A Meditation of Sorts

Clover and Blossoms

Yesterday on my morning walk with Butters the air was infused with the heady scent of clover blossoms. Clover always causes me to linger, but this morning even more and the  scent had me plucking blossoms and inhaling deeply.

I reflected on clover and my love for it and on a past weekend that I spent planting and mulching at my sister in laws house.  The day was not hurried, I was not hurried, there was no agenda and I often found myself stooped over searching in the clover as we talked and worked. Of course there were bees to be seen, a tiny frog discovered in the mulch, and all the signs around us that spring was reveling in her own beauty. I found myself thinking of other such times as well, at my parents and along walks with Butters and with Alan where clover had figured prominently in the memory of the time.

The clover causes a shift in my mindset.  For me searching in the clover is the pause of gratitude and the delight to be found when we look to explore and revel in the magic the universe so readily offers. It a purposeful pause, a choice to slow down and to notice the details, a meditation of sorts in its own way. Whether or not I ever actually find four leaf clovers does not matter, I am always left with a sense of peace and contentment.

Spring Fever

UNCC Botanical Gardens & Greenhouses

These pictures were taken a few weeks ago on an outing to the botanical gardens and greenhouses of one of the local universities.  The sites, smell and weather were amazing that day and made me long for my own land to dig in again.  Even without my very own land there is much to be thankful for and in awe of as the city comes alive this spring.  

Here flowering buds are bursting on the red bud, cherry and flowering pear trees and shoots of green are breaking through the dark earth and on many of the limbs of bushes and trees.  The clover has returned in full force causing me to pause in search of a lucky clover when I am out and about or on a walk with Miss Butters.  It is amazing to just watch the world around me change day by day.  

This year is moving quickly and I can hardly believe it was 4 months ago when I last posted, and what a ominous post that was since I have spent much of the time since then healing.  Ocular migraines occurred around the first polar vortex and kept me in their grips for 11 straight days.  I finally went to the doctor and thankfully after multiple trips to the eye doctor, medical doctor and several blood tests and an MRI later found out that there was nothing wrong.  The only thing I can determine is that maybe these were caused by the barometric changes in the atmosphere.  In the wake of of all of this was worry, frustration and severe eye and body fatigue.  

Just as I thought things were back on track an unexplained pain in my left hip has occurred that is just as mysterious.  I am on week 5 now of this issue and no amount of stretching, icing, hot baths, turmeric tea, or ibuprofen has provided sustained relief.  Last weekend I sobbed and could only see loss and fear. Loss in the knowledge that I was not going to be able to run my upcoming half marathon I had been training for (my first 13.1 trail run) and fear that I may never be able to run again or go on the many hikes that Alan and I have talked of for this spring and summer.  This weekend I see more possibility and despite the pain feel stronger and am trying to see this as an opportunity to concentrate more on art and writing while I heal. 

A Swarm of Dragonflies

On Thanksgiving day Alan and I spent time simply relaxing.  There was a leisurely breakfast, a walk on the beach, and a little floating in the water while exploring the reef area with snorkel, mask and fin.  Aside from that we lounged in the dappled sunlight under palm trees with each others company, a book (for me) the sound of the ocean and the presence of many curious bobbing dragonflies.  I say bobbing because they appeared to bob in the air rather than dart or zoom.  I was mesmerized by their beauty and the sheer number of them.  There were hundreds if not thousands of dragonflies!  I have never seen anything like this before and had to research this phenomenon. Come to find out this is one of those ephemeral events that few are lucky to experience in their lifetime and I was also able to submit my data for collection as part of The Dragonfly Swarm Project.  

 

This is a small video I made while watching them by the pool late in the afternoon.  There were swarms all over the beach as well.  One of the waitresses came by after watching me take pictures and the video and let me know the Spanish word for dragonfly is libélula (LEE-BEH-LOO-LA).

Souvenirs from Playa Del Carmen

My favorite souvenirs when I travel?  Rocks, shells, sea glass, found objects, photographs, local currency...

We simply had a wonderful vacation in Mexico.  Days filled with snorkeling, diving, happy silence, laughter, cappuccino, warm humid days filled with cool breezes, skies filled with dragonflies (yes everywhere-video to come), relaxation mixed with adventure, wonderful food (beans, rice, chicken, guacamole-a few of my favorites), and reconnecting to each other and our natural rhythms.

