Artist as Translator

 

"The Translator" 

My latest painting inspired by this poem "Walking the Borders" from William Stafford. (See below) The painting became a sort of self-portrait for me as my work centers around creating a new, visual language through sacred art that illustrates our interconnectedness in the web of creation. You can see her holding in one hand a skull and paint brushes in the other. 

Walking the Borders
Sometimes in the evenings a translator walks out
and listens by streams that wander back and forth
across borders. The translator holds a mint
on the tongue, turns it over to try
a new side, then tastes a wild new flavor,
a flavor that enlivens those fading languages
of cursing and calling each other those names
that destroyed millions by swinging a cross
like an ax, or a crescent curved like a knife,
or a star so red it burned its way over the ground.

The wild new flavor fades away too,
but lingers awhile along borders for a translator to savor
secretly, borrowing from both sides, holding
for a moment the smooth round world
in that cool instant of evening before the sun goes down.

The background shows the Ten Commandments, a moral doctrine that for me is the fading language that has separated us from each other and from the Creation. The new language is one of interdependence in the web of life and the coming ecozoic era where we come back into balance as foretold in the ancient prophecy of the Eagle and the Condor, shown flying here wing-to-wing in the sky. In the center, the Hebrew word Ah-ha-VAH translates as Love. (Note: I chose Hebrew as it is the first of the Abrahamic traditions followed by Christianity and Islam.) 

Stafford was a pacifist and conscientious objector during WWII. In his poem, he is referencing the Abrahamic traditions: “those fading languages of cursing and calling each other those names that destroyed millions by swinging a cross (Christianity) like an ax, or a crescent (Islam) curved like a knife, or a star (Judaism) so red it burned its way over the ground.” If we look at history, human beings have been killing each other over religious differences for thousands of years. Consider the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the Holocaust. And more recently, the white supremacist who killed three people outside a Jewish community center. So, in going back to the Ten Commandments which inform the Abrahamic faiths and culture on some level even if one is secularist/atheist. I was contemplating the sixth commandment (it’s also in a different color in the painting, though hard to see that at this size) that says “Thou Shalt Not Murder.” So my painting, and the poem, is questioning what it means to live by a doctrine that hasn’t worked to ensure peace among us. I honor all paths to God, the Divine, but the question for me is how do we create a new “language” that recognizes our interconnectedness in the web of creation that puts aside our differences in order to ensure a liveable, peaceful, and sustainable future for life on earth?

 

Signs of Spring, Song of the Lark

Trillum at Tryon Creek Park

THE SONG OF THE LARK

...Whoever listens in this silence, as she listens,
will also stand opened, thoughtless, frightened
by the joy she feels, the pathway in the field
branching to a hundred more, no one has explored.

What is called in her rises from the ground
and is found in her body,
what she is given is secret even from her.

This silence is the seed in her
of everything she is
and falling through her body
to the ground from which she comes,
it finds a hidden place to grow
and rises, and flowers, in old wild places,
where the dark-edged sickle cannot go.

Excerpted From:
THE SONG OF THE LARK
In RIVER FLOW: New and Selected Poems
© David Whyte and Many Rivers Press

Intention and The Great Work

New Connexions Magazine. Ganesha ©Amy Livingstone, 2014

Show at the Doll Gardner Gallery. West Hills UU Portland

Opening at the Doll Gardner Gallery. West Hills UU Portland

The Journey

One day you finally knew  

what you had to do, and began,  

though the voices around you  

kept shouting  

their bad advice- 

though the whole house  

began to tremble  

and you felt the old tug  

at your ankles.  

"Mend my life!"  

each voice cried.  

But you didn't stop.  

You knew what you had to do,  

though the wind pried  

with its stiff fingers  

at the very foundations,  

though their melancholy  

was terrible.  

It was already late  

enough, and a wild night,  

and the road full of fallen  

branches and stones.  

