It is so far below beneath the noise it is hard to hear.
A scent wafting into consciousness that wasn’t discerned because of the clatter. The nuances in the hues of daybreak or the colors at sunset. Are you too preoccupied with the clamor in your head to notice? Can you free yourself from the grips of your past, at least for a moment, and take a breath in the present?
Nature’s free gifts fill a hungry soul. But life’s challenges can interfere with absorbing her wonders; the rustle of a leaf falling, the bird chirping near-by, the locusts still humming in the distance, a tree frog who nestled next to my coffee cup on the deck…
Find ways to come out of the din to the light of the present. Do it over and over and again. The whispering’s of the soul will be heard…
As the days shorten and the wind blows the studio beckons. After months away it feels good to be back with new ideas. This base is a ceramic flower pot found at a garage sale for three bucks. Samuel made a wooden top from treated lumber. Cory, my son in Boston, enlarged a simple design that I traced on top. It makes a very nice table for a cup of coffee on the little deck…
Fall is affecting me as it usually does though the hope sprung that this time it wouldn’t. The sun with its warmth has soothed my soul while sitting mornings on the patio, sometimes for long luxurious periods before rising to do other morning tasks. It will hard to give that up along with walks in the meadow where the stillness and warm sun brought centeredness and peace.
Fall comes and with it I fall.
The solution is to be in the body. Be there with the negative thoughts which come fast and hard. Confront them. It takes work and more work than usual. Be aware of the body and be in it. You cannot escape yourself.
I feel such peace and stillness. There has not been a time when I’ve felt such calm nor connectedness within my being. I cherish this reprieve, this period of quiet happiness.
The unusual heat was swept away with the wind as leaves swirled. The walk near the creek crunches heavily as the thick carpet of newly fallen leaves crackles under the weight of my feet. Capris are replaced by sweat pants as the temperature dips from 90 to 60 and the change brings relief even though the clouds hide the sun.
The air is full of sweet earthy composting as the fruits of summer decay, the scent going straight to my core. Snapping back to Now, my eyes feast on the rusts, golds, and yellows as the lush greens wither and die. Soon the trees will be bare but there are other delights to be enjoyed as each season brings its unique smorgasbord of treats if one is aware enough to take it in.
Often during the day my tendency to be ahead of where I am causes me to internally speak, slow down. Be with what you are doing in this moment. Because I’m always rushing ahead of where I am to the destination, but then there is another. Now is the destination. What you are doing at this moment is where you need to be.
photos by Patricia
Sleep comes night after night and the days feel so much more satisfying and happy. This tranquil period is cherished. Walking early before the unusual 90 degree heat descends, the stillness feels like a dream world. The only sounds are locusts and crickets, the chorus heightening as each day becomes hotter.
The fullness of being with such peace is cherished. The only intrusions are my negative thoughts but that is looked on as a lesson in self-discipline. Some are dissuaded but others just run through and out.
Each morning a thick pink fog burns off as the cool night warms with the morning sun. After the red ball rises and warmth trickles in, all windows are shut tight to the hot day. At suppertime they are opened and box fans suck in the chilly night air. By morning the thick quilt has been pulled up to our noses.
The once yellowy meadow dried and purple erupted in clumps. By the creek vast stillness sinks in deep as a long breath escapes while leaning back in the chair. Two enormous carp vie for the sweet grass where the water has overflowed due the beaver’s business at readying for winter by reinforcing the dam.
This sweet reprise can’t last, but while here is wholly appreciated.
Forgive: When a person decides to satisfy their lust using a child’s body, their actions are not forgivable. If one does not forgive the unforgivable how do you move on? By unclenching the clawed, hairy fist of the beast from my heart, squeezing it so tight I could hardly breathe or function. Rage, hate and anxiety ruled my life.
It took years to release the grip of each finger, blood flowing smoother until each sticky claw was off. The beast slipped back into the murky black depths of the scum topped lake. My precious heart was free and once again able to gently pump blood to the extremities, pure, clear and at peace.
Yet the beast rears it’s ugly head at times. In present day scenarios hurts occur. Some run deep reminiscent of wounds unhealed that never will. My heart becomes grasped by hate, anger and resentment.
Help me to forgive. Release me from this. The call to the source within that universally connects us all to each other helps set me on the path to peace. So easily my heart is disrupted needing to be soothed.
Compassion and kindness erupt while walking the yellowy meadow. Tears fall for the child held down, the child despised by the adult me..
photos by Patricia
Freedom is an odd word. My thoughts are a powerful prison. Negative thoughts flow like an endless march. The taste of freedom when positivity arises makes me yearn for more. It does not come naturally.
Bounded by invisible chains of silence that protects the family unit caged me. Separating from the family of origin did not release the cement block of silence which stifled my being gagging all parts except hate, bitterness, revenge and rage.
Freedom from repetitive negative thoughts about myself began to occur once my truth was spoken. Freedom, that’s freedom. Childhood beliefs about my core badness were questioned deep down where it counts. The judge and jury ruled that harshness was to be overruled and the innocent shall go free with kindness and compassion.
The binding chains of my childhood wrapped my thoughts about life, living, being and who I am into twisted rope that I hung myself on. There was no way out. Attempts to flee were discouraged. The horrors were unleashed one by one because once tasting freedom, real freedom, I wanted more. The origin family rejects the truth discarding me with it.
Pulling up courage like armor strong yet warm, moments of extraordinary peace settled in my core radiating outward. Freedom, to breath, to be in the moment…safe. To allow myself the freedom to belong just as everyone else does. Others take this human right for granted. There are those who never had it.
Buried in concrete my shame became me. Freedom to speak allowed escape into a life worth living, a real person who had a right to be here with special traits, talents, thoughts and feelings. The path to my heart, body and soul was illuminated.
No one holds me hostage now.