KNOW THE EARTH AS POETRY

Reflections, Bok Tower, Florida

The other day my granddaughter said, "I think being a follower is underrated."  "So is being an introvert," I replied.  So, two generations apart, something we could agree on.  Although we agree on many things, actually.  If you have a granddaughter you know, treasures beyond compare.  

Some of us don't want to be tough alpha leaders.  I read this somewhere:  "Some of us just want to write and wander the garden and breathe in the sky and nourish and nurture and quietly create new pathways and live our lives as our art.  To know the earth as poetry."  I know women like this, a few; well, more women than men.  

This would have been a pipedream for me when I was practicing law.  You don't win a case for someone wandering the garden.  (Although quietly creating new pathways is a fearsome legal strategy.)  But now, now it suits me.  Maybe you too.  Maybe on your free days you write or wander your garden and live a creative life.  Maybe you even make a living that way. 

Paulo Coehlo (b. 1947, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil), author of The Alchemist, wrote, "Don't allow your mind to tell your heart what to do."  I would add as well, listen to your body over your mind.  So many times, our bodies know what is best.  When to forgive, when to move on, when to accept, how to love. . . these are all body-driven, aren't they?   

"So, what if, instead of thinking about solving your whole life, you just think about adding additional good things.  One at a time.  Just let your pile of good things grow."  Again, I don't know who said this.  But we were traveling recently, and I felt like my pile of good things was growing.  We were in Florida.  One day we saw a lighthouse.  

Fernandina Beach, Florida

Do you also feel like a lighthouse is something special?  There are so few remaining.  The job of a lighthouse was to warn and protect.  They were sentinels.  Doers of good.  Seafarers trusted them.  Now they are symbols. 

Another day, breathing in the sky, we saw hundreds of manatees sheltering in the 72° central Florida springs from the colder Gulf and ocean waters.   

Blue Spring State Park, Florida

Yet another day, we saw the sun set over the lake at Mount Dora.  A quotation from Paulo Coehlo came to me again:  "the secret to immortality is this:  let yourself be reborn every day, every moment, even." 

Sunset at Mt. Dora, Florida

So, yes, let's "wander the garden and breathe in the sky and nourish and nurture and quietly create new pathways and live our lives as our art."  Let's "know the earth as poetry."  Let's be introverts if we want, or followers and creators, travelers and seekers, reborning each day to each day's beauty.  Alive to sunsets and sunrises, manatees and moons, stars and snowflakes . . . .

Adding additional good things one at a time.  

                                                                    

"GLIMMERS ARE THE OPPOSITE OF TRIGGERS," bella GRACE Field Guide

 

Crafting at night

Look, here are some writing prompts I found.  I think they're great.  See what you think.

• "Glimmers are the opposite of triggers; they're small moments that never fail to spark joy in our hearts.  What are your glimmers?" ( bella GRACE  Field Guide)   This one is special to me because I do have triggers.  Maybe we all do, or most of us, of different strengths.   A brief one came my way yesterday when a place that holds bad memories was mentioned.  I crossed my fingers--my own little trigger-management reminder--and went on.  But I never thought about glimmers as their opposite.  I'm going to look for mine and try to call them up when I need a bit of happiness.  Maybe a glimmer can punch an ugly trigger in the nose!  I'm feeling pretty hopeful about this idea.

• "The 'Sunday Scaries' is a feeling most people deal with.  You feel dread for the week ahead and all its tasks . . . ." (also bella GRACE Field Guide)  I definitely remember this dread from my early practice of law--all I still needed to learn to face the week as a new lawyer.  The only way around was to work on Sundays--the best solution for me (maybe) but certainly not for everyone.   The writing prompt is, "What are all the good things that come with the start of a new week?"  Why didn't I think of that then?  A new week is like a new day, a fresh start.  Maybe we need to face the same old obstacles, but it's a chance to face them in a new way.  Answer the prompt yourself.  See if it helps. 

• At the end of the day, what was one perfect moment from today?  The day I saw this prompt was a day my younger grandson called and wanted to really talk.  He had taken a bus trip with a friend and they went to a museum.  I won't see him till Christmas, but each phone call--and there are more than I had hoped for--qualifies.   Earlier this week we got an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner from our daughter-in-law--another day, another perfect moment.  I bet you have many too.  But it's nice to recognize them and name them.   Kind of like money in the bank.