But little by little,  

as you left their voices behind,  

the stars began to burn  

through the sheets of clouds,  

and there was a new voice  

which you slowly  

recognized as your own,  

that kept you company  

as you strode deeper and deeper  

into the world  

determined to do  

the only thing you could do- 

determined to save 

the only life you could save.

-Mary Oliver 

  

My intention around expansion for the new year seems to be manifesting these days. (See previous post). I am having a show of my artwork at the Doll Gardner Gallery inside the West Hills Unitarian during the month of March, my 'Ganesha' is the featured artwork on the cover of New Connexions magazine, and I also had a wonderful interview recently with Robyn Purchia at EdenKeeper.org. You can read her article here. We share a similar passion and mission around the connection between religion and the environment. 

We all know the power of intention and holding a vision even when it's not quite clear where it will lead. This is the path of radical trust and faith. I appreciated revisiting this poem from Mary Oliver that speaks to that calling we each have inside us to follow our heart in spite of the voices, or culture, shouting their bad advice. I believe deeply that we each have a gift to bring forward in service to what the late eco-theologian Thomas Berry called the Great Work of our time. We need all hands on deck if we want to ensure a liveable planet for future generations. When I spoke aloud my vows at the end of a ten-day training with environmentalist Joanna Macy in 2002, I committed my life to serving the healing of the earth and the welfare of all beings--human and non-human. That has seemed overwhelming at times but it remains the underlying intention for my life and work in whatever form that takes. Will you join me? 

Macy speaks to three areas of engagement during this era of transformation, or the Great Turning. Perhaps one of them will speak to you. Holding actions (boycotts, civil disobedience); creating new (sustainable) structures and institutions; and shifting consciousness around the reality of our collective interconnectedness in the web of life which has been my primary focus though I have also participated in numerous events and demonstrations around social/ecological justice over the years including the current campaign to stop the Keystone XL pipeline. This year, I plan to share more about ways you might be inspired to get involved though I know so many of you are already doing such great work on behalf of our world.   

Always, it is my love of the earth, beauty, and the intersection where art, spirit, and earth healing meet that feeds my soul. What feeds yours?

Song for Autumn

Greetings and Happy Fall Equinox. Shown here: "Harvest Moon Mandala." The harvest moon is the moon at and about the period of fullness that is nearest to the autumnal equinox. (she was stunning this week!) Here, two goddesses hold up the moon. And as Autumn is also a time of turning our energies inward, the bears represent the hibernation or inwardness of the spirit as they march to the west which is the cardinal direction associated with the Fall. The dream catcher in the center adds to this theme where the jeweled net of Indra (from the Buddhist tradition) invites us to remember that all phenomena are intimately connected.

Song for Autumn

In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think

of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

—Mary Oliver

(Original painting and prints are available of this mandala. Contact me via www.sacredartstudio.net for more information.)

Feeling the seasonal shift approaching. That instinctual turn inward like nature herself as the garden begins to die back. Autumn is my favorite season and love rising early before the sun, before the world wakes. I start each morning in the studio with a ritual of lighting candles, making an offering of incense, and saying a prayer (or an intention) that my work may serve the healing of the Earth. May it be so.

Artist’s Prayer

Creator of the Universe,
How infinite and astonishing
Are your worlds.
Thank you
For your Sacred Art
And sustaining Presence.

Divine Imagination,
Forgive my blindness,
Open all my Eyes.
Reveal the Light of Truth.
Let original Beauty
Guide my every stroke.

Universal Creativity,
Flow through me,
From my heart
Through my mind to my hand.
Infuse my work with Spirit
To feed hungry souls.

—Alex Grey, “Art Psalms”

Poem for Inspiration

From one of my spiritual teachers in the Buddhist tradition, Adyashanti.

The Innermost Table

You want me to speak of love

and so I will.

But the Love of which I can speak

costs me all my coins of illusion

and so I cannot compromise its virtues

nor quibble over its price.