Jim Harrison, Poet and Novelist

Yadkin River from a "walk in the woods" day

"In a life properly lived, you’re a river. You touch things lightly or deeply; you move along because life herself moves, and you can’t stop it; you can’t figure out a banal game plan applicable to all situations; you just have to go with the “beingness” of life, as Rilke would have it."  ~Jim Harrison

This quote comes from a wonderful interview with Jim Harrison, written in 1986 and published in the Paris Review. If you have some time available, grab a cup of hot tea or your favorite cozy beverage of choice and curl into this interview on writing, art, and above all living.

Here are a few of his  poems as well...so gracious to have stumbled upon his work today.

Dan’s Bugs

I felt a little bad about the nasty earwig
that drowned in my nighttime glass of water,
lying prone at the bottom like a shipwrecked mariner.
There was guilt about the moth who died
when she showered with me, possibly a female.
They communicate through wing vibrations.
I was careful when sticking a letter
in our rural mailbox, waiting for a fly to escape,
not wanting her to be trapped there in the darkness.
Out here in the country many insects invade our lives
and many die in my nightcap, floating and deranged.
On the way to town to buy wine and a chicken
I stopped from 70 mph to pick up
a wounded dragonfly fluttering on the yellow line.
I’ve read that some insects live only for minutes,
as we do in our implacable geologic time.

Sunlight

After days of darkness I didn’t understand
a second of yellow sunlight
here and gone through a hole in clouds
as quickly as a flashbulb, an immense
memory of a moment of grace withdrawn.
It is said that we are here but seconds in cosmic
time, twelve and a half billion years,
but who is saying this and why?
In the Salt Lake City airport eight out of ten
were fiddling relentlessly with cell phones.
The world is too grand to reshape with babble.
Outside the hot sun beat down on clumsy metal
birds and an actual ten million year old
crow flew by squawking in bemusement.
We’re doubtless as old as our mothers, thousand
of generations waiting for the sunlight.

Broom

To remember you’re alive
visit the cemetery of your father
at noon after you’ve made love
and are still wrapped in a mammalian
odor that you are forced to cherish.
Under each stone is someone’s inevitable
surprise, the unexpected death
of their biology that struggled hard, as it must.
Now to home without looking back,
enough is enough.
En route buy the best wine
you can afford and a dozen stiff brooms.
Have a few swallows then throw the furniture
out the window and begin sweeping.
Sweep until the walls are
bare of paint and at your feet sweep
until the floor disappears. Finish the wine
in this field of air, and return to the cemetery
in evening and wind through the stones
a slow dance of your name visible only to birds.

Debtors

They used to say we're living on borrowed
time but even when young I wondered
who loaned it to us? In 1948 one grandpa
died stretched tight in a misty oxygen tent,
his four sons gathered, his papery hand
grasping mine. Only a week before, we were fishing.
Now the four sons have all run out of borrowed time
while I'm alive wondering whom I owe
for this indisputable gift of existence.
Of course time is running out. It always
has been a creek heading east, the freight
of water with its surprising heaviness
following the slant of the land, its destiny.
What is lovelier than a creek or riverine thicket?
Say it is an unknown benefactor who gave us
birds and Mozart, the mystery of trees and water
and all living things borrowing time.
Would I still love the creek if I lasted forever?

A Walk in The Woods

A walk in the woods was just what I needed...to once again feel that I too belonged in the universe. Amazing how the trees and leaves and rocks and breezes and blue skies can do that.

A Poem from May

 

 

Drift Seeds

　

At a stoplight entering downtown

on a late afternoon in May

I spot downy drift seeds floating from the sky.

　

At this intersection

old majestic trees give way

to stone, steel, and brick.

　

I do not know the origin of these fluffy orbs of life

or even what they will grow to be.

I only know they cause me to pause and wonder.

　

Do the other passengers and drivers and walkers

see with the same eyes and heart?

Will the stoplight camera on the corner

capture this unfolding of life?

　

All around, so much that we take for granted.

Life continues to open and close as a breath,

indifferent to the pavement or time or passerby.

Day Twelve: Favorite Things-Treasure Hunting

A Few of This Years Found Objects

Treasure Hunting is a daily activity and one that I relish.  As a child I was the one enlisted to find things in our household when they were lost and usually located the lost item in record time.  I loved combing through the many drawers, cabinets and closets in my grandparents home and would routinely drag out items that I found wanting to know what they were, where they came from and to show the rest of the family (My mother, brother, grandmother and grandfather) what I had found.  Perhaps because I had such an intimate knowledge of the inventory of our home is why I was so good at locating our lost objects. I frequently found money in the grocery store aisle or right outside of the store as well. 

