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The Far Beyond--December 2010
Be Absorbed—November 2010 Rustle, rustle, crunch A picture of Ben, my one year old grandson comes to my mind’s eye. Sitting down on the soft leaves covering the sunny path through the woods behind my home yesterday, I noticed he was entranced by this new environment…completely absorbed…leaves…hmmm. After several long moments, he reached down and picked one up…held it…turned it over and looked a while longer. I was captivated by his attention to this stiff brown oak leaf. More time passed and his other hand came up, grabbed one of the lobes on the leaf, bent it, bent it again and…CRACK…it broke into two pieces. “Amazing”, said Ben’s delight! It occurs to me that The Artist of creation has an equally fascinating path laid out for me and you every day in every moment as we remember we are part of this glorious outdoor collage. I am as blessed as Ben, but often forget to notice. He doesn’t appear to have forgotten to be in a state of wonderment in his attention to each moment…a tiny contemplative. I quietly ask The Artist to keep reminding me.
Preparing for Stillness--October 2010 Prune, pull, plant, scramble An experience of preparing for stillness: Grab your jacket and journal and crayons as you wander outside for a fall walk about. Survey the landscape for ways it has changed over the summer months and ways it needs to be changed before winter. Let your mind drift to your own life and any pruning or planting that needs to be done in your head or heart. Write about it, draw about it and consider ways these changes might become a reality in your life. Do what you feel called to and then rest and wait! It’s Not Easy Staying Green—September 2010
Guarding My Heart--August 2010
Reflecting more on guarding my heart, I consider the wisdom of the vulnerable opening of the spiderwort flower for one day and then closing…resting…with another opening the next day. I want to be aware of how I function best…allowing radiance in my life as one flower opens at a time. I gently enter each area of life awake to The Artist and what I personally am created for and called to. For example, swimming is the gentle stretching exercise that calls to me. I enjoy fresh fruits and vegetables and can’t make it back from my little garden without crunching fresh green beans and popping sweet cherry tomatoes into my mouth. I move through life at a relaxed pace that fits me. I love quiet and have plenty of it. I have more energy early than late in the day. The dear people in my life take pleasure in my presence and I in theirs. My main desire is to be available to whatever The Creator puts on my path each day. The spiderwort plant thrives in sun and shade and, if pruned back, blossoms from late spring to fall. I am in a glorious fall season in my life…although it is a 90 degree August day! The spiderwort’s life is about longevity and beauty and knowing when to open and when to rest…simple truth. If I want to see the flower open I need to respect its timing and get out early in the day. What wisdom this lovely wildflower shows me about guarding my heart. It makes me wonder how you are called to guard yours. The Artist of creation leaves each of us messages throughout nature as signposts about living life fully. An experience of guarding your heart: If you like, begin with Proverbs 4:23, “Above all else, guard your heart for it is the wellspring of life.” As you head outdoors with your journal and crayons, let this idea permeate your day. Notice what you are attracted to…write about it, draw, create a haiku…let it sink into your being until you know what learning comes for you about how you might care for your heart. Enjoy the colors and smells and sounds of this moment in your life!
Mourning or Morning--July 2010 Mourning dove morning
An experience of morning: Grab your journal and art supplies and open your door to the morning. Allow yourself to let go of whatever mourning yesterday might have brought. Come fresh into your day willing to experience its newness. Smell the air, listen to the sounds and notice the shapes and colors. Be aware of the gifts The Artist is bringing to your consciousness on this day. Write and draw about what treasure you find!
Open to the Extraordinary—June 2010
We move on from this remarkably untouched place, with me inspired to sing Katharine Lee Bates’ words from America the Beautiful…the part where she says, “God shed his grace on thee” and ends with “From sea to shining sea!” It feels true. I remain aware of this blessing.
An experience of openness to the extraordinary: Take your journal and crayons and anything else you’d like and go to a place outside that you are a little less familiar with…even if it is the park down the street. Allow yourself to enter into this experience with a sense of openness to what The Artist might show you. Pay attention to all of your senses and be ready for an attraction to something that seems extraordinary. Journal, draw and write about your experience and its meaning for you. Have an amazing rest of your day!
Simple Truth-- May 2010 Trillium beauty Sitting on the woodland ground, I spy a lovely white mayapple blossom surprise which was concealed nearby under its umbrella leaves. What a delight this is! I haven’t even moved and there is more available to savor.
