Orion’s Return

So fellow travelers, a few weeks ago I received a reminder from Earth Sky (an astronomy news site I subscribe to) that Orion will be returning to the evening sky.

Orion is the hero of our dark winter skies, shining valiantly through the bittercold nights which seem to last an eternity. His reappearance is my reminder that Light prevails even in the season of deep cold darkness.  And ever since my good friend Kate wrote a poem which featured Orion, he also stands as a reminder of the gift of solid friendships; to see him rising on a cold night fills my heart with warm memories. Ours is that rare kind of friendship which picks up right where we last hugged goodbye, impervious to time or distance.

Sunset view from one of our adventures

Today in honor of her solar return ( aka birthday ) the stars at dawn gave me these words to wish her well.

Orion returns 
behind him winter lurks but
friendship keeps us warm

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready
You can follow Kate’s poetic journeys at her blog Life with Horace

Poem: Speakeasy

So fellow travelers, clarity is a gift beyond measure in writing .

One of the many benefits of being part of a creative tribe is what we call the “ripple effect” of sharing inspiration from each other’s work. At times the dynamic exchange of encouragement and energy will bring insights which shift my perception of something I am working just enough to reveal how something I was struggling to express. This morning a post from my friend Tom Atkins did exactly that for me by defining something I experience when I am at a show with my favorite band.

The context is slightly different but the reference of being in a safe space where we can “spill ourselves is precisely why I go to as many concerts and events as possible. Each time it is an unburdening of doubt, healing of sorrows and an infusion of hope made possible by faith in the ultimate power of Unconditional Love.

The original post is shared here

Quarry House

Speakeasy #1.JPGSpeakeasy

A single red light at the end of a brightly lit alleyway,
your secret place,
a place of release,
more about the safety than the alcohol,
where everything spills out.

About this poem

We all need that safe place to be, to talk, to spill ourselves out.

The painting, one of mine, is also called “Speakeasy” and inspired the poem.

Tom

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Stopping Time

So fellow travelers, fellow creative tribemate Deb German Young posted a photo from her recent travels to see Falling Water, the iconic Frank Llyod Wright house in Pennsylvania.

The image not only caught my attention, it literally stopped me mid-scroll and I gasped out loud. “What is it?” my husband inquired as we wound through traffic in downtown Portland. “Something amazing one of my friends posted on the creative page,” I said once the neurons in my brain unlocked. “Oh, ok” he responded in the matter of fact manner indicating he is fully acclimated to the “wow” moments which often occur when I check in with the creative page.

“It is as if you stopped time” I commented under Deb’s photo, tears welling in my eyes as I posted. This image, so delicate and powerful all at once, went straight through my heart, deep into my soul, calling up that thought.

Isn’t this part of why we take photos? Are they not attempts to capture a moment so when time takes its toll we can re-ignite the fading memory into the brillance of the present? At least for me this is true. I rely on the photos I have in my camera roll to help me write because my emotions are embedded in the images I capture. When I sit down to write, I need the images to bring me back to the moment so the words are more genuine.

Sometimes I have to remind myself to take fewer shots, and be more present in the experience. Over the years, as my aptitude for writing has developed, a modest confidence in my ability has allowed me step back from creative misgivings. Being intentional of when and why I take photos is becoming more habitual. Mindfulness makes everything, including creativity, flow with less resistance.

The tears in my eyes at that moment came from the emotions I am experiencing on this year’s visit. The sense of belonging has grown exponentially since last year. I just wrote about the weather factor, but as I have been crafting a post about my Switchfoot week in San Diego I am aware there is a bigger shift happening. The words to express it have not yet become coherent, but the moments I captured and stored in my camera roll are helping me get there.

Stay tuned.

Rainbow over Encinitas

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

… on a letter to the first owner of my second-hand dog

So fellow travelers, a guest post here from a fellow blogger and now rescue dog adopter whom I am blessed to also count as friend. Grab some tissues and be ready for your hearts to smile.