To this day treasure seems to find me as much as I find it. I find it in a four leaf clover or a feather along my path, in the fortune inside the carefully folded cookie and in the comic strip wrapped around the slice of gum. Treasure is  a pair of pants that fits like they were tailored just for me located at the thrift store, or the perfect book of poetry found at the used bookstore, signed by the author.  Along my daily walks I often find earrings, dimes, and pennies, and hand written notes on tiny slips of paper.  And I have jars and bowls full of shells and rocks from the beaches and creeks I have visited over the years.

Do you Treasure Hunt outdoors or in thrift and consignment stores?  What are some of your favorite finds?

Day Eight: Favorite Things-Awareness

It is not what you look at that matters, it is what you see.  Henry David Thoreau

Morning Run:  Fall Light flooding the Earth

This life goes by so fast and it is easy to get so caught up in to do lists and in tomorrow and next week and even yesterdays that we miss what is right in front of us.

A wild flower pushing up out of the cracked concrete sidewalk teaching us lessons of resilience and determination and beauty in unexpected places.  A shimmer of light higher in the trees indicating fall is here.  The look from a pet, child, lover or friend as they stare at us in longing that goes unnoticed. 

And it can be just as much what we don't feel as it can be what we don't see.  We don't feel gratitude because we feel scarcity because everything is  moving so fast.  We don't feel love from the pet, child, lover or friend because we are so busy getting from one thing to the next until we fall into bed and get up and start all over again.

I did this for years.  Oh every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of what seemed to be a still life all around me, a parallel universe of sorts and when I saw it I was often filled with a longing that scared me.  At times (even still)I have an all or nothing personality so I had a hard time incorporating down time and rest and awareness in my old routine.  It is now a part of everyday and it too helps ground me in the present and be thankful for this very moment.  I take daily walks and runs and purposefully listen, look, smell and hear all that I can about my surroundings. 

This evening, or tomorrow morning, or on your your way to work, or to the coffee shop, or lunch please take the moment to see life differently by doing life differently. Make a conscious effort to put away the cell phone or book or radio or i-pod or whatever it is that is distracting you (pacifying you), and just breathe and listen.  Listen to the hum of life around you.  What do you hear?  Are those crickets?  Can you hear the rustle of fall leaves through the trees?

What do you smell? Could it be the earthy and dusty crispness that comes from cooler weather and the leaves changing from green to gold? Is it bacon wafting out to the street from the open windows of your neighbor during a morning walk? Or is it your own cup of coffee you are savoring quietly and with intent on a little corner of carpet with your legs crossed indian style as you wake up to today and all its possibilities? 

What do your eyes notice today that you have overlooked before?  Is the light flooding into the room at a certain tilt that always fills you with a particular happiness that you have not recognized until this very moment? What colors are filling the earth these days; what color are the leaves, what flowers are blooming, is the sky a particular shade of blue?    

Take a different route to work or leave at a different time.  If you work from home, then work from a coffee shop, café, or park for the day.  Or maybe you can get up just 15 minutes earlier and arise with the thought that today is a new beginning, a brand new day and all yours for the taking.  Smile at each person you come into contact with today and really notice them.  Get out of your head (I know it is so hard to do) and look all around you.  

I don’t guarantee this will change your life, just that you will be more aware of your life and present to it and that with practice a more active participant in it.

What do you do in your own life to practice awareness?

Day Six: Favorite Things-Photography

Another of my favorite things is taking pictures.  For me, photography is another way of connecting to the life around me.  It can be a sliver, a microscopic taste, a vast ocean of nothing or everything, containing the frailty and tragedy as well as the miraculous glorious joy of life.  It is a tiny time capsule created by a captured instant that catapults the viewer into a rich inner world of association, the interpretation created by the layers making up the viewer and their unique experiences and beliefs.

Most of my photos tend to be of nature, moments when I am out walking, running, working in the yard or traveling and are taken with a simple point and shoot camera or my cell phone.  I have not yet developed a knack for taking photos of others although I do snap quite a few of these too.  I generally create a folder for each month and save all the pictures I take to that folder, the exception being for special trip or excursions that have their very own folder. 

The pictures are a diary for me and as soon as I see them I am transported back to the moment, no words required.  Here are a few of my favorite photos.

