Trail of Joy

And let it be known, that yes, I join the trees in their dance of life. May all others join who travel upon the trail of my life.

Dormancy's Dance

Last year's growth says to the cold and moisture "Come and rest upon me." What some might see as dormant and without life transforms the two into one. A resting place for life. Dormancy's dance with life.

What It's All About

In the morning I do enjoy festive uplifting music after meditation. This morning I wanted to sing and sought a song to capture the joy in my heart. I wanted my song to be the sun on a gray fog shrouded morning. I was amazed how many songs I think of as festive but it is the beat not the words that makes my body laugh. I would listened to the words and wince, giggle.

And as my little dog jumped about, enjoying the dance of music, I surrendered my search. Went to youtube and typed in the name of the song that teased me. My little dog and I danced about the house gifting sun, change, joy, and laughter to the foggy morning, the world, the earth, and all. We put our right foot in, we took our right foot out, and with giggled joy we turned ourselves about. We did the hokey pokey of laughter and life. After all, that's what it's all about......

Touch the Water and Dance

Some people have rhythm. Some have grace and style. Others have passion and are simply free spirits. Others, only alone with their heart as their muse. Dancing seems innate in nature and even little children. We know the exhilaration of movement and release. We know the breathless passion of literally being swept off and onto our feet. Rumi used the dervish, a wild dance of the spirit to enter the door of Oneness and Love. So, when did we stop dancing every day, every moment? Today, in all my to do's, from here to there, may I hear the music and not walk or go to and fro.  I shall dance with Love. I shall dance with abandon. I shall dance with life. Yes Life, today I shall touch the water and soar.

“Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free” ~ Rumi

Breath and Flame

Sitting with the candle last night my heart sighed to think of all the wonder. The flame, once stilled, began to dance. It made me giggle. To watch how sensitive the flame was to movement and yet the wick stood still. The wick like the trees this morning, dancing with clipper winds, bending and swaying and yet they remain steadied and strong. To use the flame of Life as a guide when that about us would cause us to sway.  Noticing the source the movement, and knowing you, your essence, your truth remains untouched. To dance with the flame and yet in fierce grace to protect the flame. The way the winds may blow we cannot control but we can choose how and when the precious flame will dance, stretch or stand in stillness. Our light moving outward to touch all around and unveil the darkness, but at its essence, its truth, it is our flame.

Layered Choice

How is it the clouds are racing across the sky? They linger a moment, a quiet hush upon the mountains, and then create windbows as they glide like a leaf on a flowing river? The trees are still. No wind to make them dance.

Today, when others, or myself, would define my atMUSTsphere, may I remember this moment of awe. Stillness of trees. Gliding armies of clouds. Playful windbows. Or the softness of the grass looking up and beholding all. To choose where I will dance.

Dance

image from Diane Sinclair & Ken Spaulding

I call out for clarity. "Let me see!" I sit and ask that I might know, the door to open, the clouds to clear, the answer revealed.

And then the whisper comes "to move." Like the chaos of creativity from which the painting of music emerges in dance.... clarity comes with movement. To see one must move. Movement begets clarity.

Surrender to the Tension

What is it about a blank page that can intimidate us? What is it about sitting in meditation, silence, or shutting the world out that makes us edgy, antsy and our minds jump into warp speed trying to fill the void? Oh, yes, a day of "nothing" is often ever so welcomed. String those days together and we suddenly find ourselves asking "what shall I do?" as if we had to have a target or goal, a purpose.

This morning I sat and looked at the blank page. I could feel the tension to write, to say something, to "release."  Instead, I surrendered and looked at the page and let my heart write as the pen remained capped. I could see the script, the words and some that had no alphabet squiggle simply feelings. The page was filled.

Sitting there in the stillness I noticed my heart went silent. Puzzled at first, my brain started to engage. The brain quieted and the heart began to sing.... as the page began to write back to me.