This Love is Divine Nectar

a wine found only at

the innermost table.

It has seen endless days

of rain and sun and harvest.

It has been made wise and mellow

by the passing of time

and its refined taste

is uncompromising to those

who prefer their wine young

and overly sweet.

Although at times you may

appear to be swept away

by its dizzying effects

you will find that you have

the clarity of a diamond and

the reflexes of a falcon.

You will remain capable of compassion

and ruthless decisiveness alike.

In one hand

you will hold a feather

and in the other

a sword.

Drink the wine of this Love

and your life will change.

Instead of being a gatherer

of the Divine Light

you will be its shine.

It will be the end of you

and the beginning.

Poem for a Summer Day

-->

A little inspiration for this scorching hot summer day in Portland, Oregon. I never feel alone when in the company of stones, the river, or a daisy. You?

The Waking

by Theodore Roethke

I strolled across

An open field;

The sun was out;

Heat was happy.

This way! This way!

The wren’s throat shimmered,

Either to other,

The blossoms sang.

The stones sang,

The little ones did,

And flowers jumped

Like small goats.

A ragged fringe

Of daisies waved;

I wasn’t alone

In a grove of apples.

Far in the wood

A nestling sighed;

The dew loosened

Its morning smells.

I came where the river

Ran over stones:

My ears knew

An early joy.

And all the waters

Of all the streams

Sang in my veins

That summer day.

World Environment Day Portland Oregon

The UN chose our beautiful city, Portland, Oregon to be the host city for World Environment Day on June 5th. World Environment Day is an annual event that is aimed at being the biggest and most widely celebrated global day for positive environmental action. We gathered around the world to celebrate, educate, and inspire and to share our contribution(s) around sustainability and ways to serve the healing the earth. I had a booth at the Waterfront, RoZone area and brought part of my "Return to the Garden" installation. Native American drumming and dance opened the festivities. The children enjoyed co-creating the nature mandala which was later offered to the Willamette River, sending our prayers of healing for the earth in all directions. (See more photos at my Facebook page.) The poem that I shared in closing was one I found on the web from Sara R., gr. 4, Red Wing, MN. I dedicate this work to our children, for it is their future we are all working for...and for future generations.  

Earth Dancer

Earth, if you are the land,
then I am the dancer dancing with you,
my toes tickling your nose.

I am the dancer 
I dance all around

I am the salmon
You are the water
I am the salmon who fly in the air,
I am the salmon who dance up the waters

I am the dancer 
I dance all around

I am the bird who dances in sky,
Oh, look at me fly!

I am the dancer 
I dance all around

I am the turtle who goes oh so slow,
But if you look closely you’ll know
that when I do move I’m doing a dance.

I am the dancer 
I dance all around

I am the frog that hops on a log,
Oh, look at me! I’m dancing along.

I am the dancer 
I dance round and round

I am the stars that dance in the night,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
I wish I might dance all this night.

I am the dancer 
I dance round the round

Love all Creation

As the earth begins her resurrection from the depths of winter, the revelatory miracle of creation is omnipresent. These holy days, I commune with the creation. The birdsong is so abundant in the garden, it makes my heart sing. For anyone following this blog or my Studio Facebook page, you have probably discerned that I love birds. For me, they are also messengers from Spirit. Spotted a bald eagle in the neighborhood last night which speaks to me about keeping attention on the larger vision of my life and work. Above, the Stellars Jay, one of my spirit helpers and a regular visitor to the feeder. For my daily devotional reading, I picked out "One River, Many Wells" by Matthew Fox, a compilation of sacred texts from all our wisdom traditions. Opened to this page which seems appropriate. Love all creation...and I do. How about you?

Love all Creation.
The whole and every grain of sand in it.
Love every leaf,
and every ray of light.
Love the plants.
Love the animals.
Love everything.
If you love everything,
you will perceive the Divine Mystery
in all things.
Once you perceive it
you will begin to comprehend it better every day.
And you will come at last
to love the whole world
with an all-embracing love.”

