lotus in a muddy pond

Friday, August 22, 2014

calm / I love this view from the lawn of Thinker's Lodge looking back into the harbour / seaweed abstract painting / the beginning of the meadow that edges the sea / a mown path with a forest of queen anne's lace - wee surf at the crescent beach / these bright orange beauties are a sure sign autumn's coming / bird's eye meadow view / 23 great blue herons (I counted) they sometimes like to hang out with each other + they nest in colonies also

I like to think that my story is not exceptional and not unlike so many of us who simply follow the call of their hearts, trusting that the path, despite the debris fields of gremlins (Who do you think you are? You're not allowed to want what you want. Etc, etc), will never fail us. Sure, there will be lots of "fails" when it comes to how to do certain tasks, but not in the bigger sense of perspective, not when it comes to shaping who we are, what we're here to do, and why we're here to do it. I believe in trusting the calls, the whispers, what delights us, and what is nudging at us for more attention. I believe, ultimately, nothing fails. Kelly Rae Roberts

from Kelly Rae's blog - a daily visit of mine - she's a huge & constant inspiration to me & I needed to hear these words today, this week ... this month.

August you've been difficult, maybe if I checked back through the years I'd find that you give me trouble every year, I wouldn't be surprised. As the days get longer, the evenings cooler, our beachy, bustling summertime village begins to slow down and get back to normal, back to sleepy - the melancholy seeps in, that bittersweetness.

Who do I love more ? what do I love best ? why do I believe I have to choose ?

I've been feeling lost, once again certainly not an uncommon feeling. I know I'm supposed to just let lost be, not poke it and prod, examine and analyze. It is what it is. It passes, lost leads to found, or at least to discovery & exploration, both adventures I love. I eventually see a new path or several and I charge down them with great enthusiasm & optimism - there's no doubt in my mind that that will happen again one day very soon.

If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong. Masaru Emoto - Secret Life of Water

my poplars

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

my favourite stand of giant, very old poplar trees - I love them, I love the way their leaves rustle in the wind 

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all. 

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death. 

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. 

Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is & that is home. Hermann Hesse