stillness

mixed media piece on gesso board, created for "Got Paint" course with Emily Falconbridge

I've been craving stillness. Now that school is out and the structure of our days shattered, I am remembering how hectic summer can be. All I want is to stop dead in my tracks and let the traffic pass me by. This season feels like it should be about lingering, ripening, opening and emptying and I am wondering if that perspective comes from my memories as a child? Or from life pre-cellphones, laptops, internet and on-demand viewing?

I am enthralled with the notion of returning to a spacious experience of time. The sensation of being both in and out of time, which is what I experience when painting or creating and when I am in Nature. Recently I discovered this interview with poet and philosopher John O'Donohue (thanks to Jen Lee) and I was struck by his interpretation of stress. He said "Stress is a perverted relationship to time ... rather than being a subject of your own time, you are its target, a victim."

We rarely allow ourselves the luxury of doing nothing, just being. This is especially true with our children. I see parents who do not allow their kids a moment of unstructured time. I remember as a kid my parents never told me what to do; I might be bored but I knew it was up to me to find something to amuse myself and I always did. I also remember vast stretches of time where I just sat and thought and yes, felt bored but never rushed or pressured either. I had time to drop within myself and even if that was uncomfortable at times I also learned it passed. Doing nothing allowed me the chance to realize nothing stays the same, life is constantly changing and how I feel will also change. Knowing this truth comforted me through some difficult times as a teen. I knew tomorrow would be different and I would be different by the mere fact I lived through my challenges.

Thinking about all these things makes me anxious for Cowgirl. How can I teach her about stillness, being, receiving the truth of one's heart when all of the messages of our culture shout "fill up, move, consume, go go go!" At first I despair and then I know. I cannot tell her these things, I must show her. What I want for her, I must first give to myself. If I am lucky, she will learn from my example the value of stillness and slowing down as the impact will be visible in my life, in my attitude and in my capacity to love her and myself.

So here I go examining my routines and looking at where I can eliminate the waste of my time and reinvest in what nurtures a sense of centeredness and well-being.

I am committing - once again - to my meditation cushion and to practices that support me in being more fully present to myself, my family and my life. And when I can be more present, I can remember to choose love in every moment. As the song says, you can't hurry love.

journal page created for Wild Precious Studio prompt

Feral Writing course is over, but a new poetry intensive starts June 6th. This experience rocked my world and strengthened my connection with intuition, fearless creating and creativity in general. I learned that filtering my life through art - whether it be painting, photography or writing - is how I find meaning and evoke healing for myself and my world. Alongside my meditation practice is a writing practice firmly in place after this program.

My routine
is to get up
before anyone else,
light a candle
gather my blanket
shawl
zafu
and sit.

Sometimes I perform
a reiki
meditation
hands over each
chakra
ironing out
any wrinkles
brushing away
irregularities
debris
accumulated karma.

Other days I
affirm my commitment
to surrender again
to my life,
Lord Shiva
keeping me on my toes

And then there are the days
when it is all I can do
to simply breathe
trusting to be filled.

I believe my teachers
when they tell me
this commitment will help me
heed the voice
of my inner self
mentor me in simplicity,
clarity,
peace.

I have fallen in and out of the habit
For over a decade now.

The evidence is inconclusive
but faith persists.