Diamonds

For those who have endured such a winter, a meager and already melting half inch of snow is not exactly breaking news. But here where the mountains have been shrouded in dust, last night gifted rare and precious diamonds. Even the droplet contained a lake. Abundance.

I can see so many metaphors of life. I can see so many ways to take this droplet and weave it into my moving through life. But this morning, this drop, this diamond waiting to fall upon the waiting earth is simply that. To appreciate and give thanks for a droplet as it is.

Setting Day

Setting days. That's what my grandmother called them. Can't say you've done much and yet the day was full. Like noticing how the shadow of a tree resting upon the side of a house bends as it lays down on the roof. Or watching a raven call out to others that the seed has been served. Is it the same raven each day? A different raven? I cannot tell them apart. Would that I were gifted to notice this raven as distinct from others. I cannot and yet he or she is. I need to practice. Maybe that's what setting days are all about. Noticing what you can and noticing what you can't. But setting equals noticing. I guess that, in the end, is what makes the day full. Yes grandma, it is sweet.

A Smile Alive

Have you ever felt your face smile?

I fed the birds and came inside hoping the promised light snow would come and coat the drought hardened earth that had known only the shroud of blowing dust. I don't remember walking to the window, but there I was. I saw the birds hopping and fluttering around the feeder. And suddenly I felt my face smile. I could feel every muscle move, the eyes change and the body melt. Visceral and sensual as if another had touched my body, I felt the smile. No explanation needed. And the snow began to fall.

True Voice

In joy and pain I have sat with others, and myself, and wondered what could I possibly say? Words seem so bulky. Then in the silence to know only the gift of 'thank you' to the little heart that feels and in truth, tis the only voice I need.

Startled Soul

Sometimes I rub these precious failing eyes as they struggle to see and wonder how long the gift will be mine. Then to turn their gaze upward and see. Sweet mercy the gift, as it is, startles my soul with joy.

Invitation

The curtains closed to separate the outside cold from the warmth inside. Yet the prism cloaked behind the curtains gifts a gentle reminder. To know every moment is an invitation to be open and see.

Life's Perfect Timing

The litany of items I could list that delayed my return home. To see the mountains and winter's trees gifted a drive of soft gentle sweet tears. The list continued upon my return as I tried so hard to get out and walk with nature's mountains and trees.

Finally, just before sunset I scurried out. My heart so wanted to say thank you for nature's presence that traveled with me. As I rounded the bend, there she stood. As if she had been patiently waiting. We just stood and spoke in silence. Slowly she walked back into the mountains. I bowed and watered the drought hardened earth with my tears. The whisper so gentle...there are no delays or detours if I but listen with my heart and look to see what waits for me.

Feathered Migration Home...Again

The journey is complete. I return back to my mountains and little hobbit house tomorrow. Nature had been sweet and gifted me ten feathers. Having met the amazing hearts of my peers I returned nature's gifts by gifting each one, all ten to my peers. Each feather was received with such a gentle soft heart and eyes.

Saying goodbye to the river front and city lights I turned to walk back to the room as the sun bid good night to the day and the journey. The sea gull's cry made my heart dance. I knew the whisper. Looking down, was a feather of my own. In giving we truly do receive so much more, I would not have returned empty handed. But nature had one more feather that would travel with me. A gentle whisper, though the dream has been realized, the flight has just begun. A new path awaits. Like the migrating geese, I am going Home.

Neither Up Nor Down-Simply There

Sometimes I do smile at Life's sense of gentle humor. How often to think a change of perspective is needed. Yesterday, as the plane flew so many thousands of feet in the air, I looked out and there were my precious mountains waving above the clouds. So many days, looking up, I stood in awe at how they pierced the clouds. That moment, looking down, not up, the vision was the same. 

Sometimes we try to over analyze, sometimes to think a change is needed, sometimes to ask "Oh please life grant more clarity!" And there stood the mountains, the same whether looking up or looking down. A gifted smile, to know strength, awe, beauty, and courage are so constant. No digging, no clinging or discarding, no effort required. To trust the instinct within the heart.... it is there my child, right now, where and as you are.

Exposure Nailed

Life always nails us. The big nails somehow seem to wake us up. The little nails either go unnoticed because we've become numb to the pain or we fail to notice the gift. Either way, when we're nailed we bleed.

What is interesting is that our blood is not red until it is exposed to air, to the outside world. The essence and flow of our life changes when exposed.

Removing the rock from my shoe and rubbing the bloody blister made, the dance of the sun caught my eye. The rock, though little, was as much a part of the mountain as the big boulders. In fact, the boulders, even the mountains would fall were it not for all the little rocks that hold them in place. I placed the rock bearing a dab of red not blue blood back upon the trail side. Life always nails us. Bowing to the dance of sun and tree, I whispered the welcome for all nails and rocks to expose and transform what is inside of me. To see not nails or rocks, but the ladders, support, and mountains they create and sustain.

Passing Through

I am a snob! Oh the realization was horrific and my little heart sunk. I who treasure my tender open little heart stood face to face with the realization. It was not kind.

The morning shower was too hot. A brisk recognition and then I simply turned the knob. My shirt was turned wrong side out. I giggled to notice and turned it right side out. My little dog had run off with my socks. I laughed to play tag and saw her eyes sparkle with joy.  I came into the den and thought it dark. The power was out. My longed for coffee had not brewed nor was the internet available. I muttered and harumpf’d to think this the start of my day. The power returned with an email that sucked the remaining non-harumpf’d breath out. That was when I realized I am a snob.