May I see this day before me like the blank page. To surrender to the tension of Love and Life...knowing when to write with my hands, when to write with my heart, and always to read the handwriting of Life writing back to me.

Dervish'd Certainty

Perhaps when life doesn't make sense, we do not feel we are moving forward and yet we know we are.... maybe, giggle, it means like Rumi, or a child in ecstatic joy, we are simply caught up in the spinning dervish, twirling, and dancing joyfully with Life and Light. And what we think is fear or feel as 'confusion' or 'uncertainty' is nothing more than our eyes unable to catch up with our dancing hearts and spirits.

cherish the dance............

Unseen's Dance

My right hand for 57 of my 58 years has grasped and carried things, written stories, poetry, and even my name. The last year a tremor has made those treasures all but impossible and it remains hidden in my pocket to keep others from staring. As my little heart unfolds, my spirit rises and dispels what the mind sees, I look at my hand and see not the tremor but her precious heart. And so a little paint set, sitting on a path against a tree, I whispered softly, "Dance."  And a little hand and wings soared from the mountain top to the clouds. A giggle spirit danced atop the lake below. 

Celebrate the glorious perfection that IS.

To Know the Dance

What is it about Autumn that draws so many souls to see? The trees aflame with glorious colored leaves are like the blush of the evening sky as the sun draws down and the day comes to an end.  Like the sun, the source of life has drawn down into the earth and nestled within the roots awaiting spring’s warmth.  The leaves, deprived of the sap, will fall without clinging, upon the earth.  They do so without fear knowing the tree, their essence remains. Like the brilliance of the evening sunset that inflames lovers, poets and artists, both leaf and sun know they will return and bid not adieu but simply ‘good night.’  To assure us of their return they inflame our hearts with awe, playfulness, excitement and wonder.  Like the moon that stands constant throughout the night, the stark naked trees hold vigil.  In their vigil, should we forget the passionate colors of Autumn, they offer their unshielded nakedness in a wild frenzied dance of life.  A dance unseen without the stillness of life drawn back into the earth.

Sweet Hands of Life, when my winter season arrives, may all that be said or seen point to the dance of the trees and a leaf aflame with color dancing her way without fear to the earth.

Equinox Encore

Within the cupped hands of the timeless, the changeless and the changing rest. The seasons have changed only for those whose source of life returns to the roots awaiting winter's meditation. For the changeless the sap remains, not as strong, but enough to hold their adornment.  The timeless stands, weathered perhaps, but without sap it stands in its strength.

A picture to capture the beginning and continuation of all seasons. Like the dance of the soul unpretentious, flamboyant, graceful strength, stilled and lifted and a final pirouette. Tis the autumn equinox and the timeless holds forth Her cupped hands and gift, whispering, 'Encore."

To Taunt a Dance

And as the storm moves in, the soon to be ended day taunts one last dance. Somewhere in the light beams playing I know my Own knows the tune. One day to perhaps taunt a dance and then rest upon the mountains like a mother's hand gently caressing her sleeping child.

"it will always be like this,

each of us going on

in our inexplicable ways

building the universe.

~Mary Oliver

Taste the rain

Such a brief rain, not even twenty minutes. But how can one not go and walk and celebrate the drink given to the parched earth?


As I approached the lake, and watched the last of the dancing rain drops tap upon the lake's surface, I paused to wonder - what does rain feel like to the lake? Water upon water dancing. Does it feel different than the cascade of the fountain or the droplets spraying from a fish trying to fly? Compared to the parched dry earth, quickly soaking in the droplets before they are reclaimed by the sun, what does rain feel like upon the lake?


And then I pondered, how immune one can get to simply surviving, accepting the insults, mediocrity, the stress and pulls of life, that they become unnoticed - just more water upon water, like rain upon the lake. 


A fish suddenly jumped. A brilliant red Koi and splashed back into the water.  His jump was sassy, playful,free and unashamed.  Even with blurry eyes I could see the spray and ripples he created were different than those from the drops of rain. Maybe he wanted to taste the rain.