Day 13: January Mindful Writing Challenge

Clouds by The AucitronLapse

Sometimes I can’t recall
What I have done and
What I have yet to do.

J.K. Durick


We’re on the thirteenth day of the January Mindful Writing Challenge – please post your small stone in the comments below. If you’re not already signed up, our 31 Days of Waking Up daily email package was designed to accompany you during this (or any) month of mindful writing. Keep writing!

Clouds by The Aucitron

Clouds by The Aucitron

Comments & replies

74 thoughts on “Day 13: January Mindful Writing Challenge

  1. Kellie Edwards

    You ask what I think of boldness. We often think of big deeds. Great risks. Volume. How about moving forward with courage and determination? Integrity with intention in small ways as well. Having the boldness to act on good intentions despite fear of failure or judgement by others or ourselves. Acting with kindness when others turn away. Forgiving and letting go of a hurt or resentment. Loving ourselves enough to live true to values that make us a force for peace in the world and making the world a better place. A bold legacy. One act at a time.

  2. De Jackson

    Stony Ground

    My elbows fit against
    this table just right,
    and writing is fighting
    so let’s jab tonight:

    These silver-lined page clouds
    are a wonder to see,
    but my keys are black thrones
    holding lettered anarchy.

  3. Brinda


    January is a month
    that has its ways sway
    as we take each breath
    sometimes catching us
    unawares with pints of tears
    sometimes indifferent
    and heart set into stone
    or marble or whatever
    sometimes dancing
    to the tunes of last year’s
    successes and often,
    with apprehension
    and anxious doubts
    but with determination
    hold onto the list of
    resolutions to feel secure
    and grounded in action
    to be taken, in order
    to advance except for
    indulgence on the sofa
    from time to time


  4. Steve

    my teeth stained
    like the coffee pot lid that
    inspires them

    gritty to elbows down
    now typing a hard rain
    and working
    oh working to get

    the stuff done

  5. Linda

    Two magpies, parent and offspring, serenade us from the Spotted Gums next to our home. As good a musical duo as you’d get anywhere!

  6. Daphne Radenhurst

    When I am being tossed about by the world,
    I feel I am slipping and sliding
    Over the edge.
    My only refuge is the mantra.
    I hold on to it –

  7. Litsa

    Click! Like a switch my mind groans and opens it’s doors.

    This thought and that start crowding in, no order, chaos threatens to ensue.

    A gentle stop. The crowding stops.
    A gentle hush. My mind quietens.
    All turn to feel the downy softness of pillow, the gentle weight of duvet.
    All revel in the comfort of moment.

  8. Satya Robyn Post author

    birdsong slides through the cracked-open window. the radiator accompaniment is the bass-drone of water pushed through pipes. a train crashes through, leaving a trail of stillness.

    how are you all getting on? it doesn’t matter if you’ve missed a few days… just start again today.

  9. beverley

    It lies in a place where a spoon shouldn’t be like the relic of a saint on a picnic cloth. Ordinary, no decoration or design, hollow face down, full of questions and pointing.

  10. Lizzie Carver

    Grey cloud, deep and heavy; birch twigs glowing orange in sudden sun that throws a rainbow up and away, away.

  11. JulesPaige

    a tanka:
    apprehension builds
    plans might ease ones fears
    preparation for travel
    alone, without you…me
    just another passenger…
    tomorrow – all by myself

  12. julie daigle

    teal blue and salmon pink striping my car in sunrise colors, mechanical lines of the car transforming into organic sky in a sudden about-face at some distant, optimistic point

  13. Patricia

    A cloud of birds
    dancing and swirling
    under an early,
    almost full moon.

    I watch and see
    the magic.

  14. John S Oliver

    What is love?

    “What is love?”, is perhaps the shortest question with the most possible answers.

    Many individuals and experts have offered their answers directly and indirectly.
    Consider poets, novelists, screen writers, teachers, professors, clergy, journalists, etc.

    The search for love has motivated people.
    The presence and absence of love has shaped lives.
    Courtship and marriage are laboratories where experiments in love are conducted.

    My favorite kind of love is the love of mothers.

    It seems that romantic love is volatile, illusive and unstable.

    I wish there was more support and understanding of the value for friendship love.

    In my opinion the surest way to experience love is to own and enjoy the right dog.

    The love and devotion of service dogs inspires me.

  15. SM Jenkin

    The circle is squared; thick
    brown rectangular trapping
    static lines. The red line
    pauses; an
    eternity for each second.
    Parallel bars lined in thick
    black ink rest on the number
    three. The meaning crushed
    beneath the weight
    of waiting
    Straight lines;
    seldom straight forward.

  16. Nicole

    Sometimes it’s hard to find the words I want to find…
    Sometimes I know I am loosing (just a bit) my mind
    That’s when I stop and pray
    And words come back to stay…
    But for how long ?

