Completion

I stood with the buffeting wind pondering the long day. Away from nature's sanctuary, a strange city. Dazzling lights, though beautiful, hid the natural glimmering of the stars. "Breathe. Breathe." I missed my mountains. I missed the stillness and quiet. Closing my eyes I listened to the whisper to simply breathe. Lifting my head towards the sky I opened my eyes. Greeting me softly was the image you see. I am sure those walking passed me wondered what was so funny as I laughed out loud. There, beside one longing for nature's soft cradle, was the very thing I sought but did not see. A simple tree singing with the wind.

Was it the trees I longed for? The chorus of leaves? Or perhaps simply to breathe and know the end of desire and longing, was both birthed and completed within me.

Opening Christmas # 7- Need

On this day 7 of opening Christmas I had to brave the big store to purchase a ladder. No matter the chair, even with books, I could not reach the repair. To my surprise the store was almost empty. Empty of people that is.. Each shelf was far from empty with this and that and that and this. I found myself thinking "Cool, I need that!" or "Wow! Never thought of that, yes, I must have!" I confess I stopped with my little cart and simply laughed out loud. Was it the colors? The wrappings? The Christmas music playing? The newness? What in the world drew my attention to "have" and "should" and "need"?

I left with naught but my ladder and stopped to ponder with nature the lure, the attraction, the surprised feeling of "need." And then to see nature's display. Is the winter shrub holding the rocks? Or are the rocks supporting winter's frail shrub? So little dirt the roots are exposed and yet this summer it thrived. Leaving a handful of corn meal blessing upon the roots and rocks, I gave thanks for need. I gave thanks for simple needs which causes even the angels to sing.

A Life

Emotions, the body and other's choices are but teachers we reflect upon, learn from and then move on.  Death, either of the body, intent or the spirit is not an option for everything transitions from one state to another.  Quitting, ceasing, or putting on hold are like death in that they are not options either.  Essence will transition - the choice is Now...or when.

To stare down eye to eye the charnled ground, affirms the power of choice.  The Essence of Now - to BE more than just Alive ...... To BE A Life.

Passion Creating

An evening stroll to my little city's downtown main street. A small bowl of fruit and coffee. The merchants opened late, couples strolling hand in hand. Solo singers on a stage of a corner sidewalk with traffic passing by, oblivious to all except their songs, their music and their passion to sing.  To see their eyes return, from the land of their dreams as they sang, and greet yours as you applauded..... such a special place. Creation. Passion. Songs of the Heart. Though not present when Life created our universe with such desire and love, tonight I was gifted to watch others with the same yearning and passion, and like the Creator, my heart too whispered, "It is good."

Surrendered Gray

In stillness I sat in the last hour before the moon greeted her lover, the sun, and their gentle embrace blushing the sky. The crickets continued  their night's song of joy, and only my breath stirred the air. Two stars or planets, I know not which, tiny holes in the tapestry of blackened sky.  I remembered a gift from a dear dear friend, I received in the mail. How I held the unopened package with such excitement and yet, not wanting to open it, for then the unknown would be lost.  Sitting with the anticipation of the unknown, then carefully, each corner was slowly pulled back, until the gift and softness was revealed. Like the blush, still yearning to be released, the unknown blended into the known and a new dawn appeared.  Staring at the sky, the planet stars slowly danced beyond my sight and with their dance they gently held the corners of the silken black sky and pulled back a tiny corner. Ever so faint, the deep silky black surrendered a softened gray.  The blush awaits. The dawn remains unknown. And I wondered to myself, is this what an artist feels when their soul merges with a blank canvas? Is this the longing a sculptor feels pleading and calling like Ulysses's sirens from the stone or marble block standing before him?

I sit and await the blush. The cricket continues to sing. And I think I have never expressed my thanks for the brilliant and explosive color of black yielded ever so slightly to gray. The moon and sun will soon paint the sky in colors that cause poets, artists and lovers to swoon.  But for these moments, the gray fringe upon black, pale the reds, orange and blue of dawn. The unknown. The unwrapping.  The soft gift of today held gently in the sweet Hands of Life whispering, 'It is yours.'

May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.

May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.

~John O'Donohue

Humble offering

I know my thoughts are ever so odd, the things that I see and the whispered scriches.  Loose threads and ramblings.

And so, I simply leave this image here, a humble pause for you to hear your own whispered scrich and what you need to see.

Namaste.

Dispelled illusion

As the sun rises, the morning whisper, 'Take off the collar. Don't be like the leashed dog that thinks he is free because he can run. He thinks he is free until he reaches the end of his leash. The dog cannot and his master will not unhook the leash. I give you my light, a new day and strength so you can see how to unhook the collar and leash. Then you can reach inward. Then you can reach out.'