Rain this morning. Delicious. Now the sun. It makes me glow. Heightened awareness. Okay so what’s that about….oh I just had an epiphany yesterday and suddenly — profoundly –realized in a somewhat much clearer way than ever before….that all I need to do is show up for me. No matter how desolate things can be, no matter how tremendous the challenges of every day health, work stuff, relationship fluctuations, etc etc etc — My real work is simply me. And once I put that front and center I truly believe I can do, achieve, create whatever I intend. It’s freeing to live in accord with my own true self. This is where I begin front and center and this is where I may serve through my art. May I open my heart wide to those closest and those on the street — to begin again and again.
Tag Archives: creative inspiration
The mighty sea always reminds me of beauty and turmoil in my life. Life’s been bumpy what can I say; however, it’s surrounded by puffs of grace and so much gratitude.
I pulled this photo out this morning and my heart skipped a beat. I suppose it always does when I am able to view this kind of image through my camera lens. It reminds me of the layers of my own life and the need for pauses. Our self-care is ramped up here in our household to balance out the complexities of everyday life.
What is it about extremes I go to when I slip down the rabbit hole and do the internal scream….”Hold on”…or as Mary Oliver so beautifully articulates….”Mend my life.” Yeah…that pretty much says it all. The best part is knowing that the bandaids are close by and at any time I can access my internal garden I’ve tended too so much in the past.
As I edge toward summer I wave goodbye to the windy days of spring and the somewhat unsettling times it has brought me. I’m an evolving modern elder moving into unknown chapters with glee, expectancy and always…the love of the sea.
Autumn has always been a season of quirky shifts for me. The winds remind me that changes are comin; the air can be balmy and/or windy and of late, signal light rain. I walked out yesterday and held my head back to catch the raindrops on my face. This may sound silly; so what. I suppose I was seeking a cleanse from an unknown source.
I’ve also felt a greater sense of loss this season. I reflect back on my friends and family who have passed on and how they impacted my life. I try and pull up some of their kind words of support to get me through the weepy tears that surface. I remind myself it’s okay to just be with the discomfort of those feelings and let the love that I felt sink deeper into my being. It reinforces my heart was and continues to open. I stretch further into the sadness and find trickles of newness. Call it hope perhaps. There’s always another way-another option-another day. I take more rest periods. I walk with neighborhood friends. I call my 92-yr-old Mom and talk about really nothing; I hold my sweetheart closer. I stop and just laugh. I dance to a favorite old song and freak out my kitty cat in the process. All this to just renew as I continue to make my way into the complexities of this time.
Life needs us all. It’s that simple. I mark my spot in this crazy beautiful autumn day.
For days now I am greeted in the early am with layers of fog. It sets my morning in a way that allows me to move in an unfettered way. There’s a freedom attached to the fog. It holds what it is to come and for the few morning hours before the sun moves in there is a beaconing – a calling – so to speak – step in and create.
I shot these magnificent trees on the coastline in Half Moon Bay — a friend had said the night before — “I hope you capture the fog – it is suppose to be really thick tomorrow.” Well with that challenge I set out in the early morn and my camera companion did the heavy lifting. My body moved to the grace of the elements and I found myself in sync with the dance of the atmosphere.
I had been missing the fog horn lately and was surprised how much it shaped my early mornings. Soon, as the end of June came and well into July and now early August — the fog has appeared front and center and I knew it was time to note its impact – with my camera and my words. Truly, I love the fog. There’s an uncertainty that comes with it and gives me a freedom to move in an unfettered way. I take all the liberties I want in these early mornings of pea soup.
I shot these magnificent trees in this layer of fog after a friend challenged me the night before it all started – “I hope you’re capturing the fog – tomorrow is supposed to be the thickest.” Well, with that directive, I set out early to Lands End, near the Cliff House – and approached what was to be truly one of the most graceful mornings I can remember.
Tall and statuesque, the trees were shrouded in layers of mist with branches clinging to touches of nourishment.
I felt part of their morning glee as I moved ever so cautiously clicking away — pinching myself I was given a pass to participate in their dance.