  17. Dave Conley

    Old hospital boarded up
    Old house with tree growing out of window
    Old school now a community centre
    Old factory now a cash & carry
    Old hotel now old peoples home
    Old pub now coffee house
    Old man s life rebuilt for his kin

  18. Lindy Fly

    Noon Monday 1-13-14
    Laura’s Picture – Granddaughter and Friend
    So new they look old,
    friends before birth – two weeks,
    2 babes arms open,
    hands up, fingers curled,
    at ease
    or in surrender to life?
    Their sweet lips are straight,
    slightly somber,
    as though withholding judgment.

  19. Hajra

    Have you ever seen an iceberg in the sky?
    It’s a cloud resembling an ice-formation
    And when the setting sunrays touch it…
    It becomes illuminated…
    Just like a crystal…

  20. julie daigle

    the susurrous sounds of a heart mending, a indiscriminate samurai murmur that cleaves gangrenous flesh and breaks living bone in its thunderous hush.

  21. Catriona

    Shimmering silver train tracks slink on for miles
    Like gossamer snail trails
    Gliding into the night.

  22. Sharon Black

    The phone rings: ‘Get out
    on the terrace – the light!’ you say.
    In my nightshirt, I pull on wellies,
    fumble down the steps
    to the overgrown terrace
    that looks along the field.
    A single swatch of sun
    buffs the brow of the hill
    we call The Sleeping Buddha;
    one eyebrow lit – as if,
    believing himself alone, he is
    surprised to see me standing there.

  23. Nonnie

    Never too old to learn…
    Eucharist is Greek for Thanksgiving!
    so I give thanks for the Eucharist,
    our Lord’s
    Body and Blood, given for our salvation.

  24. larry p

    “Numa, numa”:
    toddler speak for food,
    more generally for cookie.
    Proffered animal cookie
    inspected at close quarters
    and with great care.
    Then, prior to chomping,
    he announces, “Baa, baa”.

  25. Paul L. White

    And so the leaves of Tension fall
    As day by day I take mine ease
    (But only when I can forestall
    A “duty’s” task, not when I please).
    And thus the things of life do hum
    In forward, gaining, righteous bliss,
    While I a calmer man become,
    Avoiding Worry’s Bark and Hiss.

  26. sue

    January 13, 2014


    open the faucet
    tiny dribbles
    then sucking air,
    the pipes are dry.


    small, repetitive, insistent sound:
    tick, tick?
    tap, tap?
    drip, drip?
    search reveals
    spreading puddles
    from the water cooler.

    January 13, 2014

  27. Laurie granieri

    Reporter squawking on the car radio, promising that “other shoes will drop” in this scandal, 8 o’ clock Monday morning, and the sky forgets to pout. This sun anoints my office building.

    1. Kathy Nguyen

      punching bag . . .
      how is it that you are
      filling the hollowness
      inside of me?

      Repost. Odd, I guess my keyboard must have deleted a bit of my words here!!

  28. Sherilee

    The day ends with hands wrapped warm
    around a mug of cocoa.
    Heart wrapped tight
    around a hurting child.
    Home wrapped quietly
    around us all,
    Easing us all into the dark night
    To wake, a little healed.

  29. De Jackson

    Ooops. I see I posted yesterday’s stone here. Sorry. 😉 Ya’ll are a day ahead of me.

    Here’s today’s:

    one small cold stone

    i hold it deep; keep
    it too close to my chest.
    can’t seem to sleep, or iron
    out the wrinkles of this furrowed brow,
    this what and how and when and why.
    perhaps i’ll toss it in, breathe wish and try.

  30. christine

    Click-click, a metal zipper taps against the drier drum.

    Click-click, the house birds have come back to reclaim

    their timeshare above my window.

    A fledgling creature clicks and mewls from the upper branches of a tree

    outside my window.

    A crow creaks a greasy call across the street.

    The whoosh of tires on asphalt, wind parted by metal hulks.

    The cool swish of air on the in-breath, the warm puff on the out-breath.

    Drawing air up to clavicles, I hear the click-click

    of spines expanding along my upper back.

    A thin click as lips part then close.

    The muffled click of a wooden bead as a mala passes through my fingers.

  31. Carol A. Stephen

    Jan. 13, 2014

    ..Be. And know as well the need to NOT be:
    let that ground of all that changes
    bring you to completion now. –Rainer Maria Rilke

    Here is the difficult thing.
    To know that death is coming,
    to balance knowing with
    living fully in the present.

    To connect with now,
    to leave the past behind.
    To know that life is lived
    only in the present, to enjoy
    each moment that we are.


  32. Lindy Fly

    When, at what age,
    did I stop loving to slid on ice?
    Tentatively stepping
    old lady
    across street.

  33. NanLeah

    Stalking Mindful-fish

    Sometimes writing Small Stones is like stalking fish. Mindfulness a virtue.

  34. Nina


    I watch her growing older
    and forget that I am also
    Inner vision paused
    on twenties.
    No portrait in my attic.

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