Tag: love

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Rooted in Nature

Ancient Pine

“If we surrendered to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees. ”

~Rainer Maria Rilke

Can we live joyfully in harmony with nature?

Most modern city dwellers are completely out of touch with the cycles of nature.  And we have created such a long path between natural cause and effect, that it is difficult to see what we are doing to ourselves.  It is far from obvious to a suburban family that the water coming from their tap started out as rain or snowmelt flowing into a nearby reservoir.  The water flowing from their tap seems endless no matter what the weather does.

Most of us have no idea where the wheat was grown that made our morning bagel, much less if it was a good year or bad for the wheat crop.  Did river water diverted to a low reservoir near Denver hurt the wheat crop in Garden City?  The trail from cause to effect is so long that the average person has no idea what effect their actions have on the natural environment. And this disconnect is at the root of many modern problems.

We have become blind, deaf and dumb to our role in the natural world.

No matter how much we try to tame and “civilize” this world with all of our technical wizardry – and no matter how smart we think we have become – we are still animals governed by the laws of nature. And I wonder what is truly civilized about dishonoring and destroying the planet that feeds us?

Insulating and removing mankind from nature is not the answer; it is the problem! From disastrous weather changes like the recent floods and typhoons to radioactive pollution so toxic it will haunt our grandchildren for generations, we end up hurting ourselves every single time we choose to ignore the laws of nature.

The answer is to reconnect with the natural world.
The answer is to shut up and listen to Mother Nature.

I want to embrace and understand my natural connections. And I want to honor the beautiful and gracious mother that provides for me;  I want to pause and be grateful for the snowfall that becomes the water I drink.  I want to spy the first shoots of pale green prairie grass pushing up out of the spring earth, and remember that the cattle herd on the hill will consume them and turn them into food for me.  And I want to take the time to honor the trees that stand silent in the meadow and offer the oxygen I breathe.

I want to pause each day to acknowledge the many gifts Mother Nature provides for me.

☾ ☽

Thank you, Mother

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Elemental Blessings

celtic knot

Celtic Blessings to You

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite spirit to you.

✧ ✧ ✧

May your holiday be filled with laughter, love and joy.

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Daughter of the Mother

Mom and Me
Mom and Me

My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2006. She made her final transition last week, after years of inhabiting both this world and the world beyond. This poem is for you Mom:

Daughter of the Mother
 

I am the daughter of the mother who sees beneath

Raven’s eye shows me the way through

To the other side where down is up

And time can stand still

Until the time is right.

 

I am the daughter of the mother who sings in my bones

Drum song carries me out of now

To a place where fiery dragons roam,

Mother Moon dances with her Sun

And Spirit Bear guides me home.

~Nancy Lankston

☾ ☽

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Smoke and Stone

Smoke and Stone
Smoke and Stone

I sit

breathing out my worry

and my wonder

as I silently ask the Goddess

what exactly is compassion?

and can I offer it to myself?

I sit

breathing out my fear

am I brave enough

to love

like a Boddhisattva

without reason, without end?

I sit

watching the Goddess

smoke dances, we sit

suddenly, the stone of me cracks

there is nowhere to hide

I am love.

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Dancing with Dad

My Dad in his 20's
My Dad in his 20’s

My dad passed away a month ago. He had struggled to hang on and stay here long past the point of misery, so his passing was a relief in many ways. But there are still days when I have images of him in my head all day, and I miss him a lot. And other days I don’t think of him at all. Grief is a strange beast.

This morning I remembered a time many years ago when my dad tried to teach me how to jitterbug. Tried is the operative word here – I never could hold my torso still and get my feet to do what his were doing so perfectly. In my defense, I am not known for my coordination. Besides, I had a glass of wine before the dance instruction began!

Dad loved to tell people the tale of how his Navy buddy taught him to jitterbug. I always loved that story;  Dad had joined the Navy at 18 and shipped out to California for basic training just as WWII ended.  He went from a tiny town in southern Illinois to suddenly being in the Navy on a ship with hundreds of other guys. I imagine that it was all quite a shock for a young geeky country boy. One of his older shipmates took my dad under his wing. He helped my dad settle in to life in the Navy. And he also taught Dad how to jitterbug so he could impress the ladies.

I love the image of my skinny 18 year old Dad with his baby face, dressed in baggy jeans and a work shirt, dancing the jitterbug with some big beefy guy in the tightly cramped quarters of a battleship! LOL  Life truly is stranger than fiction. The dance lessons definitely paid off  because  40 years later my dad was still an amazing jitterbugger.   🙂

I miss Dad. I wish I had danced with him more. This morning, as I flashed on images of the handful of times that we danced together,   I heard Dad’s voice in my ear. He said, “We’ll dance again.” And I suddenly saw an image of two energies dancing and flowing together and then apart, together and then apart. And as the energies danced, they morphed and changed shape, but I could tell that it was still the energy of Dad and I dancing together.