• What are the little things that add more to your life?  I think one point of this prompt is that once you think of these little things, then seek them out and do them more often.  Your list will be as long as mine, so I'll just list a few:  blogging, an afternoon nap, a new tea flavor. 

• Why might we send a handwritten letter of note?  This prompt makes me nostalgic.  I could only think of a couple of reasons, the main one being someone might want something lovely and personal from us to keep.  I know that I enjoy rereading letters and cards from my mom.  I love to see her beautiful Courgette font handwriting.  Children of her generation practiced their letters in cursive.  Wouldn't we like to create something for the future?  I'd like to give and receive something that shows care.  We could think of it this way:  children love cards for their birthdays, Halloween, Christmas.  What child wants an email?  We can, for the moment, be like children. 

• It you could spend your life as someone else, who would it be and why?   What's so reassuring about this prompt is that most if not all of us wouldn't want to be someone else at all.  Even with our troubles, we'd rather keep our own than borrow new or unknown ones.  So once we answer, "I wouldn't want to spend my life as anyone but me," the interesting part is why.  All the reasons.  Maybe "I love my family, I wouldn't want a different spouse, I wouldn't really want to be famous."  We begin thinking about what we would lose as someone else rather than what we might gain.   

• And lastly, again from bella GRACE, certain activities feel like a balm to the soul.  Everyday worries lift and you stay completely in the moment.  "What activities soothe your soul?"  I put being at the beach as #1.  I've noticed that I sing or hum as a walk by the water. Then #2 working in my yard, and #3 collage journaling.  But there are more.   Working on a list of good things is always healthy, it just has to be.  

Santa Barbara Harbor

                                                                                                        From Nina Naomi

THE BEST THINGS, June 2023

 

Bowl by Nina Naomi

The Best Things in the World, June 2023

Sleeping like spoons.

Fixing a meal for friends.

Spending time with grandchildren.

Taking a nap in a sunny spot.

The first cup of morning tea (or coffee).

Staying home. 

Returning home.

Giving the perfect gift.

Having the house to yourself.

Journalling through a problem.

The second cup of morning tea (or coffee). 

Losing track of time outdoors. 

Swimming in a pool, pond, lake, ocean. 

Saving what is important to you.

Being heard.

Buttery corn-on-the-cob. 

Rain for the garden.

Juicy home-grown tomatoes.

Fresh picked vegetables. 

Discovering that your prayer was answered. 

Doing what's right. 

Adding to your pile of good things. 

Forest bathing. 

Finding time for your creative self

 

 

Now your turn . . .  

 

EACH DAY IS FILLED WITH THINGS THAT HAVE NEVER BEEN BEFORE

 

Each day is filled with things that have never been.  It doesn't matter if every week you wash the same clothes or dishes or bathrooms as you did last week.  You are new, the world is new, our heart is different, our thoughts are evolving, the shadows are elongating, the moon is shining and none of it has ever happened before.  Look at the calendar.  Tomorrow has never existed before.  My candle is burning and tomorrow it will be different than it is today.  My little dog will be a day older and so will I.    

Tomorrow in my yard what are buds today will bloom.  Or what is in bloom will wither.  Or a freeze will come.  The little pain in my back that I woke with today will be gone (or it will be worse).  My fears will not have come to fore.  They almost never do.  I might in the night lose sleep because life is short.  I might today, which is Ash Wednesday and I sit here typing with ashes on my forehead commemorating that we are dust and to dust we do return, enjoy the leisure of a long uninterrupted day. 

It is wonderful that each day is filled with things that have never been before.  It is glorious that we change our minds, grow our faith, jettison old ideas, welcome new thoughts and people.  In our yard change is constant.  Branches fall from the trees, squirrels ravage my pot plants, weeds emerge and moss spreads.  Whole towering loblollies lose their tops in a storm.  New growth never ceases.  Cedars reseed like rabbits (of which we have few due to the vigilant hawks).  

All of these things are good.  We may be worried or mourning or fighting pain, but much goes on.  We learn to live with our worries.  We learn to be that person with great grief.  We even learn to shrink from pain and yet not shrink from life.  If we have faith, that guides us, lifts us.  We become no heavier than a feather to our God.  

