tile floor.
Nestled between a fluffy duvet
and two familiar pillows,
I sip and slip into a reading reverie
Gratefully surrendering this day
Such a cozy poem, Mary Ann! Did you mean screen that “cracked”? I can fix the word for you if that’s what you meant…
Oh, one more thing Mary Ann – in regards to your poem’s reference to Dutch House. I just finished reading a delightful book called, “The Dutch House” and I was in Galilee today, near George’s restaurant and I passed the abandoned Dutch Inn, where I spent my honeymoon night in 1981, which brought up memories, though we divorced in 1988. More synchro’s!
Deborah- that’s something! One more for you-I used to work at the Dutch Inn when I was in high school as a hostess in the dining room. Do you remember the indoor tropical pool? It was a little sad to witness its decline over the years. Somehow I think our paths will cross again!
I love it Mary Ann – I do remember the tropical pool, which I thought unusual, as it was surrounded by ocean and a short walk to Salty Brian’s beach! So sad.
I nearly wrote a poem Mary Ann, then I chickened out because I am not a poet. And, I nearly wrote about a cup of tea at the end of the day. Synchronicity, I’d say. Maybe I’ll compose a poem before this program ends.
Deborah, who told you you’re not a poet? Your writing is poetic! Have fun and experiment. No one is “not a poet.”
OK – I hear you and will give it a go…
Day 17 – Cozy Up – Prompt – Lying in the Sun
What I noticed about all my prompts is the unconscious inclusion of the word warmth – a warm bath, a cup of hot tea, sitting around an outdoor fire and the warmth created when sharing meals, dancing and group activities with others. I begin my prompts with – enclosed in a blanket, quietly sequestered away indoors and I end my prompts with lying in the Sun, fully exposed to the elements outside. I welcome the heat of the Sun penetrating deeply into the marrow of my bones. With my eyes closed, I hear the buzzing of the bees, the songs of bird calls and feel the the breeze softly moving across my skin. I feel cocooned by the envelope of nature soothing my soul and wonder why many people are afraid of the Sun, as I believe the Sun promotes growth, rather than destroys.
Reading what you wrote makes me want to curl up in the sun right now! So lucky we have our imagination when it gets cold!
OK – I hear you and will give it a go…
Oh, Deborah, I hear you! I feel like I am also not a poet. But I had already decided to try a poem, because it’s my journal and I can try anything, right? And I have seen how you all use such beautiful imagery, while I feel like more of a prose pony. So I tried today. Unfortunately (or maybe not, since it’s how I am feeling) my cozy prompt took a bit of a sad turn…
A Hand to Hold
When I am cold, you are there
A hand to hold
When I am afraid, you are there
A hand to hold
When I am happy and dancing with joy, you are there
A hand to hold
Forever, it seems, you have been there
My comfort, my rock, my anchor, my foil
Now all that is threatened
A shadow hangs over you and blankets me, too
It chills my heart
I try to hide it, but I am frozen with fear
What will I do if
There is no hand to hold
Oh, my love, heart of my heart
I feel your silent quaking
Your fear is greater than mine
I have so little to offer
But this I swear
When you are cold, I will be there
A hand to hold
When you are afraid, I will be there
A hand to hold
And when you are once again happy and dancing with joy,
Oh, my love, I will be there
A hand to hold
Maureen, I find this so moving. No need to apologize for sadness. When we welcome the emotion and allow it to be, it comes and goes. It’s when we don’t allow ourselves to express or experience it that it becomes a problem. A sad poem invites the reader to feel empathy, to perhaps do some grieving of their own if that is up for them, to be moved and inspired. And there is so much beauty in this poem, too. I find it cathartic. It does sound like you may be going through a very challenging time and I send warmth to you.
Maureen, your poem took my breath away. This is a ruby, a jewel that evokes so many pulsing emotions but it sends throughout a clear message of everlasting love. Bravo!
I cried Maureen – so poignant
Thank you.