Monday, March 26, 2018

Awakening to Possibility

 














Spring is never quite the way you think it's going to be.  It starts off looking all mellow and warm, with gentle breezes, and then, turns cold and damp, with blustery wind that says, "I am not yet done telling you something."  Buds begin to form, the first sprouts of the first flowers come up and look around at the world, still wet and chilly.  

Here in the mountains, there may be hard frost in the morning, and in the afternoon, the chorus of frogs rejoicing in the moisture and the chance to jump around.

It is gentle in the middle and rough around the edges, or else the other way round...seeming to promise great things, then taking them back again or telling us that we must wait to see if they are really going to happen.

For me, the spring also holds a bit of melancholy, a kind of wistfulness that doesn't really show itself except in bits and pieces.  The beginning...does this mean there will be an end, too?  Of course it does, but is there really a beginning or an end?  What are the buds saying now about the harvest that will come when they have flowered, fruited, ripened, fallen or been gathered?  

I walk around looking at the displays of nature.  The flowers have a language of their own.  They rise and throw color into the world, are blown over, or rained into rags, and they don't seem to care a bit about any of it.

The questions arrive like the birds....all the cyclic ways of nature, the emotions, the realizations,  come rushing in with the new vitality and all the clumsiness of a new puppy.

I am gathering my thoughts for the next writing retreat, thinking of my ideas and how to make them visible.  I take extra care to think about my clients and what their needs are.  And in this year, after going through so many difficulties during last year, I am above all grateful for the chance to begin again.  Life feels new, and full, and I am stronger for having bent in the wind, like the grass.

Light the Fire is on April 28th at Asilomar.  

We will talk about the creative process, how to make it a natural part of life, and how to light up communication by making direct contact with intuitive forces supported by solid knowledge of the laws of style.  I will share information about creating strong sentences and paragraphs, and provide solid information about nurturing your creative process.

Attendance is limited to six.  If you would like to join us, please click on the link below for more information about registering for this unique opportunity to meet with other creative people in the magical setting of Asilomar.

 www.thewriterslaunchpad.com/light-the-fire-writing-retreat/


Light the Fire is a special time for me, too.  Being in the company of people who are creative and sharing our essence is the best part of life.  What a blessing to see and to know one another.

 What does spring mean for you?  Are you ready to rush out into the rain, and gather the daffodils quickly before the moisture makes them transparent and fragile, to rejoice in their yellowness?  Does something stir in your soul that wants to come out and be known?

Here, as the birds come in groups and the grasses begin to rise, the feeling of newness is so potent that it makes me feel raw and vulnerable in a way that lets me know I am truly alive.   




Sunday, March 18, 2018

Waiting: the Meaning of an Interval

The picture above is of a place that no longer exists.  I had a large lamp with stained glass panels that had been give to me.  It didn't really suit my decor as it was, and yet I enjoyed the colors.  So for a while I turned it upside down and used it to create a kind of doll house, carpeted by a piece of needlepoint which was like it; resembling the lamp in that I had no place for it in  my day to day life, but it spoke to my imagination.  The tiny room sat in my office window as a place for passing ideas and inspirations to alight and refresh.  I enjoyed having the colors change as the sun moved past.

And then, it was time to let go of it.  I felt that the little structure had served its purpose, and I wanted someone to have the pleasure of seeing the lamp lit up, doing what it was created to do.  So I passed it on.  

The little interval when ideas stopped by in the tiny room was refreshing, and I was able to act on some of them.  They have taken visible form, or else they have found other places to land, where 
 they had someone to receive them who could help them take form.  

Either way, hosting ideas was, and is, fun.  Ideas are all around us, waiting for someone to notice them, to listen and feel, and take action.  They are just outside the visible world, with messages to make our lives more intense, more relaxing, or perhaps, more meaningful.

I have other objects and visuals that I enjoy that serve the same purpose...bringing  happy thoughts and feelings into my mind and heart.  Inspiration can come from anywhere.  Providing a place in your life that serves to help you notice it can be a source of enjoyment, and a powerful stimulus for the imagination.

It doesn't have to be elaborate.