My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have. I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart. Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.
I believe poetry is very old. It’s very sacred. It wishes for a community. It’s a community ritual, certainly.
And that’s why, when you write a poem, you write it for anybody and everybody… It’s a gift to yourself, but it’s a gift to anybody who has a hunger for it.
Yesterday’s mornings predawn colors over Dixon Reservoir
Be still, my soul, and steadfast. Earth and heaven both are still watching though time is draining from the clock and your walk, that was confident and quick, has become slow.
So, be slow if you must, but let the heart still play its true part. Love still as once you loved, deeply and without patience. Let God and the world know you are grateful. That the gift has been given.
May Oliver, The Gift
I’m beginning to accept aging as more of a constant companion than someone to avoid. Nor do I live in a fantasy that it will go away. Aging now walks with me every day and walk at that slower pace. Some days I feel the grief of losing that walk that was confident and quick in my life, as Mary says in her poem. Yet, in this season of my life I am grateful for the gift of the life which has been given. What a gift it is to slow down, be present to life, fully experience and enjoy it. So my simple prayer this morning is that I may love as never before. The world needs more love! Why not let a spark begin with me.
I began a crock pot of 15 bean soup this morning. Well there are more than 15 beans in it, which will be ready about 1:00 pm if you wanna come over. May you have a wonderful day, filled with a heart of gratitude!
Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.
Mary Oliver
On my way home from the coffee shop I noticed the white clouds drifting amid the darker storm clouds. I felt they were worth the effort for a drive up to Pineridge Natural Area and experience nature’s art. I stood there, soaking it all in. It’s been a quiet morning. May be the calm before the thunderstorms which are forecasted for later this afternoon. As I stood there I knew in my heart that if I was to make a gratitude list on a daily basis it would be easy to put clouds on that list. Happy Friday!! Next up is July. (I know I’ve posted this poem before but it’s good enough to post again, much like cloud photos.)
Ten times a day something happens to me like this – some strengthening throb of amazement – some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.
Mary Oliver
The sky looked promising this morning so I grabbed my camera, made a chai and headed out the door. I also knew that we are expecting rain later today and possibly turning to snow after midnight which is an indication of a colorful sunrise. I was not disappointed. The temperature was a wonderful 50 degrees. After taking a few images the wind began to pick up and clouds began moving in. In the distance a woodpecker hammered on a tree. I watched a solo pelican drift across the waters of Dixon Reservoir. And, the meadowlarks sang to me.
This image of the predawn colors is from the same spot but was taken 8 minutes earlier than the image above. Demonstrates how nature is continuously creating. May you stay attentive and have a blessed day!
Now through the white orchard my little dog romps, breaking the new snow with wild feet. Running here running there, excited, hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins until the white snow is written upon in large, exuberant letters, a long sentence, expressing the pleasures of the body in this world. Oh, I could not have said it better
The Storm by Mary Oliver
Winter weather is the word for the day, receiving the 3-4 inches promised. It is loaded with moisture and making road conditions bad. It was 18 degrees at about 8:30 am and not expecting to be above 22 degrees. I call that cold and the perfect day to stay in and eat leftover vegetable soup, unless your Mary Oliver’s dog.
“Sometimes I think, were I just a little rougher made, I would go altogether to the woods—to my work entirely, and solitude, a few friends, books, my dogs, all things peaceful, ready for meditation and industry—if for no other reason than to escape the heart-jamming damages and discouragements of the worlds mean spirits. But, no use. Even the most solitudinous of us is communal by habit, and indeed by commitment to the bravest of our dreams, which is to make a moral world. The whirlwind of human behavior is not to be set aside.”
Mary Oliver
When I feel the heart-jamming damages and discouragements of the worlds mean spirits, I too wish to run to the woods, or in my case the natural areas. I would also include my journals, fountain pens, camera and chocolate to her list. Yet, I’m aware of my need to not set aside but live within the whirlwind of human behavior. Who knows, I could be someone else’s whirlwind. However, there are those times when I need to go the woods and connect with nature just so I can return and face the whirlwind of human behavior. Maybe I also need to be a little rougher made. Hope you had a good day.
