Gentle Blossom

So fellow travelers, yesterday brought a gathering of cousins and another farewell. My husband’s aunt passed from this life peacefully, a week ago today.

Aunt Mary was the oldest and, at 102, also the last surviving of her seven siblings. She always insisted she would live to be 100 and like anything she set her mind to she succeeded beyond expectations.

(Photo: celebrating Mary’s 100th birthday November 2018)
She had no children of her own, so her nieces and nephews became her support system as she aged. Fiercely independent, she held onto her life at home as long as possible and when she moved to into long term care, my husband and his cousins continued to provide additional support and visit when possible. Last spring, Covid19 protocols changed “when possible”  to “not possible.” While our deepest regret is not seeing Mary before she died, it is reassuring to know she received the best of care right through to her last days. She died peacefully of natural causes.
Yesterday morning, I rose early to feed and walk our dog before we headed into the city for her memorial. Sunrise painted the winter sky with brilliant colors of pink and rose. I thought about a plant we brought home from her house ten years ago. The day after we received the news of Mary’s death, it bloomed for the first time in several years. From those two moments, came this haiku in her honor. 

Winter sunrise glows
Sacred flower gently blooms
One soul rises free

(photo: Mary’s Christmas cactus (schlumbergera truncata) Monday Jan 4th)

I am grateful my husband and I were able to gather safely with ten of his fourteen living cousins, many of whom we have not seen in several years.  The Russian orthodox service was beautiful and, even through his mask, the young priest singing the liturgy invoked a beautiful, compassionate angelic presence. I have no doubt Aunt Mary’s soul carries all our love and respect as she continues her journey home. 

Mary Lyboult (neé  Dominica “Minne” Rahalski) November 23, 1918- January 3, 2021

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

Haiku for a New Year

So fellow travelers, sitting down to work on a new post, I discovered my New Year’s Day post did not publish. 
Hmmm.
So much for the WordPress pre-scheduled publish option which I know I have used successfully many times. Perhaps that glitch was just 2020’s parting side swipe.
No matter.
I simply composed a revised intro (which you are reading now) and reposted.

(Photo: Sunset at Cadillac Mountain Acadia National Park, Maine USA 9/30/2020)

Angels in the sky
Divine Love made visible
So we remember

I hold no illusions that working through the aftermath of 2020 will be as simple as reposting a missed entry. That the year still held moments like the one captured above is an affirmation of just how much brighter Light shines when all seems darkest. Eyes on the horizon Hope is not cancelled.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way


In Search of Magic

So fellow travelers, rising well before dawn to greet the Solstice, a glance out the window in my meditation space revealed this gift

a moment which provided the last key to finding what seemed lost.

Tis now a season
made strange and unfamiliar
by required distancing
in full contradiction with
the inherent nature of the day
when gathering together to celebrate
the gift of Love made manifest on Earth 
is everything

indeed the only thing
on your list this year
and the one wish which will remain

not granted
So you search long and hard
far and wide
past and present
for that  “magic of the season “
and just as doubt weighs heaviest
The glow of snowkissed lights
 clear tones of a favorite song
sweet cinnamon cookies and tea

fragrant wafts of balsam
and just now

a gentle Angel’s kiss at dawn
There at last you find it
right where it was hidden all along
Peace
Love
Joy 
Magic is indeed alive and well
deep in your heart

Walk gently on the path my friends and blessings of the Season to you all.

Digging Deeper

So fellow travelers, last month I promised a post on my core experience of Christmas “becoming” magical.

Honestly, this year, I find myself digging deeper than ever to feel that magic and, knowing I am not alone in this, I remain committed to creating that post. As it germinates in the creative sanctuary of my heart, waiting to sprout words in my brain, a cold front pushed temperatures back to more seasonable digits and our first winter storm slowly turned the view from my studio into a snow globe.

I recently started spending an hour in my writing space everyday, as the “golden hour” sets in not to write, but to simply watch the light change as it surrenders to ever earlier nightfall. The cycles of nature are a reminder to me that change is the only constant in life. Day to night, season to season, the waxing and waning moon, all continuous cycles. The experience is infused with profound longing, and inexplicable joy.

To surrender to the inevitable changes in life is to cast hope into the future, like seeds sent forth as a plant’s last gift before it too becomes part of the Earth. For the first time in my life, I witnessed all of humanity struggle against the force of wave after wave of change over which we had so little control. While the tide is turning, this global transformation does not end with the flip of the calendar and a change in the year’s end digit from zero to one. When we emerge from the other side of the effects of this pandemic, our lives will look and feel very different, which is why there has been such deep persistent resistance to accepting what we know we all must do. For humanity to move forward, we must embrace the opportunity to participate in creating a more equitable, more compassionate and yes, more hopeful life for our fellow travelers. Clearly not everyone has embraced this, however I earnestly believe the balance tips in favor towards the willing as creating enough force to shift the narrative for our future.

It feels like a daunting mission and yet a moment in the opening of a recent livestream show with my five favorite musical humans, Switchfoot, brought up this quote:
“Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what you have.” Ernest Hemingway / The Old Man and the Sea. *

So for now I offer this chance image, captured on a recent walk and the words it brought :

Winds of change roar in
Faith takes hold digging deeper
Reaching for Earth’s strength

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

*Editorial Note: This quote is similar to one I first read in Theodore Roosevelt’s Autobiography originally published in 1914. “Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are. ” The quote is always attributed to Teddy (who stands as my favorite US President) however he clearly stated the quote’s origins as Squire Bill Widener of Widener’s Valley, Virginia. It remains one of the foundations of my personal perspective.