Something good will happen tomorrow.  We know not today what it will be.  But we can wait with assurance that something, something good will happen.  It may not (will not) be a charmed reprieve, but each day is filled with things that have never been and that we can welcome.  Help us to see, Lord.  AMEN  

                                                           Nina Naomi

LOVING A LISTICLE

2007: the year the word listicle started appearing.  Not that lists haven't been around forever:   Homer lists every captain involved in the Trojan war and a Catalogue of Ships of the Achaean army.  The Beatitudes are promises of blessings for the meek, the poor, the righteous, the merciful, the peacemakers; many of us try to live according to the Ten Commandments; and we (at least I) skip the genealogies listed in the Bible. 

As school children we all learned by lists.  They are finite.  This can be a comfort. But listicles are a bit different.  A nice combination of list and article in what some have called a snackable size.  Befitting something, for the most part, casual.  

The ones I like are inspirational. I was given a workbook of list-prompts.  One is "List the Reasons Why You Should Feel Proud of Yourself."  Isn't that affirming?  I wish I could list, "I've gotten better at keeping promises to myself," but for now that's something to work on.  What I love is the thought behind an interesting listicle, how you can see that the writer felt a sense of accomplishment thinking of each item. Plus how getting to know a writer, even a bit, is always really a way of getting to know yourself. 

So here's my short listicle of things I'm loving as these hot days of August creep along.

. . . the way the Canadian geese sound as they squawk back and forth across the evening sky.  They have no sense of camouflage or survival and yet there is never any shortage of geese.

. . . that all I have to do is listen to my intuition to know what's true.   Our intuition is our friend and to deny it is to take the long way 'round.

. . . when someone compliments me, often a stranger.  Or when I do the same and a conversation starts up, two women finding a transient connection that pauses an ordinary moment.  Women are good at this and it's lovely for children to witness.

. . . when a downpour cools the asphalt and awakens the trees.  The car hoods steam and water pools.  For awhile the humidity shifts, a breeze takes hold and we notice the change in the day.

. . . doing yoga in my 1977 mid-century modern home.  Doing most anything by an open window if the temperature allows:  reading, watching the birds, looking for the chipmunk family, working.

. . . the smell of wild mint and orange lantana.  The fragrance of almond or lavender or vanilla.  The smell of peach camomile tea with honey and how it tastes in a bone china cup.  The feel of fresh sheets, bleached clothes, clean hair, warm skin, shea butter sunscreen, my dog Mr. Wiggles after his shampoo and conditioner, and how good they smell. 

. . . whatever opens our senses: to feel, to taste, to touch, to be enfolded, to snuggle, to envelop, hug, love and then fall asleep. A fine day and night. 

START SMALL

Start Small

Fill your favorite mug and watch the sun go down.

Let your eyes blur with the yellow, red and orange of the disappearing day.

Set aside your phone and read a book.

Or listen to your heart and write your thoughts. 

Go for a drive and stop for photos:  cows, barns, paperwhites,

Birds roosting in trees--whatever the season offers.

Take a new route and see how your town is changing.

Find a funky shop.  

Create pockets of peace everywhere--

On your couch, under a tree, at your table, in your bed. 

When we string small things together they feel large.

Then we say, "I can do this.  This is good, this life of mine."    

SIMPLY GOOD THINGS

Some things are unequivocally good, different for each of us.  If you like lists--and many of us do--listing them is a pleasant reminder of what's good in each of our lives.  I ran across someone else's list that prompted me to make my own.  Maybe this will do the same for you.

Simply Good Things

• being alone in a bookstore
• phone calls with friends or family
• days when you meet a goal
• crafting, making art (or music)
• when your writing flows
  
• listening to music you love
• laughing with family
• having private jokes
• driving with the moon roof open
• being with someone who really listens
  
• remembering something that mattered to you
• times when you know what you want
• good books
• naps
• lying in a hammock  under a canopy of green
  
• a friend who always makes you feel good about yourself
• words that describe just how you feel, a poem, a song . . . 
• finding something small that brightens your day
• a old photo that brings memories
• sunshine after rain
  
• swimming
• changing seasons
  
• the fragrance of newly mown grass
  
• a long marriage between people who are still in love
• anyone who is grateful for you    

Somehow the more we think about what to us is simply good, I suspect the more blessed we feel.