What does photography mean to you?  Please feel free to share a link to your own work in the comments section below.

 

Taken with cell phone, field bathed in bright light

 

Taken with point and shhot camera, crooked creek

 

Taken with cell phone, summer clouds

 

Taken with cell phone, dogwood in bloom

 

Taken with point and shoot, walk along the beach

 

Taken with point and shoot, daughter by fortune and husband

 

Taken with point and shoot, creek bed from moutain hike



Taken with point and shoot, flower on mountain hike

Taken with point and shoot,

 

 

 

Day Three: Favorite Things-Running

Sun climbing through the trees on an early morning run

First let me say I am new at running.  I began walking at a beautiful heavily wooded park two years ago when I quit smoking.  The walking, stretching my legs and lungs, and connecting with the outside world helped me make it through this change.

Six months later I began going to a local greenway with my husbands sister.  She was recovering from a speed skating accident and began walking with me and encouraging me to run between certain marked positions and to walk through others ultimately helping me to build my endurance and confidence. 

After we moved to Charlotte, I began running in the cemetery near our condo.  The cemetery met my needs for tranquility and for nature as it is a large green space.  I was also still shy about running in front of others and was not confident to run on the streets and sidewalks around town. On average I ran 1-2 miles 3-4 times a week.

In March of this year I started running everyday with my brother who decided to take up the sport again.  Then my sister let me know that she and my other siblings had signed up for a 5k and so we signed up too.  After several 5K's and one 8K my brother challenged me to a 1/2 marathon. 

I am now just 4 weeks away from my first 1/2 marathon, the Savannah GA Rock and Roll Marathon and 1/2 Marathon and am now running 25-30 miles per week, 5 days a week.

Why do I love running?  Well for one thing it quiets my avid monkey mind.  Don't get me wrong it is still at work but on new subject matter such as bargaining how to cut out a few miles or at what landmark would make a good breaking point.  I also love how it has made my city and other cities I have ran in seem so much smaller.    If you really want to get to know your community, go run (or walk) it.  You will see all the beauty and nuances that are missed by driving.  Hidden alleyways and gardens are stumbled upon, architectural details are seen up close, and I get to see the people that make up my city and neighborhood as well.  One of the greatest parts of running is being out doors; seeing, feeling and smelling the seasons change, hearing and watching the birds (city hawks and the tam-like finches), looking for feathers and little snail shells and four leaf clovers....being in touch with my environment. 

On my thirtieth birthday by best friend Vila said something to me that I took as a challenge.  She didn't mean it that way but it startled me and make me think of the brevity of this life and the choices I made.  She said that whatever choices and behaviors you had developed by 30 you would likely have for the rest of your life.  On the eve of my fortieth birthday I truly feel stronger in body and in spirit than I did 10 years ago and I thank Vila for being a catalyst for that...and for her love and friendship and support no matter what habits or behaviors I have had over the years.

"There are as many reasons for running as there are days in the year, years in my life. But mostly I run because I am an animal and a child, an artist and a saint. So, too, are you. Find your own play, your own self-renewing compulsion, and you will become the person you are meant to be." - George Sheehan

This Month Around The Yard

This month I have had more time to spend in and around our yard at our old house and have noticed little creatures teeming with activity all about.  I wonder if it is just me, being a more active participant, or if they are all busier in preparation for the shift in seasons and a possibly cooler fall and winter.

The past two years I have been able to mark the subtle changes in seasons by being aware of the insects that seem to suddenly appear.  Crane flies are the first to appear and announce that Spring has arrived.  I know the hummingbirds will be in soon when I spot the first of the crane flies.  The indigo-blue mud dauber is next on the list as temperatures begin to rise.  Dragon flies are just around the corner at the peak of the summer season and the majestic butterfly glides in just as the shadows begin to grow longer.  Spiders then begin to hang their webs in curious places as if they are vying for the greatest attention; high in the trees, in between the bushes, dangling from a power line, and framing doorways and windows with their glistening traps.  This week it is the afternoon chirp of the crickets and watching them in abundance as they leap through the grass just ahead of my step that reminds me cooler temperatures are soon to come.

Activity around the yard this month

I still sometimes have trouble with directions and if I am facing N-S-E-W, but it is nice to be in touch with these clues again and to tell time from a deeper reservoir. 

I would love it if you would share what you are noticing while you are out and about these days?