Dear Sir, Firstly, I’m so sorry for the anonymous nature of this salutation. It’s just that I don’t know your name. My name is Lisa Dingle, and I adopted your Bella nearly a month…

Source: … on a letter to the first owner of my second-hand dog

Birds Doing New Things

While I head out to clear snow (yes it’s still snowing on and off in March- ah Spring in Upstate NY) from my own backyard birdfeeders to keep the early spring migrants well fueled against the return of Winter-like temperatures I thought my Fellow Travelers might enjoy a trip to a bird sanctuary in warmer climates. Sylvia’s blog keeps my birding dreams alive through our long cold season.

Tonji and Sylvia's Wildlife Refuge

Sometimes we see birds as predictable creatures of habit. They have favorite perches that they return to day after day. Their behavior becomes familiar and part of the flow of the day.

This has become a familiar early morning sight. 5 White Breasted Woodswallows perched on top of this Agoho tree.

Other times we get to witness entirely new behavior. I thought it was unusual to see a Philippine Bulbul perched on the round pen. They usually hide inside the trees. What was it doing?

This looks to me like a young Philippine Bulbul. Based on the sounds, I think there was a nest inside the aratiles and this bird is one of the young from the nest.

The Philippine Bulbul was carefully, drop by drop, picking up dew from the fence posts.

I’ve never seen other birds do that on the fence posts before.

Soon there was a second…

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Journey

So fellow travelers, I find myself navigating airports, car rentals and unfamiliar highways this weekend on an unplanned journey

This is a trip prompted by a calling of the heart, a response to a feeling, an inner directive this is a time when hugs need to be given in person.

After two consecutive major winter storms which disrupted air travel and shutdown major roads in the Midwest and East Coast, Mother Nature blessed my flights here with clear weather.

Even with a snowy drive to reach my destination last night, the morning brought a cold but beautiful sunrise, complete with a halfmoon cookie in the sky.

The memorial I am here to attend is a tribute to a friend’s husband, a man I never met in person yet feel as if I now know well through the wonderful stories his colleagues and friends gave at the celebration.

And what a beautiful celebration this has been. A room full of so many people, of all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds, callings and professions all touched by one extraordinary human whose life has been dedicated to kindness, family and joy.

Oh yes, and pie

~ lots and lots of pie because he loves pie just as he loves others, all kinds are equally awesome.

“Loves”, in the present tense because as a family friend said in her tribute, the essence of who he was as a person, his energy, still is. She referenced the Law of Conservation of Energy, a basic principle of physics and her words proved true.

Love, kindness and joy filled that room, embraced my friend and her two young daughters, already working to mend their broken hearts. Their lives, forever changed, will go on supported and surrounded by the “bigger circle” he created for them.

Ducks at a park nearby.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

Successful Simplicity

Insight and something worth considering from a good friend , fellow writer and in many ways a mentor who makes a difference.

The Wisdom Letters

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This morning on my poetry blog, I posted the poem below:

Every. Thing.

Simple curved wood.
A few tacks.
Stain.
Shellac.

A place at the table
void of clutter.
A pair of pencils.

Enough.
No more.

In the next room a clock.
The pendulum swings silently.
Time is told.
No more.

Every.
thing.
tells you about
yourself,
about what is enough,
and if you poke at it,
why.

Simplicity and Minimalism are all the rage these days, but…

We are told how many books we should have, how to fold, what to cut out. The Ipod, that now nearly extinct music player that once dominated our life reduced a wall of audio equipment into a tiny little thing that fit in our pocket, with one of the great user interfaces of all time. In business circles, we are told to simplify, simplify, simplify, all while the world demands…

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The Miracle of Light

So fellow travelers, it has been a busy weekend filled with the final rounds of preparations for Christmas.

Residents scurry about our Christmas Village

In a little while we will visit some dear friends to share a meal and relish the laughter of excited children. Tomorrow we will chat via video or phone with family we hold far closer in our hearts than the many miles which separate us.

Downstairs, our humble little tree glows with lights and treasured ornaments carefully set in place by Favorite Youngest Daughter and a friend. Wrapped presents are gathering by the nativity which patiently waits for its final figures as we conclude my created tradition of candle nights. Favorite Youngest Daughter is sitting wrapped in a blanket on the couch watching the classic “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Her journey home has not been easy and today brought some heartache but as I said when I hugged her tight “All that matters is you are here, where you are so loved.”

