Saturday, February 27, 2010
You know how it is. Sometimes you just run out of ideas to blog about. So, during one of these void-in-the-brain episodes, I asked a friend to give me a random word and I would write a post about it. She said,
"Oh, I don't know.......... acorn."
And the void was quickly filling in with all kinds of random thoughts.
I thought I could tell you about the beautiful photo I recently saw on the front cover of a book with a new tree sprouting out of a split acorn. It was exquisite. And I will always wonder how the photographer captured that gem. Was it a set up? Or did someone actually stumble upon this miracle in the natural world?
I could tell you how funny it was that just a few days after I was offered this word, it showed up on a license plate on the car in front of me. Why would someone have the word acorn on their license plate??? What are the chances that I would happen to see it?
I could tell you stories about this sweet little squirrel (portrait above) who I made friends with during a trip to Long Beach last year.
I could talk about something deep and profound. The symbolism of the acorn. New beginnings and such.
But really, I shamelessly admit that all I can think about is the poor little critter and his relentless quest to attain his most precious beloved, yet elusive acorn in this scene from Ice Age 2. I saw this in a packed theater some time ago and had one of those torturous moments where I could not hold in my laughter. The scene wasn't even the funniest scene, but at that moment, for me and no one else, it became unbearably funny. When everyone else stopped laughing, I found myself suffocating, trying desperately to hold it in which makes you feel like you are going to burst into an embarrassing explosion of furious laughter, drawing unwanted attention to yourself.
We've all had them.
My favourite is when you see a newsperson trying to keep it together during a live broadcast. And the harder he tries to stay serious, the more likely it is that he is going to fall apart. If he only had the freedom to just get it out, the humour would quickly fade and normalcy would take it's rightful place once again.
Nothing is more agonizing than trying to supress an outburst when it is not appropriate to laugh. It's kind of like being tickled. A seemingly good feeling that is SO VERY NOT!
All of this over an innocent, unassuming little acorn.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
a month.... October
a day.... a rainy Saturday
an adjective.... free
a colour.... sea glass
a flower.... poppy
a musical instrument.... wind chimes
a fruit.... starfruit
a shoe.... flip flop
a planet... saturn doing the hula hoop
a taste.... salty sweet
an emotion.... sensitive
a song.... Alive by Edwin
a store.... Pink Sugar cupcakery
a book.... Romancing the Ordinary~ Breathnach
a scent.... vanilla bean
a tool.... telescope
a tree.... maple
a creature...mason bee
a verb.... love
For Relyn. Thank you for the inspiration.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Some fresh air will do you good. Really.
I haven't been blogging for over three weeks. I haven't been climbing my mountain for over three months. For a while now I have been directing so much of my energy towards my outer realms....making room for deepening connections....that it's almost as though my inner planet has tilted off its axis. And while I have been aware of this for some time (finding a balance between what I need inwardly and what I need outwardly has always been a struggle), it wasn't until I tied my laces and headed for the mountain this morning, that I realised how far off track I had actually wandered.
Immediately I noticed a welcome committee of birdsong, and I could almost hear the trees whispering where have you been? We missed you. As I moved deeper into the woods and up the familiar slopes I felt as though I was being hugged by an old friend. It felt so good to be back.
A few months ago, I started to feel apathetic about climbing my mountain. I began to get bored, which has never happened to me in the eight years I have been climbing. This really bothered me because I knew it was an important part of my day to come and find my inner spaces. It wasn't just a good work out for me...it was a daily meditation that centered me for the rest of the day.
But sometimes I think we need to take a break from things to really find our appreciation for them again. I didn't want to come back until I was truly ready to make a commitment to myself, and climb daily. So when I returned this morning, I knew, without a doubt that it was time. It felt so good to be there. What was too familiar and commonplace a few months ago was now beautifully familiar and comforting now. I found myself pausing in certain places, just so I could look around and breathe it all in again. The old knotted oak trees are covered in a flourescent aqua marine lichen...the hillsides are bright green with moss and new grasses...baby leaves are sprouting from branches, slowly filling in the empty spaces that Autumn left behind.
As I walk out of these spaces, and back into the busy world, I walk down a path under a tunnel of tree branches and it feels like I am emerging out of a womb. I am leaving the quiet forest where I have room to think and be with the gentle rhythms of nature, and moving back into the daily busyness of living and doing.
It really is a different world on that mountain. Within that mountain. And it has everything to do with how and when I come here to write. Many of my thoughts are gathered there. Most often, I write my posts just after I have climbed, when my energy is high, and my creativity is flowing, sometimes overflowing.
And I feel ready to be here once again. Writing and sharing, taking pictures of beautiful things, visiting with you, reading your words and ideas, being inspired by your creative lives. I cannot do these things if I am not in touch with my insides. I have strayed too long, and had to set my planet back on its proper axis. What a difference a little bit of fresh air will do you.