Sunset Zen

So fellow travelers, catching a sunset never fails to give rise to a wave of emotions for me.

Gratitude is always a component, even if it is simple gratitude for a challenging day’s end and the gift of a chance to rest. November’s short damp days often end with cloud cover so thick it obscures the setting sun. So the vision of banks of grey clouds turning rosy pink the other day created a moment of insight and these words~

Swaths of grey blush pink
from the setting sun’s kiss and
promise to return

The constants of sunrise and sunset are my reminder of a Promise: no matter the darkness we pass through, the Light will return. In my teens I came across a quote which radically shifted my perception of life. The phrase from The Greek Philosopher Heraclitus, “Panta Rhei” is usually transcribed as “Change is the only constant,” although it actually means “everything flows.” Which, in fact, it does when we relinquish our resistance to the inevitability of change.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way


The Decision

So fellow travelers, it is Thanksgiving Day here in the US, a holiday I enjoy even more than Christmas ,

and I have always loved Christmas!

.

Even the few times when I was alone or grieving a great loss , Christmas Day always becomes* magical to me. Still to me Thanksgiving is a celebration of the two things in life I treasure even more than the magic of Christmas: family and food.

This year, with the increasing momentum of the COVID19 pandemic’s second wave, staying home became the only responsible choice for me. It took a long, strenuous hike to work through the emotions that hit me the day I cancelled my flight to Portland to spend Thanksgiving with our kids. We won’t even be traveling to see family in cities close by. Decisions my husband and I reached out of simple, genuine concern for the well being of others, more than for ourselves. Decisions we had to make because of another, perhaps more dangerous, outbreak plaguing our country- a viral lack of concern for the impact our choices have on each other.  Decisions which it’s clear even more people will have to make for the December holiday season. So waking this morning with a deep need to shift that mindset of loss, I sat in meditation at sunrise.  The comfort I sought came as these words

In this moment here
reach for hope find peace and joy
now and yet to come

One small ray of Light banishes darkness. Nothing outside ourselves has the power to stop us of from the decision to be that Light.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

*PS~ The “becoming” part of Christmas Day’s magic is a post unto itself. Those thoughts are simmering with the traditional Turkey Soup yet to come.

Red Angel

So fellow travelers, when I reach the edge of emotional resilience nature is the sanctuary which brings my energy back to  center. 

One special find on the Acadia trip.

In general, I proactively make healing time in nature a regular part of my routine, even if it’s just the daily walk times with our dog. Since our  return from the early October trip to Acadia, my creative focus has been in total disarray just like the trip’s blog entry which remains in narrative limbo. Like the haze from wildfires, there is a peripheral anxiety which permeates my days and a growing awareness that this energy I am feeling is far larger than my own. It comes in unrelenting waves so persistent I have been pushed to seek a more powerful arsenal of coping practices. That quest has led me to profound discoveries about myself, which in turn have brought me to a place of clarity about what’s happening in the world around me as well. This awareness has not quite coalesced into description yet, but a moment on a long hike created an experience which reflects what it feels like.

Trekking along a path, my dog and I rounded a corner and there, illuminated by a ray of sunlight, was a tiny red angel standing perfectly upright among the fallen leaves. Feelings quickly flowed into these words

This one chose to stand
small but fiery bright lit by
compassion and love

The world is changing; there are multiple narratives playing out. We are alive in this crucial turning point for a reason. That reason differs for each of us and none of us can say what is true for anyone but our own self. Yet collectives are made of individuals so the choices we each make matter more than we give ourselves credit for. There is power inherent in every act of kindness and compassion, in each word spoken to raise awareness of injustice and each hand extended in peace. The power of many individual actions builds into a wave  which can overcome fear and hatred with the unstoppable force of unified Love.

I’ve only surfed a handful of times, but if the tide is changing and surf’s up, I’m willing to ride the waves.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

Guest Post: Poem: Number 225,017

Every day the numbers are posted. And every one of those numbers has a story, a face, a soul , and regardless of years, a life sacrificed too soon.

Here is one from Tom Atkins.

https://quarryhouse.blog/2020/10/25/poem-number-225017/#like-34618

Lanterns of Friendship

So fellow travelers, the cumulative effect of the year so far has been an emotional experience I can best describe as what happens right before a tsunami:

One moment I am standing on the safe warm beach, wrapped in a blanket of sun infused happiness. Suddenly the ocean unnaturally recedes so far out it doesn’t make sense. Then comes the moment when confusion becomes terror as the reality of what is happening hits: a tsunami on the way. 

Internal equilibrium has been a challenge to maintain this past few months, hence the periodic weeks of silence here. Sometimes fear and anger run so deep, it feels too dangerous to speak of, as if my words would tip the balance of power in the struggle to keep darkness from taking over my Internal GPS. Words reflect belief and belief creates experience. 

In times like this having friends we can rely on is a resource of immeasurable value. I mean the kind of friends who hear your need when you are silent and send a quick message to touch base or ask you to text when you arrive safely, the ones who right on cue post a meaningful message that reminds you hope is never cancelled, dawn always follows the darkest night and in time love prevails. The ones you, yourself do not hesitate to lift up when their spirits need a boost, knowing the hope and Light we give is always returns even brighter. For my tribe of friends,  these words came while exploring the wilds of Maine.

Navigating paths
Holding the lantern by turns
Transcending distance

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way

Autumn Flags

So fellow travelers, the colors of my favorite season are peaking here in Upstate New York.

Autumn waves its flags
releasing what’s done with ease
with joy I follow

This glorious season of ephemeral beauty and joy is too brief to spend indoors. The Acadia trip posts will just have to wait.

Walk gently on the path my friends and let Love Light the way