I am joyous when I pause and pay attention to the moment. Living in a make it happen culture, it is easy to get the idea that movement or the moment depends on me. Sometimes I see myself as in charge…needing to control the moments. It is a wonder-filled knowing that it is often more useful to move out of the driver’s seat and see the treasure right in front of me. An experience of simple truth: Take time for yourself wherever you are and go outside. Turn off your logic and allow yourself to be aware of what you are attracted to…What you see, hear, smell or touch that calls to you. Write in your journal about your experience or draw a picture. Stay with it until you know a simple truth in your life from this moment you have taken. Enjoy! Pulling out the Deadwood—April 2010
An Experience of Pulling out the Deadwood: Make some time and go outdoors with your journal and art supplies to re-view your life. Listen, look at and smell the day. Beware of what you are attracted to and what seems life giving or not. Reflect on what its meaning might be for you. Journal, draw or move until you become clearer about what in your life is working and what might need some weeding or pulling out!
Freedom to Fly--March 2010
Waiting snow melts
A couple of weeks ago a fluffy round mourning dove landed on the glass ceilinged room at the back of my home and proceeded to spend some time walking about on her spindly legs. My expectancy rose as flocks of geese flew by heading north in small and large convoys. Next, wrens, cardinals and robins, all checked out home sites for their new families. The woodpeckers are pecking, the hawks are circling and celebration sounds are constant. Apparently they all have the schedule for a welcome home party.
Receiving Gracefully--February 2010 I arrive at Dauphin Island, Alabama, leaving the lengthy “arctic blast” in the Midwest, only to find it has even reached the Gulf Coast! It’s OK because I’m not here for the weather. Recently retired from my work as a therapist, I’m spending five weeks on the island to unwind and discern what The Creator is opening for the next part of my life. I look up retire in the dictionary and find…to withdraw or remove oneself from worldly matters or the company of others, or go away or apart, to a place of privacy, shelter, or seclusion…to go to bed…to retreat from the usual field of activity in an orderly fashion. I can do this and this wilderness island is a good place to sort it out. The cold hangs on and I don’t mind. Then there is a deluge of rain which doesn’t bother me either because I have no agenda. Damp gale force winds move through and it feels colder than Illinois. I’m all right, but the palm trees aren’t. (I secretly pray for them.) I’m waiting. I sleep…deeply and peacefully. I read all sorts of books. I journal and track my dreams. Ten days pass. I’m waiting. I let my mind and spirit uncoil from 25 years of moving and creating and doing in my work life. I am curious about who I am without a need to gear up for what’s next. Finally, the sun and temperature coordinate their efforts and the wind is warm. I feel like Noah poking my nose out the door after all the cold wet weather. My lounge chair on the front porch is enclosed in sunshine today and I plop down. This spot feels like a tree house vantage point balanced on the lofty stilts under the house. I am thankful for the last 10 days of unwinding, as well as, the warm sun and wind today. It occurs to me that The Artist of creation is like the wind, that is, mighty and capable of changing all that is touched…moving and forming all the while. The Creator calls out from an invisible place and yet is entirely visible through the movement and changes that appear throughout nature including in me. I see both gentleness and mightiness in the wind today. I feel embraced in love as I soak in the warmth of the sun…the warm wind lapping around me. I am receiving gifts I cannot yet put words to. PS…I am now sort of back from Dauphin Island in Illinois. My son Jay looked at the slow as molasses me this week and asked, "Mom, are you still on Alabama Time?" My natural rhythm is much slower than I would have predicted…ahhh. I am curious about the other gifts I will unwrap.
An Experience of Receiving Gracefully—Take some time or make some time to go outside in a leisurely way. I know 35 days is a lot…but how about 35 minutes? Take along your journal and art supplies. Allow yourself to breathe in deeply…smell the air. Slow down enough to receive the grace filled gift that is waiting for you. Be in it. Write and draw about it. Savor it so that it becomes a conscious part of you.
Misty Mystical Mystery--January 2010 Gazing out the window, I’m quite content to be indoors visiting with my friends in New York on this early January day. Looking beyond the snow and trees to the Hudson River, I notice mist rising from its mirror smooth iridescent surface. At last I let go of my cozy spot and go outside for a closer look at the mystical reflection on the Hudson. The air is wholly still as I pad out on the back porch in slippered feet. It is not only still, but also crisp and inviting...filled with clear cool goodness. A deep inhale brings its freshness into me. I stay with this sweet fresh unmarked moment.
Crisp still morning air Back indoors, the thesaurus pops up the words foggy murky cloudy steamy when I look up misty. I decide to look up the word mystical as I associate it with misty. I find spiritual, numinous, supernatural as synonyms…not at all like misty. The word mystical is identified as mystery and wonder beyond what is ordinary. Perhaps if we see the mist as fog and murkiness, that is what we experience. If we wait in the stillness with a heart open to The Artist, it is transformed into a deeper mystery. A mystical mystery experience: Before going outside, empty your preconceived ideas about what you might find. Take along your journal and art supplies. Wander…pause when something catches your attention. Stay with it long enough to be in and part of the mystery of the moment. Afterward, journal and draw and write haiku until you have the clarity you desire about the mystery of this moment. |
It’s snowing and the reporter said it would “stick”. A blast of cold air strikes me as I notice the thin layer of white beginning to blanket everything. For several weeks, I have denied that a cold snowy winter is on the way. While bracing myself for the thick grey blanket which rolls out like insulation separating me from the sky, I had a secret thought that it might not happen this year.
