My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, coffee life, spirituality and the mystery of it all.
Joan Chittister suggests that “we must be a gift to the world some way, somehow, for someone.” I’m not sure how many people see themselves as a gift to the world. I’m not sure how many see themselves negatively and therefore not worthy to be a gift. I’m not sure how many see themselves narcistically as the gift to the world and therefore unable to see themselves as a gift they could be. As I pondered those questions this morning I wondered what our world would look like if we did accept ourselves as a gift to this world in some way, somehow, for someone. Would we know peace, serenity, love, compassion, tolerance, generosity, and see ourselves as equals, no one better than or less than. I would love to see the world know the gifts we are to the world and one another! Happy Sunday!!
This afternoon I needed time away from the city, again, so I drove out to the eastern plains for a bit of physical silence and solitude. I spent several hours out there, actually. My last stop was this old cottonwood. I look up to this Old Soul who has stood guard over this field and the horizon for many years now. If you’ve followed me for any length of time you have seen several images of this Elder, as I check on them often. What made me stop and take this image was some journaling I did an hour earlier. I am aware of the challenge it is to capture images without the sign of man involved. The Old Soul or Romantic in me has often wondered how I would experience this land with its silence, its solitude and the vastness of it 200-300 years ago. So today I listed a few things in my journal that would not have been here then. There would be no roads, no vehicles, no air pollution, no oil well pumps, no fences, no bar ditches where someone has dumped an old couch, no jets overhead and their contrails, no plowed fields, no irrigation systems, no power lines, no cell towers, no wind turbines, no fields of solar panels, no housing developments, no warehouses full of stuff, no dairy farms, no buried gas lines, no water towers, no farms, and the list could go on. And, one more thing that would be missing would be the sound pollution coming from man’s machinery. I guess what I really was aware of today was how invasive man has been in nature, wondering how many people seem unaware, and may even believe it has always been this way. The sun has set and darkness moves in. It is time for me to publish this, fill my bowl with popcorn and read for awhile. May you stay safe and warm and enjoy your weekend.
Nothing in all of creation is so like God as silence.
Meister Eckhart
Scenes like this do not require a drumroll or symphony to speak to the soul, we hear it in the silence of our hearts.
Update: Progress is being made, but at its pace not mine. I’m seeing where patience is one of the many lessons of our older years. I am being as active as possible but not cause any harm to the incision. When I removed the NPWT patch the incision was much larger than I expected. It must be 5-6 inches long and have well over 20 staples. I’d post a photo but…. you can take my word for it. I hope you have had a good weekend and enjoy the coming week!
Silence is the lost art in a society made of noise.
Joan Chittister
We were at 14 degrees this morning at about 5: 45 am. We did warm up to 42 degrees. I am not complaining as I’m aware most of our nation is in a cold spell. It’s been a good day. I made it to Mugs for coffee this morning then had lunch with my friend Duane. I’ve spent the rest of this day at home practicing the art of silence. This sunrise image was taken a year ago at Pineridge Natural Area where I go to experience more silence. I hope you had a wonderful Monday.
The gift of life, the secret of life, is that it must be developed from the inside out, from what we bring to it from within ourselves, not from what we collect or consume as we go through it, not even from what we experience in the course of it.
I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.
Albert Einstein
I embraced solitude in my youth while at the same time I was blessed to have close friends and savor memories of times with them. But I remember spending time alone where I used my imagination to create worlds I could control but also kept me from living in reality. In my youth the reality of the world had people in it that did not think or see as I thought and therefore my youth has painful memories. I can recall the wounds inflicted from bullies and the adults who would find fault when I didn’t think as they did and even a God, who I was taught, was finding fault in me. I remember believing there was something wrong with me if I didn’t want to be a part of the crowd and so I would fearfully make the effort to try and fit in. So it is in gratitude that my years of maturity have allowed me to enjoy the delicious gift of healthy solitude in my life while also living in healthy relationships and the gift to have both.
The gift of a ladybug and yes, they do have a heart.
There is a quiet light that shines in every heart. It draws no attention to itself though it is always secretly there. It is what illuminates our minds to see beauty, our desire to seek possibility and our hearts to love life. Without this subtle quickening our days would be empty and wearsome, and no horizon would ever awaken our longing. Our passion for life is quietly sustained from somewhere in us that is wedded to the energy and excitement of life. This shy inner light is what enables us to recognize and receive our very presence here as blessing. We enter the world as strangers who all at once become heirs of a harvesting of memory, spirit and dream that has long proceeded us and will now unfold nourish and sustain us. The gift of the world is our first blessing.
Plant seeds of happiness, hope, success, and love; it will all come back to you in abundance. This is the law of nature.
Steve Maraboli
Feeling restless so I ventured out to Pineridge Natural Area again yesterday afternoon. When I turned off the engine I found myself surrounded by quiet. The water was low in Dixon reservoir. Seagulls silently floated over the water. The rabbitbrush swayed in the gentle breeze. Fall colors of golden leaves and brown grass stood in contrast to the now blue sky filled with clouds that silently drifted over the meadow. As soon as I began to write in my journal, the sun broke through the clouds spreading its warmth over my body, and I smiled. As words appeared on the pages they became the seeds of happiness, hope, success, and love. Gradually my restlessness shifted into a much needed peace and serenity. These times in nature on a beautiful October afternoon have a way of doing that. I took this image just before leaving. And if you’re interested, the directions for this medication is to: take as needed.
The places in which we are seen and heard are holy places. They remind us of our value as human beings. They give us the strength to go on. Eventually they may even help us to transform our pain into wisdom.
Rachel Naomi Remen
After a conversation with my friend, Jeff, about the above quote I did some google search on the word “holy.” I found the Hebrew word for “holy” is kodesh, which comes from the root word “Kadash” and in simple terms means to be set apart for a specific purpose. I personally like that meaning! But for some of us the word “holy” or even “sacred” refers to a connection with religion and we can recoil. I have been wounded by religion in my past. But I am realizing there has been enough healing that holy for me does not leave a negative reaction. I also believe Remen’s quote is focusing on the “places” and that we are seen and heard whether we call it holy, sacred, or whatever. I can easily refer to several places I connect with as beautiful places, enchanting places, magical places, inviting places, places for community, places of solitude and quiet, places of healing or forgiveness, places to be seen and heard. These places can be in nature, a coffee shop, my condo, my body, an open prairie, a mountain meadow and the places the story in a book can take us. I find myself grateful in embracing all these places, whatever adjective we place in front of it. Thanks, my friend, for the stirring conversation that led me to journal but mostly blog about this. It has been magical day today, perfect day for bicycling.