Seeking solace, for heaven knows a mother’s heart aches when her daughters are hurting, I took our dog for a walk . A gentle snow is falling, quietly blanketing everything is the soft silence only snow can make.

Back at home, I opened several cards which recently arrived in the mail. One immediately recognizable photo taken by my dear friend and poet, Kate, brought a wave of glorious memories which washed away the sadness clouding my spirits. Gratitude filled my heart.

Just above the clouds 

The sun is always rising

 Hope’s within our reach

Photo of Mt. Monadnock, NH by Kate Rantilla
The cell phone capture of this beautiful card barely does it justice.

In one instant I was brought back to the joys of friends chasing light and finding connections through hours of shared creative adventures. Sisters of the soul, she calls us and indeed just knowing my friends are there fills my soul with the promise of hope.

Walk gently on the path my friends; may this season bring you peace.

Bookends

So fellow travelers, today marks the start of a new solar year in this grand adventure of life. Reflecting on the bookends of the first and last days

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Team Fairbanks-Rahalski at the summit of Pinnacle Peak Trail in Rainier National Park

I can see the origami of insights and growth created by the challenges weathered in-between two foundations: friends and family. As I embark fullspeed into the coming years of this sixth decade of solar returns I have my sights set on the adventures made possible by that foundation.

The road we travel

is made lighter by the Love

carried in our hearts

To all the beautiful points of Light in my community of family and friends here is a heartfelt haiku of gratitude for the love and support which has and will continue to bless my journey. You are the best gift anyone could ever receive.

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready

Fading West*

So fellow travelers, a friend who reads my blog posts commented on the line I used at the end of a recent entry. Their point was well taken.

“Nothing in (my) life would ever be the same” is indeed a rather sweeping claim. Being aware of the hyperbolic aura it casts, I did not use it lightly. In fact I rewrote, deleted and retyped it several times, eventually coming to the conclusion it accurately reflected the impact of the week I spent in California.

Since writing is how I process my experiences, I am sometimes bound by self-inflicted parameters. An example of this is the prolonged stretch (five weeks, the longest gap since I began the blog in August of 2013) in my posts between the Verdi Requiem weekend and my current series of posts. When I returned home from that regenerative time with friends, I walked back into a malestorm of situations at work which rapidly escalated and deteriorated. It took every ounce of energy to stay focused, professional and compassionate. At day’s end I literally had enough left in me to walk our dog, eat a decent meal and tend to a handful of chores around the house, pond or garden before collapsing into bed.

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On weekends, my work at the dog rescue where I volunteer became my therapy; making a difference in one arena compensated somewhat for the frustration of not being able to get responses at work.  The affection and acceptance of these dogs who had been through so much in their quest to simply find a home where they would be loved became a beacon of Light and hope in a time of tremendous frustration. The sincere gratitude of the rescue staff for every hour I could contribute was a reminder that what I was able to do mattered, whether it was answering phones, cleaning crates, folding laundry or taking a challenged dog on a long respite walk.

Every Sunday morning I would rise early and write for a few hours but due to the confidential nature of my position (I work as a special education assistant in our local high school) what I wrote could not be posted. That I wrote at all came from the advice of several of my creative tribemates.  “Write,” they said “whether you can publish it or not, write for your own sake. Eventually you will find a way to share what you need to say.” I stopped worrying about the extended gap in the published blog posts.

 

So I wrote and walked dogs and got through the weeks, day by day and I focused on what became an even bigger adventure than going to Switchfoot’s 14th Bro-AM concert at Moonlight Beach. I signed up to spend four days with the guys who created the music which had kept me going for so long so I could thank them in person.

 

Walk gently on the path my friends and may adventure find you ready.

*The title FADING WEST is a reference both to the direction I traveled for my great adventure and a movie/music project the band undertook during their 2012 world tour. You can watch the trailer for the film, released in 2013  at this link .