I’m taking a lesson today from the pelicans I watched in flight this weekend. A short period of flapping of the wings and working on forward momentum, then effortlessly gliding; catching the draft of the air around and silently soaring.

I’m taking a lesson today from the pelicans I watched in flight this weekend. A short period of flapping of the wings and working on forward momentum, then effortlessly gliding; catching the draft of the air around and silently soaring.

“When she was growing up in rural Virginia she would be out working in the fields and she said she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape and she said it was like a thunderous train of air and it would come barreling down at her over the landscape. And she said that when she felt it coming – because it would shake the earth under her feet – she knew that she had only one thing to do at that point and that was to, in her words, ‘run like hell’ and she would run like hell to the house, being chased by this poem. And the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and pencil fast enough so when it thundered through her she could collect it and grab it on the page.”
- Elizabeth Gilbert at TED on a Conversation with American Poet Ruth Stone

“When she was growing up in rural Virginia she would be out working in the fields and she said she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape and she said it was like a thunderous train of air and it would come barreling down at her over the landscape. And she said that when she felt it coming – because it would shake the earth under her feet – she knew that she had only one thing to do at that point and that was to, in her words, ‘run like hell’ and she would run like hell to the house, being chased by this poem. And the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and pencil fast enough so when it thundered through her she could collect it and grab it on the page.”

- Elizabeth Gilbert at TED on a Conversation with American Poet Ruth Stone

What is this human thing we do in taking things for granted? The everyday living, breathing, fiber of our experience?  Our years together have woven themselves into my fabric. Gratitude doesn’t begin to capture acknowledgment of the gift. It’s something beyond - perhaps prayer.

What is this human thing we do in taking things for granted? The everyday living, breathing, fiber of our experience?  Our years together have woven themselves into my fabric. Gratitude doesn’t begin to capture acknowledgment of the gift. It’s something beyond - perhaps prayer.

The First Dream
The Wind is ghosting around the house tonight and as I lean against the door of sleep I begin to think about the first person to dream, how quiet he must have seemed the next morning as the others stood around the fire draped in the skins of animals talking to each other only in vowels, for this was long before the invention of consonants. He might have gone off by himself to sit on a rock and look into the mist of a lake as he tried to tell himself what had happened, how he had gone somewhere without going, how he had put his arms around the neck of a beast that the others could touch only after they had killed it with stones, how he felt its breath on his bare neck. Then again, the first dream could have come to a woman, though she would behave, I suppose, much the same way, moving off by herself to be alone near water, except that the curve of her young shoulders and the tilt of her downcast head would make her appear to be terribly alone, and if you were there to notice this, you might have gone down as the first person to ever fall in love with the sadness of another.
-Billy Collins

The First Dream

The Wind is ghosting around the house tonight 
and as I lean against the door of sleep 
I begin to think about the first person to dream, 
how quiet he must have seemed the next morning 

as the others stood around the fire 
draped in the skins of animals 
talking to each other only in vowels, 
for this was long before the invention of consonants. 

He might have gone off by himself to sit 
on a rock and look into the mist of a lake 
as he tried to tell himself what had happened, 
how he had gone somewhere without going, 

how he had put his arms around the neck 
of a beast that the others could touch 
only after they had killed it with stones, 
how he felt its breath on his bare neck. 

Then again, the first dream could have come 
to a woman, though she would behave, 
I suppose, much the same way, 
moving off by herself to be alone near water, 

except that the curve of her young shoulders 
and the tilt of her downcast head 
would make her appear to be terribly alone, 
and if you were there to notice this, 

you might have gone down as the first person 
to ever fall in love with the sadness of another.

-Billy Collins

Uphill Climb
One of those uphill climb kind of days, when things are moving at a crawl and are more difficult than I’d like for them to be.  At the bottom of the staircase, beginning the assent, where I can only see right in front of me. Slowly, deliberately, deeply breathing.

Uphill Climb

One of those uphill climb kind of days, when things are moving at a crawl and are more difficult than I’d like for them to be.  At the bottom of the staircase, beginning the assent, where I can only see right in front of me. Slowly, deliberately, deeply breathing.

 
Forgiveness does not mean forgetting, but forgiveness changes the way we remember. 
Forgiving is first and foremost the healing of our own hearts.
~ Henri J. M. Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

Forgiveness does not mean forgetting, but forgiveness changes the way we remember. 

Forgiving is first and foremost the healing of our own hearts.

~ Henri J. M. Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

Find Someone to Riff With
I attended a workshop that went to the core of collaboration, using music as the vehicle to catalyze change - Improv as the way to get there.  One of the greatest take-ways for me was making sure that you have someone to “riff” with.  
Miriam Webster defines a riff as “a rapid energetic often improvised verbal outpouring”.
Magic happens when you have someone to riff with - on anything, about anything, about nothing at all.  It opens the channel to creativity and finds places within you that you had no idea existed.  

Find Someone to Riff With

I attended a workshop that went to the core of collaboration, using music as the vehicle to catalyze change - Improv as the way to get there.  One of the greatest take-ways for me was making sure that you have someone to “riff” with.  

Miriam Webster defines a riff as “a rapid energetic often improvised verbal outpouring”.

Magic happens when you have someone to riff with - on anything, about anything, about nothing at all.  It opens the channel to creativity and finds places within you that you had no idea existed.  

Until the cool, November day when we stepped into our new house in the mountains, I never really heard silence. I thought silence was a void; an absence of sound, something that quietly settles into you. Instead, silence is booming sound with a voice that wakes you up to everything.

Until the cool, November day when we stepped into our new house in the mountains, I never really heard silence. I thought silence was a void; an absence of sound, something that quietly settles into you. Instead, silence is booming sound with a voice that wakes you up to everything.


CHANGE
How do I embrace not only the change, but the freefall that must accompany it?  What if our quest for safety is a crock of shit and the freefall is the moment of epiphany?  What if the freefall is the liberator that illuminates our way and a safe landing is the impediment that blocks all life?  What if our challenge is to let go and never grab back on again?

CHANGE

How do I embrace not only the change, but the freefall that must accompany it?  What if our quest for safety is a crock of shit and the freefall is the moment of epiphany?  What if the freefall is the liberator that illuminates our way and a safe landing is the impediment that blocks all life?  What if our challenge is to let go and never grab back on again?

Fear grows in darkness; if you think there’s a bogeyman around, turn on the light. 
-Dorothy Thompson

Fear grows in darkness; if you think there’s a bogeyman around, turn on the light.

-Dorothy Thompson

Learn how to exhale, the inhale will take care of itself. 
~Carla Melucci Ardito

Learn how to exhale, the inhale will take care of itself. 

~Carla Melucci Ardito

Fall Reflections

The title “Reflections Back To Me” came to me one day around a book project which would allow women to see themselves through the lens of the camera, in a way that they may have never seen themselves before.  I also called my blog “Reflections Back to Me”,  having no idea how much it would open my eyes - Everything around me is now reflected back to me with such an intense visual and emotional impact. I’ve been re-awakened to the fact that fiery aliveness - vivid and powerful -  is all around me. All I have to do is stop and look. The camera helps me to do that.  

There is a sense of deep passage for me this Fall.  A Sunday walk captured the cycle of movement from the explosive growth of Spring and Summer into the shutting down into Fall, where the warmth of the colors; the end of one thing and the beginning of another, signals the story of a season of quieting.  

Over and over, we have to go back to the beginning.  We should not be ashamed of this.  It is good.  It’s like drinking water.
-Natalie Goldberg

Over and over, we have to go back to the beginning.  We should not be ashamed of this.  It is good.  It’s like drinking water.

-Natalie Goldberg