I hope you will find this image as inspiring as I do ~ it reminds me that being in the unknown is perfectly okay. It triggers hope and possibility.
I felt the air stream guiding over the exposed part of my tummy as I luxuriated on the sand. 80 plus degrees in San Francisco – a rare treat and it was edging up to Summer Solstice. David was snoozing. He was in recovery from life twists and turns and sleep soothed his restlessness. Me, well I was in that space where stillness seemed to rock the outskirts and the insides of my being.
My breaths were deeper. My actions had a new layer of kindness – for myself and others.
I closed my eyes. Distant voices. One man person pontificating to his somewhat inattentive family.
I was drifting. The breeze woke me as the sun beamed on my bare belly. Moments that one can find only on the beach. There’s a joy smoldering in this landscape. It’s pure. I feel the oneness and the community of others in for simple frolic, bright sunlight and sand. Kids seem to be at their best drooling in the sand with toys as tools guiding them to deeper depths.
yep, only at the beach.
I woke up at 3:30 and clearly knew I was being summoned. I found my robe and slippers and made my way with cat companion toward that first cup of coffee. My laptop and the shimmering moonlight provided the only light I needed to write.
Why was this particular year feeling literally like a new birth – I was in this uncomfortable labor – another chapter was imminent –knowing I needed to be in the un-comfort zone so transformation can happen. I shred my thoughts, quirks, fears, and concerns, all on the page via swift movement on the keyboard.
I have been in action mode for most of my life. My work involves service and my art is finding its way to and through that service. The new reality is in the merging of my worlds and trust that is inevitable to be there.
I looked up to witness a veil covering the waxing moon. I was reminded of yesterday’s insightful thoughts – to be in stillness, allow the silence, the non-movement –sleep, rest – all part of this trajectory of life I have chosen and all serve me as I make my way through the complexities.
My daily writing ritual and the moon’s teaching – its veil symbolizing the acknowledgement to retreat and have patience and trust my discerning movements and choices to be in the void of nothingness. Soon the illuminating moon will be full.
These are gifts of this birthday year.
There’s a momentary pause in the rain. Like space in between the words I write. Voids in the day. To be filled or fulfilled. And really, does it matter?
I walked in the rain last night to catch the bus – I needed the almost-mile walk up the blocks dodging puddles and umbrellas and being in the space to catch manna falling from the sky. My body was in heaven giving me thanks for taking it out to stretch, to move, to feel the impact of water.
I’m hydrating more. Realizing how water has an effect on inflammation in the body – we are mostly water – and how simple to know that this one action we can do helps maintain a sense of well being.
I feel such a strong sense of home when I am near the ocean. It took me more than 30 years to discover the sea and now, more than 30 years later, I’m unsure how I would manage without it being steps away.
It reflects the sea inside of me and the enormity of possibility and expansion and solace and comfort. The forces are endless. Like rain on my face, I am continually nourished by its bounty.
As the temps slide down I find myself squirming to locate my nestling spot. There’s so much to do and be done and it’s the holidays and this and that and and…wait stop. Take a breath. Been quite the busy year. And goodness me, I crossed over to a new chapter…marriage. My love, my anchor, now borders me in ways beyond comprehension and I find myself smiling inside and out. And, more importantly, the desire to go deeper…in my work, relationships, service, and at the top of the list, my ART.
Daily I point my camera/ phone at even the simplest of subjects. I allow the motion to keep pushing me forward and hold the vision a new body of work emerges. I know I am a vessel and my daily practice is to allow the expansion in its own time. And in the interim I just keep toe-stepping to the dance.
It’s wake up time. Our precious resource of water is in danger of disappearing. I admit I love my baths. I think harder about how much I fill the tub and how long my shower is. We are being called to a higher task – globally – and how we, as global collective, can impact this most serious threat.
I shoot water all the time. It draws me to unknown places of intrigue and delight. From this point forward as I look at water, as I point my camera, as my hands turn it on to wash a dish — I purposely intend to use it consciously and respectfully.