Breath of Fresh Air

       

       

"Who will tell whether one happy moment of love or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies.

Erich Fromm

Today, I was allowed to breathe in fresh air.  The sun was shining on my face and precious breaths of pure air filled my lungs.  I felt more alive than I have in months.  These cleansing breaths poured over my troubled thoughts, sluggish body, and tainted cells.  I am alive once again.

It is like this when traveling the spiral, repeating lessons, and healing a little deeper each slide around a coil.   These transitions seemingly take forever when I am anticipating the very next segment.  I wait and wait, but when nothing rises on the horizon fear settles in ... what if there is nothing more? 

Seclusion seemed the most obvious way to settle my mind and open my heart to something new.  To eliminate distractions I focused  on reading, writing, and contemplating, but I did not seem to speed a transition along.  Desperate, I finally reached out to kindred spirits, hoping for some direction to appear.  Foolish gesture, indeed as all answers are within.  

Aware of my despair, a special soul held my hand and walked with me into my depths, helping to clear the debris blocking my path.   With her wisdom, she silently held her light for me to see more clearly the illusion of fear. She witnessed the dawning of my need to get out of my own way.

A surprise gathering of three eclectic spirits  reminded me of the power we all hold within.  As if waking from a long winter's nap, my strengths stretched  awakening the better parts of me.  How could I have fallen into such a deep sleep that I could no longer hear what I deeply know and what I have learned through a life time of lessons. 

My soul sounds like it is humming, happy to be inspired once again.  The breath of fresh air has ignited my visions and creative play is bouncing around in my head.  I had been worried my spiritual contract was complete, but today I know I am very far from done!

Silence Not Allowed

Trust that little voice in your head that says

'Wouldn't it be interesting if ... '

And then do it.

Duane Michals

This season seems to be playing havoc with my sinuses and allergies.  When I don't ward off the headache early on, it tends to slop over into a migraine.  Once the pain gets ahead of me, I can be down for hours.

Louise L. Hay states that headaches occur when "Invalidating the self.  Self-criticism. Fear."  She suggests we use an affirmation such as:  "I love and approve of myself.  I see myself and what I do with eyes of love.  I am safe."  Of migraine headaches she reports, "Dislike of being driven.  Resisting the flow of life.  Sexual fears."  The recommended affirmation: "I relax into the flow of life and let life provide all that I need easily and comfortably.  Life is for me."

Others report migraines stem from repressed anger.  This, of course, is a subject I know only to well.  As a child, I cringed at loud voices, arguments, fighting, and any display of anger.  I vowed to myself I would never be angry.  So as a re-frame, I would say my feelings were hurt rather than embracing the human emotion,  anger.  All I was doing was repressing all of my anger inside of me.  This does damage on several levels ... body, mind, and spirit. 

This last year I spent some time exploring my angry feelings.  I then gave my lovely self permission to use my voice in expressing my anger.  Wow, was I ever surprised.  Instead of experiencing repercussions I discovered a sense of freedom and closure.  The problem was brought out into the open, addressed, and resolved.  It was all a matter of using my voice in an appropriate manner and being willing to listen to the other side.  All those years of repressing my feelings out of fear did more harm than simply voicing my anger.

The voice is an incredible tool and it is amazing when a person is blessed with the gift of song. The voice, however,  needs to be used for expression whether in the written word or outloud.  We should not allow ourselves to be silenced.

In his book, THE BOOK OF AWAKENING, Mark Nepo reflects:  "For even if no one hears us, it is the act of speaking that frees us."  We can express our words through any of the arts (painting, writing, singing, lyrics to music or poems, dance, etc... )  The experience is liberating, so much more fun than suffering a pounding headache.

Articulating on a Blank Page



Every secret of a writer's soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind is written large in his works.

         Virginia Woolf (1882-1941)

The travel from Key West went smoothly and safely all of the way to our doorstep.  With thankful and grateful hearts, it was good to deeply breathe in the unforgettable fragrances of home.  There was great comfort in sleeping in our own beds with our familiar pillows and linens. 

When I made my coffee this morning, I was delighted to find a male cardinal showing it self off in the layer of snow freshly fallen upon the ground.  His amazing red image was heightened by the white of the snow and his singing of a song.  Smaller birds were gathered in the bush as if to personally welcome me home.

Today I will have to unpack, do laundry, and then re-pack as I will leave shortly for Nashville, Tennessee.  I had committed to spending spring break with my daughter not realizing how closely it fell to our arrival home.  I do look forward to the long drive as it is always undisturbed thinking time while the beauty of nature appears at every glance.  A visit with my daughter ... well, that is like getting a whole body healing.  Nothing delights me more to feel her love, interest, touch, and quiet times we have always shared over the years.

As I transition today, I am physically accomplishing things needing to be done, but there are words bulging inside of me.  There are thoughts and theories needing to flow onto paper allowing creative release.  I recognize there are some words never meant to be spoken, but only to be squandered upon a waiting blank page.

Largest Art Festival in USA at Coconut Grove

We need to give each other the space to grow, to be ourselves, to exercise diversity. We need to give each other space so that we may both give and receive beautiful things as ideas, openness, dignity, joy, healing, and inclusion. ~ Max de Pree

 

Traveling with our friends, we drove through all of the Florida Keys headed for Miami. It was a three hour drive, but the views along the way were very inspiring. Our friends explained the history of each Key and how it had significantly grown or suffered. This long drive took us to the largest art festival in the United States. The Coconut Art Festival was celebrating 50 successful years with over 350 artists on site and more than 500,000 people expected to attend. This is a juried show with highly skilled artists, best quality work, and exceptional offerings from across the United States, Canada, and a few other countries.
 