Dostoyevsky, from 'Brothers Karamazov'

Tilling the Soil of Your Soul

From my, Sacred Art Studio February Newsletter: 

To sign up go to: www.sacredartstudio.net

 

February 1st just passed and already the first sign of spring has arrived with daffodils emerging from the still slumbering earth. A mild winter in the Northwest but we are still only half way to the Spring Equinox. Tomorrow is Imbolc which originated within the pagan tradition and is one of the cross-quarter days which falls between the Solstice and the Equinox. The day also became associated with the Celtic goddess Brigid, the Celtic goddess who in later times became revered in Christianity as St. Brigid. Originally, Brigid's festival was known as Imbolc or Oimelc, two names which refer to the lactation of the ewes, the flow of milk that heralds the return of the life-giving forces of spring. Later, the Catholic Church replaced this festival with Candlemas Day which is dedicated to the Virgin Mary and features candlelight processions. The powerful figure of Brigid the Light-Bringer overlaps both pagan and Christian celebrations. I love finding these threads between our earth-honoring ancestors and our religious traditions (and the intention behind my artwork) because I believe humanity must remember and reclaim these ancient roots to begin reverencing the earth in such a profound way that we (in developed countries) choose to walk more lightly upon the earth in order to ensure a liveable future for all beings...and for other species!    

In secular culture this time of year became known as Groundhog Day--which was a big deal growing up in New Hampshire where the winters were fierce and we kids yearned for the sun to return so we could play outside again. Growing up, I did not know this yearly visitation of the groundhog had its roots in the ancient ways of our ancestors. Imbolc was a time to start preparing the fields for the first planting and to bless the crop seeds saved and stored from the last harvest. This is the time for purification and renewal. Today, we might begin to till our actual gardens but we can also symbolically till the soil of our souls by letting go of something (or some action) that no longer serves us and plant a seed of intention to bring into our lives what we most want to harvest this year. This year I'm feeling a pull outward, which is in stark contrast to my introverted nature, so am setting an intention for more adventures. This may include travel to some regional conferences with my artwork and/or to offer workshops around these themes. 

Growth and opportunity are abundant in this landscape. During the winter season, we rest in the darkness of the womb and the sun will now purify and bring energy and light to a new vision for ourselves and our world. What are you longing for? What would you like to see bloom more fully in your life, your work, your relationships? Plant the seeds of intention now, nurture the ground, and harvest the gifts as we journey through the cycles of the seasons in the coming year.

Brigid is the goddess of healing, inspiration, and poetry. This poem, "Song" from Wendell Berry-farmer, tiller of the soil and soul, seems appropriate:

Within the circles of our lives 

we dance the circles of the years, 

the circles of the seasons 

within the circles of the years, 

the cycles of the moon 

within the circles of the seasons, 

the circles of our reason 

within the cycles of the moon.

Again, again we come and go, 

changed, changing. Hands 

join, unjoin in love and fear, 

grief and joy. The circles turn, 

each giving into each, into all 

Only music keeps us here,

each by all the others held. 

In the holds of hands and eyes 

we turn in pairs, that joining 

joining each to all again.

And then we turn aside, alone, 

out of the sunlight gone

into the darker circles of return.

As always, I welcome your feedback!

For love of the EARTH

New Year’s by the fire savoring Mary Oliver’s new volume of poetry, “A Thousand Mornings.” Like many of you, I ritually take time contemplating the year’s end and visioning the new one ahead. Journaling the highs and lows both professionally and personally. Recording the memories of a life. Exploring deeper questions around the meaning of existence. A process that often feels contradictory as I ponder the notion of time as invented by humankind. After all, the trees, the birds, nor the moon experience the same yearly passageway (with all its expectations) on December 31st. Nature reminds us daily of the transformative cycles of life and, through her beauty, offers us the gift of presence. Like art and poetry, both likewise bring us into the present, which is all we ever truly have. For me, balancing intentions with present moment awareness can provide some inner peace no matter where this journey takes us in 2013. May you be blessed this day, and every day.