A Vacation Remembered

This week I stumbled upon our vacation photos from May and fondly remembered the joy and peace found on this trip to the coast.  The clouds rushed in and out threatening of storms that never came while creating stunning portraits in the sky.  I was enthralled with the clouds, so many different shapes and designs...when I wasn't looking up...I was following the trail of shells for miles down the beach lured by the shine and shimmer and the amazing colors gifted from the sea.  There was also a visit to a lighthouse which I learned had been kept two different women when it was active.  This knowledge set off all kinds of adventuresome daydreams of beach combing and intimately knowing a piece of land and her changes in weather and season.

Rainy Day at Sea

Rainy Day at Sea

After several versions and revisions a new painting has emerged.  This painting reminds me of the beauty found in storms and how the world around us changes in depth of color based on the light and clouds.  The song Lillie by Lisa Hannigan played in my mind often while working on the last phase of this painting as well. 

I first started painting on the canvas horizontally and in the first phases was reminded of being underwater.  Then I added orbs of color and the painting took on more of a fall-leaves feeling to me.  I liked it to a certain degree but I over did it with the orbs and did not like the end result.  After a white wash of sorts the painting entered a seriously ugly phase and I added the dragonfly.  Thankfully (I say this now but did not think it then) Alan reminded me I already had one dragonfly painting.  After I set with this for a while I realized I was playing it safe and going back to something known.   After a while I decided the canvas needed to be turned vertically and then the sea and sky appeared and began to take shape.  I really do like that underneath the sea lives a dragonfly too.

The first phases of the painting:

Spreading different colors on the canvas

Layering orbs of color

Sketch of a dragonfly on the canvas

Dragonfly

Stellar Debris

Bubbles, Curacao 2009

My name is Copper Penny,
child of turquoise waters and
indigo skies.

An algebraic formula of
harmonious delight.
Star dust fallen to the ocean;
Iron, calcium, and carbon
swirled in salty luminosity.

Alive and calm,
enveloped in a familial embrace,
the gurgle and echo of my own breath
a meditation sparking primordial memory.

Unfolding

All weekend I felt like fall.

I counted the moons and tides
and the lines of my own mapped body.

Today I feel like lapis
washed  soft and smooth
with veins of pyrite sparkling.

I am timeless and nameless,
in tune for this very moment
with the energy of all life.

This very well may be my fall.

In spring I was drunk on the green vine,
shatter proofed.
In the summer I was lustful and lazy
in the damp humidity of creation.

A praying mantis dead and broken on my door step,

the color of green-grey bark,
is placed on my mantle
along with the birds’ nest,
long empty,
and the remnants of lilies and a gum tree barb.

I see differently now.

There are stories unfolding.
Leaves fall like pages turning.

A Quiet Spot



Golden Leaves

I am still adjusting to the sounds of the city after moving from our quiet home nestled at the end of the street and flocked with trees on 2 sides of our property. It has the kind of quiet where you can hear your own breath catch when you look up at the night sky full of bright shining stars. Not as quiet as where my parents live in the country, but close.

Maple leaves lining the paths

The first few weeks of being in the city I found myself a little jumpy after my walks down the side walked streets full of cars zooming past, from the sirens of police cars and fire trucks and ambulances within close proximity and the population of winos that I occassionally ran into by the corner grocery. I wanted to experience the city but I also longed for a quiet spot amongst the spontaneous combustion of it all.   A place where I could go to experience nature in sight, sound, and smell.

Lovely Statues

The spot I found happens to be an old cemetery right across from our building and it is just lovely. Established in 1851, it is full of winding tree-lined lanes, ancient trees with presence and wisdom, statues, birdsong , and squirrels running around chasing each other. 





Hawk



 I was thrilled at seeing this magnificent hawk in the cemetery as well.  None of the pictures taken from my phone do him (or her) justice.  I watched him fly over to this leafless tree and followed him over there, all the time holding my breath and hoping he would not fly away.  He is definitely a city hawk because he let me get as close as I wanted, right under the limb he was on in fact and snap away with my camera phone. 

This is a blurry photo of him starring at me in wonder or perhaps annoyance.



Green in the Grey

Clover

Today the sky is the color of slate and there is a slow and steady drizzle falling.  The leaves that have been hanging on tightly to the trees are now coming down in droves but it was this patch of green clover that caught my eye this morning.  It reminds me of my brief trip to Washington State  and how the grey skies there made the greenery even more intense.