The eye of the river ice, following me on my walk. The air is fresh, cold, invigorating, and the sky is blue, open, wide. My day is framed by writing groups: one in person, Wednesday morning writers, one at the end of the day, online. I’m enriched in the power of women’s voices, truth and beauty being expressed, and the way we listen so deeply to each other’s experience. In the Wednesday morning group we share the gifts we brought for the name of the writer we secretly chose. This is our ritual of giving to honor each other’s writing lives. The writing before the gift giving, after the meditation was deep, profoundly moving. The group has evolved to such a deep level of trust, we drop in quickly, to truth, beauty, the happiness and the hurt, the writing from the depths of experience. I look around, and I feel a profound sense of satisfaction and gratitude: What a bubbling of friendship and belonging. Every woman wants to be here where she honors her creative life in community. Tonight, online, also, support and deep listening, attention to art, to life, to craft, to risk taking. My day is consumed with giving coaching, encouragement to writers - all kinds. I edit a term paper for my daughter about expressive arts healing; I edit and comment on a long essay about consumerism for a friend. I coach another friend on a creative block she’s encountering, and how to break through. I’m living the life and doing the work I’m meant to do, and I’m grateful. Before my evening group, the house is quiet and empty and I’m reminded of, years ago, when my family of small children and husband would be at home and I’d be at my counseling practice in the early evening, waiting for a client, perhaps with a few minutes to spare, and I would be in my space, appreciating having my room all to myself: my place of work, tending to my own needs for a moment. Tonight I called to the dogs and took the flashlight and stepped out into the evening lit by a quarter moon. And we walked to the river and back, crunching along, breaking the quiet, under the stars, my heart beating with peace and happiness for the art of creation. This river feeds my creative life every day: today, two river images from my daily walks were published in a journal, and I saw them, elevated, living a life of being seen beyond me and my eye.