The Gardener

Have I lived long enough?
Have I loved enough?
Have I considered Right Action enough, have I
come to any conclusions?
Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude?
Have I endured loneliness with grace?

I say this, or perhaps I’m just thinking it.
Actually, I probably think too much.

Then I step out into the garden,
where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man,
is tending his children, the roses.

from Mary Oliver’s new collection of poems “A Thousand Mornings.”

Interspiritual World Tree

'Interspiritual World Tree' ©Amy Livingstone

On Winter's Margin

On winter's margin, see the small birds now

With half-forged memories come flocking home

To gardens famous for their charity.

The green globe's broken; vines like tangled veins

Hang at the entrance to the silent wood.

  

With half a loaf, I am the prince of crumbs;

By snow's down, the birds amassed will sing

Like children for their sire to walk abroad!

But what I love, is the gray stubborn hawk

Who floats alone beyond the frozen vines;

  

And what I dream of are the patient deer

Who stand on legs like reeds and drink that wind;

They are what saves the world: who choose to grow

Thin to a starting point beyond this squalor.

  

-by Mary Oliver

  

  

Deepening into the rhythm of the winter season and carving out time to embrace silence and stillness when ever possible, I am feeling inspired and grateful to back in the studio completing and visioning new works now that my father and stepmother are on the mend. Resting on my easel, the "Interspiritual World Tree (36x36")." From Wayne Teasdale's prophetic book, The Mystic Heart: "Interspirituality points to the realization that although there are many spiritual paths, a universal commonality underlies them all." The world tree with branches and leaves spreading out into the cosmos; roots cradling the earth and reaching out in all directions connects us to the web of life. We are One. The imaginal cells in the womb of the earth portend a transformation symbolic of the caterpillar morphing into the butterfly within the chrysalis. Teasdale writes: "We are at the dawn of a new consciousness, a radically fresh approach to our life as the human family in a fragile world. . . .The awakening to our ecological interconnectedness, with its concomitant sense of the preciousness of all other species, raises the earth to where it becomes the center of our moral, aesthetic, economic, political, social, cultural, and spiritual activities." 

Teasdale was writing in the late 90s and it seems to many that we have arrived at this precipice where the dawn of a new consciousness is finally coming into our collective awareness. The ancient prophecies of the Mayans, the Inka, and the Tibetans for example all speak to this time of transformation. We may not know what is ahead but as we journey through the dark towards the return of the light in the coming weeks, perhaps remembering that each of us in our own way are like the imaginal cells doing the work of transformation can guide us towards this new paradigm of ecological interconnectedness. As we discover and connect with each other around this common vision, beauty emerges out of the darkness. 

If you're still looking for a special gift for someone in your life, I am now offering gift certificates. Visit Sacred Art Studio Facebook page to view them. Original art and prints are also available at www.sacredartstudio.net.

Happy Holydays!

Sabbath Poem

While the holiday shopping season gears up here in the states, a poem as a gift for presence, for beauty. For "the world as it was given for love’s sake." From "A Timbered Choir" by Wendell Berry

1979: VII

What if, in the high, restful sanctuary

That keeps the memory of Paradise,

We’re followed by the drone of history

And greed’s poisonous fumes still burn our eyes?

Disharmony recalls us to our work.

From Heavenly work of light and wind and leaf

We must turn back into the peopled dark

Of our unraveling century, the grief

Of waste, the agony of haste and noise.

It is a hard return from Sabbath rest

To lifework of the fields, yet we rejoice,

Returning, less condemned in being blessed

By vision of what human work can make:

A harmony between forest and field,

The world as it was given for love’s sake,

The world by love and loving work revealed

As given to our children and our Maker.