I think that image of my energy dance with Dad is actually a great lesson about the rhythm of life and death. We are energies that come together to dance on Earth, then part in death. Then we will come together again in a new place and dance a new dance. Over and over, we dance together in one form or another.

Later in the morning, I hike up one of my favorite trails, still thinking about my dad and missing him. I stop on a mesa to rest awhile. As I sit under the pines writing,  I am startled by a hawk’s cry above me. I look up and see two hawks soaring and spiraling just above my rocky perch. The hawks appear to be dancing together on the wind. It’s a beautiful dance,.

Another memory surfaces as I watch the hawks;  I flash on the image of my dad dancing with my mom.  In my memory, they are both in their late sixties and have been together for over 40 years. When they danced together, they were so closely in synch that it was like watching a single body move and flow to the music.

The hawks are gone when I next look up from my writing. But a pair of young deer soon stumble upon me. They freeze for a moment. But when they realize that I wont harm them, they relax and forage for food a few feet behind me.  Life dances on all around me.

I love you Dad. And I miss you. I miss your wide open country boy smile. I miss your stories. I just plain miss you!  But I know in my heart it was time for you to move on.  And I am ok –  I know that you and I will dance together again soon.

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It’s the Little Things

It's the Little Things

Last month, I took part in a class called “Getting Naked” that Julia Fehrenbacher offered online. Every day for 40 days, Julia gave us food for thought and creative writing assignments.  It was amazing how much I learned about myself just from getting naked every day for 40 days. I highly recommend the class if Julia runs it again.

One of the first Getting Naked assignments that Julia gave us was to log 25 things we were grateful for each and every day.  When I first received this assignment, my reaction was, “Ugh – that’s crazy! I don’t have the time or energy to do that!”  I come from a family of pessimists; my parents were impressionable little kids during the Depression and never completely got over living on the edge of survival. Eighty years later, gratitude is still not something that flows naturally in my family. But I have been slowly working at getting more optimistic and more grateful. So, on second thought, I decided to try this gratitude log for a few days and see what happened.

Noticing and recording my gratitudes went smoothly for the first few days. It didn’t take very long and I actually enjoyed coming up with a list of things I was grateful for.  But then, on about day 5, I hit a wall. I became completely and totally resistant to writing down ANYTHING else that I was grateful for, much less 25 items a day.  So, I stopped.  I stopped completely. And after a few days, I noticed how crappy my mood was. And how crappy it stayed.  I was a complete whiny bitch!

About day 9, after days of no gratitude log and much complaining, a quiet little voice inside me began poking at me insistently. My little voice  gently suggested that I focus on gratitude again.  But I’m stubborn – very stubborn sometimes.  It took my inner knowing 4-5 days to convince me to start logging gratitudes again.  But I finally did. And I felt better! I actually felt a lot better every time I sat down and logged 25.  So much better that some days I would log 30 or 40 or 50 items in my gratitude log.

And  now, even though my Getting Naked class ended a few weeks ago, I continue to log gratitudes for at least a few minutes every day.  So what happened? Why would I take the time to do this gratitude log every day?  Here’s what I’ve discovered about gratitude; it can completely change how your life goes.  Oprah was right.  🙂

I know it sounds trite and silly. And I don’t want you to think that I’m becoming a Pollyanna or anything (Pollyanna’s are definitely not allowed in my family). But focusing on what I’m grateful for softens me up in ways I can’t even put into words.  For one thing, this gratitude log gets my mind out of the perpetual worry and whine track that I am so prone to fall into. It also opens my heart to what I love about the world. This one little thing helps my day just plain flow better.

Now when I wake up cranky, I find myself actively looking for something to be grateful for right away; I have learned that if I can “reset” my awareness to gratitude setting, my entire day will shift for the better. What I focus on truly does increase.

Here are a few little things that I’m grateful for today:

Brigit’s hurt paw is healing – no more limp!
a wonderful vet in Lyons
walking by the river with Brigit again
talking with my friend JW yesterday
time to write
something to write about
hummingbirds at the feeder
Buffalo ridge outside my window
hubby and daughter coming home tonight
my spiritual ‘sister’, JP
friendly checker at the market in Lyons
finding gorgeous organic kale at the market
thunder rumbling – a cool rain is approaching
seeing the stars last night
the lavender bushes in my yard
smell of pine in the air every evening
it’s still green here in July
writing of Celtic mystic Tom Cowan
watching my kids grow into adults
cycles and rhythms of the seasons
my husband David’s voice on the phone
my daughter Izze’s laugh
my son Henry texting me and telling me what’s up with him
granite rocks – I love granite!
hot chai in a mug
little surprise cottonwood tree that rooted in the garden
a sudden mountain rainstorm this afternoon
Getting Naked with you

Ahhh, I feel better.  It truly is the little things that make the most difference in my life.

☾ ☽

How about you?  What are you grateful for today?