
It’s begun.
The colors curled and dry. The tourists hungry and driven to brighten their lives. The cool night air scented with fire pits and ions, calling them to inhale and gather their soup recipes.
Thoughts words and actions from Grandma
It’s begun.
The colors curled and dry. The tourists hungry and driven to brighten their lives. The cool night air scented with fire pits and ions, calling them to inhale and gather their soup recipes.
All that you want to say, to speak, to birth. Every expression of every conclusion you’ve come to now grows, and brings life ever changing as clusters of thoughts emanating from your lips, entangled and sewn as jewels on a string.
Sometimes our realizations come as a whole that we can see from any angle and all angles. Complete thoughts have to be dissected into manageable portions that we can communicate or we end up just jumbling our thoughts and our words. These moments are precious and important.
In meditation we find the string that holds the jewels.
Finding balance in society so that you are in alignment with what is expected and so that your shadow falls within the dried needles of another.
Rusty comes from a long line of firefighters. His Irish heritage not only gives him his red hair and blue eyes but also a passion for helping out in an emergency. Most of his family are fighting fires in the city. He’s out west trying to save the big trees.
We’re so thankful that he and others are willing to risk their lives every day. Thank you.
Mike is still working remotely. Normally he’d be out on his bike right after work during the cool September early evenings, but since he’s been home all he can do is think about projects.
Instead of fresh air and exercise he’s spackling and painting, sanding and hammering, and drawing and measuring. His youngest daughter is finally off to college and since he’s not sure what the school year will look like with COVID he’s been fixing up her room, and the living room, and the kitchen, and every other place he and his wife have decided to update. Like an octopus fixing it’s nest in stormy water, Mike has a hand in everything.
Mushrooms like butterflies partaking sweet nectar their underside soft coral required a pause, a reflective moment, an eternal moment. Thank you.
Grandchild number 5 came into the world this past week. Her sweet tender feminine presence, like soft coral, lights up the room. Welcome little one. The world is a bit messy right now. Hope you brought extra powers with you!
Bud and Tina were close. They’d been that way since junior year in high school. Even though Tina went off to the west coast to pursue her acting career she kept in touch mostly by social media, but on occasion, usually in a semi drunken state, she’d call him just to say hi. Bud almost seemed to know she was going to call just as he knew that some day they’d be more than friends.
That day has not yet come, but after this weekend’s meet up in Meredith he was confident that she realized that they have a very deep connection. Tina admitted to him that she feels his warmth and loving touch right down to her roots. We’ll see!
Moss and saplings cover and intrude under a canopy of blue light. Uncomfortable frustrating experiences creating a space of knowing, a kind of wisdom. Wisdom based on fear, making you mindless and almost superstitious.
The ugly wisdom.
The kind that compels you to park in the same area, sit in the same area and walk the same trails because they work, they are familiar. The burl, the reaction, that brings you to respond with a quick no so that you don’t say yes.
The ugly wisdom
Soon comes a gentle breeze expelling last nights rain off your leaves. Soon comes light and with it change.
Samantha was very popular. It seemed she had a new date every Saturday night. She knew that if she sucked in her stomach and contorted her body in just the right way her email would be flooded with likes from the dating site she used.
Dale took this shot. Up until today she wondered how Sam managed to find so many available men. Now it was obvious. Dale was quite attractive but always the person behind the camera. She had an eye for light and balance, and enjoyed the way her photos came out. She’ll never bend or shape herself into what someone might want and because of that she didn’t date much, which was ok because she didn’t want a lot of dates. She wanted just one date.
In the damp humid air fungus emerges from the forest floor, ascending, growing tags like shells. Each one a moment when you allowed yourself to accept limited love and to be less than who you really are because it was not enough or it was too much.