In that healed harmony the world is used

But not destroyed, the Giver and the taker

Joined, the taker blessed, in the unabused

Gift that nurtures and protects. Then workday

And Sabbath live together in one place.

Though mortal, incomplete, that harmony

Is our one possibility of peace.

When field and woods agree, they make a rhyme

That stirs in distant memory the whole

First Sabbath’s song that no largess of time

Or hope or sorrow wholly can recall.

But harmony of earth is Heaven-made,

Heaven-making, is promise and is prayer,

A little song to keep us unafraid,

An earthly music magnified in air.

Offering to the River

 

Offering our nature mandala from the Festival of Faith event last month to the Willamette River. See previous posts for more photos. May we remember that we are interconnected in the web of creation and care for the living earth upon we all dependent. May we have the vision. May it be so.

A Vision

-Wendell Berry

If we will have the wisdom to survive,

to stand like slow-growing trees

on a ruined place, renewing, enriching it,

if we will make our seasons welcome here,

asking not too much of earth or heaven,

then a long time after we are dead

the lives our lives prepare will live here,

their houses strongly placed  upon the valley sides,

fields and gardens rich in the windows.

The river will run clear, as we will never know it,

and over, birdsong like a canopy.

On the levels of the hills will be green meadows,

stock bells in noon shade.

On the steeps where greed and ignorance cut down

the old forest, an old forest will stand,

its rich leaf-fall drifting on its roots.

The veins of forgotten springs will have opened.

Families will be singing in the fields.

In their voices they will hear a music risen out of the ground.

They will take nothing from the ground they will not return,

whatever the grief at parting.

Memory, native to this valley, will spread over it like a grove,

and memory will grow into legend,

legend into song,

song into sacrament.

The abundance of this place,

the songs of its people and its birds,

will be health and wisdom and indwelling light.

This is no paradisal dream.

Its hardship is it possibility.

Sunday Morning Prayer

A morning prayer from Mary Oliver. From her new volume of poetry “A Thousand Mornings.”

A Thousand Mornings
All night my heart makes its way
however it can over the rough ground
of uncertainties, but only until night
meets and then is overwhelmed by
morning, the light deepening, the
wind easing and just waiting, as I
too wait (and when have I ever been
disappointed?) for redbird to sing.

In honor of the Wind

Opened "Love Poems from God" and this poem appeared synchronistically. Seems appropriate with these blustery days in Portland (Oregon). A lovely inspiration for a day in the studio.

On a Day When the Wind is Perfect
-Rumi

On a day
when the wind is perfect,
the sail just needs to open and the world is full of beauty.
Today is such a
day.

My eyes are like the sun that makes promises:
the promise of life
that it always
keeps

each morning.

The living heart gives to us as does that luminous sphere,
both caress the earth with great
tenderness.

There is a breeze that can enter the soul.
This love I know plays a drum. Arms move around me;
who can contain their self before my beauty?

Peace is wonderful,
But ecstatic dance is more fun, and less narcissistic;
gregarious {S}He makes our lips.

On a day when the wind is perfect,
the sail just needs to open
and the love starts.

Today is such
a day.

For the Senses

Are you mindful of how you are moving through the world at any given moment? The senses connecting with all that you encounter. The sensuous world is alive. In The Spell of the Sensuous, David Abram writes: "Direct sensuous reality, in all its more-than-human mystery, remains the sole solid touchstone for an experiential world now inundated with electronically-generated vistas and engineered pleasures; only in regular contact with the tangible ground and sky can we learn how to orient and to navigate in the multiple dimensions that now claim us." Simply stated: stop and smell the roses today...and every day. Life is sweet and all too short. For me, today, beauty abounds in the summer garden and inspiration from the late Irish poet and mystic, John O'Donohue.

For the Senses

May the touch of your skin
Register the beauty
Of the otherness
That surrounds you

May your listening be attuned
To the deeper silence
Where sound is honed
To bring distance home.

May the fragrance
Of a breathing meadow
Refresh your heart
And remind you you are
A child of the earth.

