sun, moon and unconditional love

IMG_2311

[Sunset in South Africa; Super moon at St. George Island, FL]

The ultimate lesson all of us have to learn is unconditional love, which includes not only others but ourselves as well.

– Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

 

Another page from my final IGNITE project.  A reminder to Listen.

I continue to listen to sun, moon and rhythms.  Am paying attention to what I need and how I ebb and flow in my creative practice and in my life.  From how much vitamin D I need, to living as an introvert, I am learning.  As I gentle my body through perimenopause and its cycles, I have learned over the past decade to always listen to my body.  My body knows.  When to open the windows and where and with whom I’m supposed to be.  When to rest and when to move – My body knows.  Sometimes the talking is through headaches and tears and sometimes through an ache or elation, but my body, she speaks true.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:32-04:00August 19th, 2013|1000 Pieces of my Heart, Journals|2 Comments

Mandala Monday: A mandala for beginning

mandala & journal pages

Mandala for beginning
{extra fine sharpie marker}

October 1.  If I was a resolution maker, I’d be making some resolutions, because for me this is the beginning of the year.  I used to think it was because I’ve been on a school calendar for most of my life, but after years of gardening and listening, I now know it has more to do with the fact, that I’m tuned into cycles.  The circles and the coming and goings of seeds and seasons.

sunflower seed headAs I was driving down the road last week, over about a 10 mile section of road, I saw three different sets of vultures circling.   A reminder to set my eyes on the circle of life.  Leaves are starting to fall, the garden is a bit of mess in the loveliest of ways.  Alive with migrating butterflies and seed pods and deadheads that are feeding the birds now and falling to the ground for next year.

handful of October leavesNew things are beginning.  Odd to be so aware of them when everything seems brown and tired.  But the crisp air, fresh apples and pumpkin candles smell like Hope.  And my orange sweater with the big brown button is my party attire.
 
I’ve been painting pages and cleansing spaces in preparation for the soul work ahead.  I’m not really a resolution maker.  Resolutions feel too much like the performance-for-affirmation hoops I’ve stepped away from.  I am however an intention setter.  These are my intentions for this next season:

Dried hydrangeasI wish to begin with courage, reverence and authenticity and with eyes, arms and heart wide open.  In this season, I choose to honor individual story, approach and timing as I trust the Holy Spirit to reveal Path, plumb depths and clarify Voice.  Bendiciones.

 

 

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00October 1st, 2012|Art is Life is Art, Mandala Monday|1 Comment

Lessons from the garden: on brown wrappings

Her:  “Did you consider that it might be protection?”
Me *sniffling* “mmm…what?”
Her:  Maybe there is purpose in that situation ending.

On that day, I just wanted to cry… but yesterday down on my knees, with the damp earth seeping through my jeans, the words of my wise friend echoed in my heart.

It might be protection.

There is purpose.

new mums small

I get so excited for this time of year in the garden ~ the spring clean-up after the fall clean-up.  The fall clean up is a tucking in, but this, this is like opening a package.  Like welcoming a new baby.  Old growth, left for winter interest, is making way for the new. Like a deep breath of air right after it rains; all feels fresh, crisp and clean.

Ubiquitous cup of coffee in hand, I took inventory.

* Leaves & trash out of beds
* Move trellis
* Trim the crape myrtles
* Too much to do in one day, just start…

And then it was time… to tend and be in the quiet of birdsong, earth and thought.  As I gently pushed back crunchy brown leaves to uncover the seem-to-be-dead-but-not-really-perennials, I heard her again, “Did you consider it might be protection?” The wind blew, and I continued lifting leaves, like little blankets, off of the truth that, the scenario I thought was breaking my heart, was simply a cycle.  One that I can welcome not fight.  Situations fall to the ground and feel like death.  The tears are real, but the endings circle around to the next beginning.   I love uncovering the buds and bits of green because it’s like uncovering my dormant heart.  Those little buds infuse me with hope.  “Maybe there is purpose in the situation’s ending.” Maybe, oh, maybe…

new growth small

Winter is ending ~ Spring is coming.

I am new growth in a brown package;
hope wrapped in last year’s fallen dreams.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:37-04:00February 27th, 2011|Lessons from the garden|7 Comments