Friday, October 4, 2013

ebb and ebb ...

There has been much talk in my Practice group about the ebb and flow of one's creative practices.  This is something I have come to surrender to more gracefully: that there are cycles and seasons to how I express or explore myself; and that I naturally move towards that which allows me easier egress when I step out of the way of myself.  What do I reach for on this lazy afternoon?  What am I curious about?  What interests or compels me?

There are days when the words, the paint flows and then there are days where I need a massive tree branch to stir the muck and heaviness.  This past week has been one of ebbing and ebbing some more as I stay alert to my girl who has been home sick with a virus.  

I cannot totally immerse myself, so I find myself skimming the surface of things ... catching up on blogs, listening to podcasts, and doing what I do so well: puttering around the house.  In the past I might have despaired but now I know - from watching myself go through seasons of such spiraling inward and outward - that this is a necessary phase.

A shedding period ... the leaves falling and also my own winding down another birth year.  October is my ending and beginning.

The shedding and ebbing  is opening me up to an appreciate for the fragile beauty and immense power presence in every detail that describes my world.


I give lip service to celebrating the gifts of this life ... but reading this piece jolted me upright and awake in my chair and to my quiet world.


We cannot know ... we do not know ... how much, how little, how breakable, how mendable the pieces of our lives will be, never mind ourselves with these animal bodies.  Sometimes emptying is necessary for me to appreciate how deeply, fully, completely I can fill myself up. Hopefully, that cycle has many more future turns ... but I must pay attention to this one.

And so I sit and paint my birthday mandala, that already has filled and emptied and now awaits another layer.  Another turn.  

Now it is time to make my way upstairs to my bed which has become a life raft for my girl - books, lovies (stuff animals), comfort blanket, crayons and pads - and I will happily slide into that raft and drift into the rest of this day.


  1. i echo your feelings...and then read christina's post and too felt the jolt, the reminder that she so poignantly articulates through her words that we know but so easily push to the back until emergency happens. may we find and savor the meaning, the joy, the totality of each and every breath and appreciate how they (even the most mundane) shape our experience here. blessings my friend xx

  2. beautiful Lisa.... beautiful
    love your heart

    love and light

  3. Thank you for pointing to that incredible post, thank you for sharing your life here - your mama love - these reminders (that's what they are to me, reminders that say to me, to paraphrase what Christina wrote, "go - LOVE!"