And when you partake
Of food and drink,
May your taste quicken
To the gift and sweetness
That flows from the earth.

May your inner eye
See through the surfaces
And glean the real presence
Of everything that meets you

May your soul beautify
The desire of your eyes
That you might glimpse
The infinity that hides
In the simple sights
That seem worn
To your usual eyes.

John O'Donohue (1956-2008)

Communing with the Creation

Summer Greetings from my July Newsletter:  
Summer has finally arrived in the Pacific Northwest. While the rest of the country has been living under crushing heat waves, here in Oregon our rainy season lasted well into June. Given the level of drought not only in the U.S. but around the world, I bow with gratitude for the life-giving rain. But today, on this gorgeous Sunday morning, I'm thrilled to be sitting in my garden, sipping coffee and listening to the birdsong as I write this note to you. Jays, juncos, and spotted towhees make haste to the freshly-filled feeder while others splash about in the bath hanging from a Ponderosa Pine, waiting their turn.

In last months newsletter (see previous post), I shared how "art saves lives," and indeed saved my life twenty years ago. I also believe like many of us that the natural world can also heal our hearts and bring us peace during these challenging times--personally and collectively. All too often though with the advent of technology, demands of family, and the fast pace of our modern world, we don't take enough time to nurture our souls by communing with the earth. There is a common belief that one need be "out in nature," camping or hiking, etc. However, if we can remember that we are always "in the Creation" at any given moment even in the city, we have the opportunity throughout each day to connect to the beauty that is around us. We need only stop what we are doing and be present to that which is before us. To the air we're breathing. The trees we pass on the road. The food we eat. The water we drink. The bird in that tree...right over there.

From naturalist Terry Tempest Williams: "How to create time, how to create buffers around us so that we are doing nothing. I think that may be our biggest disease right now--the disease of busyness. With all these modern conveniences that are supposed to be time-savers, I think we've never had less time. So I think creating open space, time to do nothing, time to love, time to be, time to dream, to think, to walk, is its own act of civil disobedience."

For me, at this time of year, I take my contemplative practices outside. For example, I practice what I call "bird meditation." Here I use the word meditation loosely. Like one of my spiritual teachers, Adyashanti, I consider this practice a form of silent sitting. Most often the notion of meditation is tied to a rigorous practice utilizing breath and body with a desired outcome in mind. Typically "enlightenment" or freedom from some sort of emotional or mental anguish, or suffering, etc. For Adya this is another form of striving much like anything we undertake in our lives which only adds to our suffering. Here, the ego strives for control which ultimately leads to more feelings of failure and self-criticism. Instead, this silent sitting, or bird meditation in my example, allows for simply letting everything be as it is with no striving. You cannot "fail" with this practice. You are simply present to all that is around you, within and without including the Creation, the earth, which is holy and worthy of our reverence.   

In the morning, I spend forty-five minutes to an hour silently sitting which often begins with reading a sacred text such as poetry. In silence and stillness, being with what is in this present moment, grounds me before I begin my work day. You may not have an hour, but even fifteen minutes a day before you turn on your computer or phone, can make a difference and bring some inner peace into your world. Try it and let me know what you discover. 
 
For love of the EARTH!  
 Amy    
  
A Beauty Blessing
-John O'Donohue
 
As stillness in stone to silence is wed
May your heart be somewhere a God might dwell.
 
As a river flows in ideal sequence
May your soul discover time in presence.
 
As the moon absolves the dark of resistance
May thought-light console your mind with brightness.
 
As the breath of light awakens colour
May the dawn anoint your eyes with wonder.
 
As spring rain softens the earth with surprise
May your winter places be kissed by light.
 
As the ocean dreams to the joy of dance
May the grace of change bring you elegance.
 
As clay anchors a tree in light and wind
May your outer life grow from peace within.
 
As twilight fills night with bright horizons
May beauty await you at home beyond.