I had placed life’s challenges in a hierarchy – worthy and unworthy of mindfulness, worthy and unworthy of my open precious little heart. Was not each one worthy of my heart’s greeting? Was not each challenge worthy of my attention and desire to learn? Does not each one create trust and openness for all challenges to come? I pondered my cringe when I see others negate the worth of other people. Do not the challenges, lessons, and speed bumps of life deserve to be welcomed with equanimity and grace? For if I cannot embrace and welcome them, could my heart truly open and embrace the lives of others who in truth, are but lessons of the same? Are not both just passing through?

Beginning and Been

I ponder the many changes. I confess like the monkey, with his hand stuck in the jar clinging to the treat, there is the urge to hold on and not release, keeping my hand stuck in the jar. And then the whisper of "beginning again...but all has been."

Is not the sun at noon, unnoticed, perhaps uninteresting, the same sun that rises and sets with such magnificence and grandeur? And yet, it is not. The same for millions of years and in the time the words were typed it has changed. The tides of my emotions, growth, and understanding have all been felt by others since life began. And yet they are uniquely mine.

Perhaps that is the thread and whisper. Like the breath I begin again yet all has been. To greet the familiar of today like an old old friend and leave the door open for the friend yet to meet. 

Cradled Waterfall

I know suffering, my own and the world's. I do not deny, suppress, nor turn my gaze. I know the tears streaming down and the knots suffering creates. Perhaps that is why the Celtic cross is created with intertwining knots and circles. Pain, loss, fear, whatever the label, I call them each by name as I would a dear friend. Each is my teacher, my mentor, and even the path.

The knots bind me with my own tenderness and those of all beings and life. The knots bind me in the circle of joy, gratitude, this moment flowing into the next. The knots woven by suffering are the cradle and cocoon of my heart and tears. And when the time is ripe, I emerge with waterfalls of joy streaming from the knots. The streaming down now bathes all without and within.

Rooting Soil

I awakened this morning and felt my heart race. I am alive. My heart raced to see the shadows of light, to feel the floor beneath my feet, and the strength of legs and spine that held my body upright. When graced with such powerful caress all else I face becomes rooting soil.

Twists of Praise

This morning a whispered prayer that I might always and in all ways see something new in all I meet. That I might offer a gift of praise and thanks for their being. People are like my precious trees...always a new twist, bend, texture, or touch of light but you have to pause and see...not let fly by unnoticed.

Tis.

Tis. A word without judgment, without a single what if, could be, should be, or if it were. It is not complacent. It is the power of the keystone, the gap, the fulcrum between the inhalation and exhalation. A reminder that we cannot simply inhale nor can we only exhale. Written backwards it is the reminder to sit. It is the raising of the heart's chalice and toast of L'Chaim! ...with no if, or, nor, or but.

On this day of winter's solstice may we all know winter's transforming fire of tis. And when the solstice's night quilts our sleep, may we whisper twas and release.

Welcome Recognition

He was so kind to put air in my tires. My eyes cannot read the gauge. I offered to pay but he would not accept, offering only a most gentle smile to say 'no need.' As is my custom, my hands went to my heart and I bowed in thanks. As I rose, returning his smile, he looked awkward and ever so stiffly he mimicked a slight bow. My smile grew larger and burst open when he bellowed and laughed "Hey, I like that!"  Two strangers joined as one in respect and gratitude.

Returning home, five candles were lit, forming a star. Facing each one I bowed to each and called them by name...fear, grief, loss, hope, and love. And somewhere, somehow, I heard the voice of "hey I like that!" Strangers and friends joined as one in respect, gratitude, and welcome.

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.

Opening Christmas #5 - Bargain Aisle

Opening Christmas Day 5,  I ponder the conversation with my brother about items still remaining in our parents’ house. “Yes there are things I would like, but I have nowhere to put them. It is ok to discard.”  My gaze went to the corner where a kite hangs and gently moves with the furnace’s breath. I remember over a year ago when it sailed. At 58 my first ever time to fly a kite and I marvel to think of the joy that still overwhelms my heart.  A $2 kite flown for less than five minutes and even if the kite was not visible to my eyes the gift of life and joy would still be there.

 On this day 5 of opening Christmas may I seek not those gifts that require space and not heart. May I remember Rumi’s words of warning about Love – “This kiss will cost you your life!” To which Rumi replied, “What a bargain!” As I open Christmas on this day 5, may I seek only those gifts in Love’s bargain aisle.

Opening Christmas #1 - The Gift of Tilt

As one with no family or nearby friends to celebrate Christmas, a whisper to begin a reflection series and opening of gifts. To begin to reflect upon this season, the last before the calendar notes that I have now reached 60.
        The image is the moon dancing with clouds and the morning. Oh her illumination so grand in the night, a portal of light beaming through the darkness. And yet here she is, dancing in the day. Her presenceis  always there,. She is now seen simply because of the tilt of the earth and nature's season.
        In this time of bargain deals, frantic mailings, crowds, lines, and lists, I open the gift of tilting. Tis one thing to have a faith that shines a light in the darkest of hours. Tis another to behold and see the light that shines and dances during the day. To pause and feel the buffeting winds of preparations as but a reminder to look, see, breathe, and yes, tilt.