Today the log chairs are empty and covered with a dusting of snow. The grey cloud cover has rolled in beyond the empty branches. Denial is no longer possible. I decide to be present to this changing moment, instead of arriving heel first in judgment. Then I notice the clear crisp air…staccato...not mushy with last summer’s humidity. Proceeding further, I am thankful for the warmth of my jacket. I take time and to notice my now visible breath. It is very quiet…no lawn mowers or neighbor’s voices in the distance.
The air is crispy cold clear and 70 degree days are rare now. A frost is lurking close by. After some avoidance, my urge to go outside wins. Visions of moving bushes and plants to new locations are dancing in my imagination. My cheeks are cold and flushed and my breath is visible as I move around the yard. Squirrels are running up and down the hill behind my home scratching the soil and burying food. I share this instinctive preparation urge. The leaves are turning red and yellow and it seems like time is running out in the rush to winter’s stillness. I am part of this frenzied activity.
We decide to go on a boat trip up the Fox River…one last summer ride. Winding slowly along, we find the great blue heron rookery nests empty of birds already…feels lonely. A week or two ago there were herons popping up over the hundreds of nests creating a Dr. Seuss housing project effect. We move on looking trying to find even one Harry Heron before fall closes the door. 
As I let go of the green outdoors, I want to hang on to the green inside myself. With the colder weather and the less colorful landscape coming soon, I partially agree with Kermit the frog who sings “It’s not easy being green”, except my words are;”It’s not easy staying green.” Green, for me, means full of life and living…being awake and present in the moments whether grass green or snow white.
Today, a couple hover on the deck near the leaky hose…drinking and splashing in the water. I creep up to the screen for one fast photo, but don’t escape notice as they flap, flap…twitter, twitter in a whir of wings back into the blue. Noticing one sits as rooftop sentry, smooth and sleek, I manage to get a photo by sticking only my camera out the door. Finally I get a picture of a round twig footed dove walking on the glass roof above. The glass is opaque from her side, but not mine. Gotcha!
to be spectacular. Because we have almost unlimited time, we are in mosey mode. I peruse the site seeing map, and we decide to head off Interstate 101 to a little town called Ferndale. Once there, I notice a smaller “road less traveled” barely marked on the map. We are open to anything. I notice this area of coastline is called, “the lost coast." I 
wonder what that means. As we zigzag up, up, up a tiny winding mountainous road with no
space for a passing car and only the forest to keep us from falling off a cliff…I briefly rethink our choice. There is, however, no turn around place and I am curious. We finally emerge to a surreal verdant green world of giant hills and mountains as far as I can see with rainbow bright wildflowers along the roadside. I can only drive a minute or so before feeling it is necessary to stop the car, get out, breathe in the open air and take another photo. Glorious! 
The Artist of creation has quietly supplied me with what I need and my part is to be present to it…to thankfully acknowledge it.
As I yank the deadwood off, there are new perky green plants popping up below. Each one brings me pleasure as I pull off and toss away the old. Finally, I spy the first daffodil poking through a bed of myrtle. Hope. Oh, how wonderful for The Artist of creation to have given me constant encouraging reminders of possibilities. Every season and every day is an opportunity for newness.
Cameron, my grandson, still fresh from The Artist at 2 years old, rounds out my day as I experience his newness and joy in climbing a tree in his park near the river. There is no deadwood in his sweet life and there doesn’t have to be in mine either!
I am thankful for the grace in this wide and deep stretch of time. I breathe in the sweet balmy air of this morning. Even the wind is warm, though wild and
circular as it whips in and around me. It feels mighty…a predominating force in the landscape today and yet invisible except in the movement of trees and grass. The long needles of the island pines are blowing sideways. And there are moments of utter stillness when the wind is silent.
When I dare to go into The Artist’s creation, The Creator changes how I see…changes my perception, changes my view of reality to what really is beneath and beyond what I view on the surface. I become aware that of being fully part of creation and connected to it in the deepest way…woven by the same Artist. As I experience the beauty in and around me I recognize my own beauty more acutely on this morning. I am part of the clarity and freshness of the air…the ease and grace of the deer. The mirror of the river’s reflection shows me The Artist of creation. As I receive this insight, I am grateful.