The skill of each artist was so unique nothing seemed replicated. There were oils, water colors, multi-media and even embroidered I had never seen displayed before. There were etchings in pencil and glass, pottery in Miami style, unique jewelry for all occasions, spectacular glass pieces for walls, vases, and table top decorations. Much to my surprise, I came upon a jewelry maker I had purchased from at the Peoria Art Festival in Illinois. (I knew she was counting on me, so I bought from her again. I couldn't let her down!) Other artists offered metal works, sculptures, fibers and painted silk, wood creations and leather designs. In addition, there were performing artists and individual musicians scattered throughout the show. In the attempt to not exclude any artist, there was an entire section of culinary arts with amazing food and chefs.
 

This was an amazing experience. I have attended art shows and festivals for years now, and I have to admit even though this was the largest scale art show I have ever attended, not one tent nor exhibitor had failed to reflect their unique interpretation of what they had honed their skills to create. 
 

These artists truly reflected the concept of remaining focused on individual interpretation, extending time and money on the preferred skill, rather than spending energy on duplicating some one else's creation or style. They followed their personal instincts with passion and the results were extremely creative gifts. We found some of the artists visiting other artists to buy what they honored in others. One jewelry artist was looking at a beautiful silk painted shawl. She was willing to support others in what they did best. Artists respecting the exceptional qualities in others promotes diversity and good will.
 

One particular young woman will always stand out in my mind, Teresa Merriman.  Her business is MIND'S EYE JOURNALS.  She was from Colorado and created exceptional journals. She had made the paper which was high quality, and then prepared leather of different shades to cover each journal. She also bound all of the journals her self. There were three different sizes and not one a like. The higher end prices were on the journals adorned with leather covers plus uniquely individual metal disks. These journals were high quality artistic offerings. I loved talking with this artist at length and regretfully didn't buy one. I felt I would never have anything worthy enough to say to grace the lovely pages in this exceptional journal.  Her skilled crafts (woman) ship can be viewed at: 
www.MindsEyeJournals.com
 

We also attended the neighboring art festival (We walked out of one and right into another) composed of artists applying too late to get juried for the larger show. It was also very entertaining. In a delightfully older school building, High Tea was being offered with fresh strawberries on scones. We of course wanted to support their efforts as well.
 

After stimulating the economy in this creative heaven, we were ready to head home. With a three hour return drive a head of us, we had plenty of time to share our favorite experience or food from the day. Half-way back we experienced a wonderful dinner at The Green Turtle giving ourselves time to rest and regroup. We had left our rental house by 7:30 am and returned exhausted by 10:30 pm, but what a magnificent day.

Writers Retreat 2013

Encourage, lift, and strengthen one another.  For the positive energy spread to one will be felt by us all.  For we are connected, one and all.

Deborah Day



The day our writers group decided to plan an all day retreat, I was not in attendance, but I was exhilarated just by the thought!  Imagine, an entire day to be inspired, encouraged, and surrounded by wisdom.  And of course there would be food!

A simple agenda was put together and each of us committed to being responsible for different aspects of our day. Our space was offered to us by the mother of one of the writer's.  What a blessing! We were quarantined in a writer's haven for private roaming, stimulating conversation, and quiet contemplation.  We met our needs ... cinnamon rolls and coffee or tea; homemade squash soup with various root veggies;  grilled muenster  cheese on marbleized pumpernickel bread; spinach salad with avocados, and fresh raspberries; chips and salsa; fruit platter; and brownies to die for!  Yes, our bellies were filled, but our souls over flowed!

Gathered around the table, I breathed in the energy of each present woman.  None of us are the same age, none of us are particularly alike one or the other, none of us do the same thing in life, and yet there is an undeniable bond holding us together.  We each bring something unique to our writers table without competition, criticism or negative intention.  For each other we hold a space where we can be vulnerable, uncertain, expose our inner doubts and share our spiritual gains. 

There were tears to be shed, but each droplet reflected the beauty of a heart so gently squeezed.  Self-disclosure sat in the middle of the table numerous times, supported by acceptance, understanding, and new perspectives.  Random and impromptu writings amazed us all as we listened to the beauty of our blended words.
We held space at the table for those who were not physically present, and their energy was felt by all.

In the last minutes gathered around the writers table, we quietly reflected on our own transformation from the day.  We searched the eyes of each other with gratitude and thanksgiving.  We each felt the tug of the bond binding us together.  Somehow we all acknowledged what we do for ourselves, we do for each other. Our writings, our courage, and our creative  energy is offered for the benefit of one and for all. 

Words Upon the Page

And by the way,

everything in life is writable about

if you have the outgoing guts to do it,

and the imagination to improvise.

The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

                                           Sylvia Plath

Ever since I was a little girl, I have been writing and reading and then writing some more.  There is very little else I enjoy more than writing, unless of course it is reading.  I have  felt freedom and joy placing pen onto paper and allowing my thoughts to take form and flow.  I don't have to think about what to write, there seems to be something just waiting there.  Waiting to take form in the perfect words and then spring forth in perfect words.

Writing is a way to ease things out of me or to sort through random thoughts clamoring for structure and order.  It is also the means of engaging with you, sharing questions and sought after answers.  Carefully placing my words upon paper is an effort for me to make things right, to help set the world in a better way.  The more we can understand each other, the smaller the world will seem and we hopefully can stay out of harm's way. 

My words are no greater than any others, but they are honest and true.  There means to be no implication that my beliefs are exclusively accurate, for all people need to find their own words and express them in their own way.

Words are colors dancing in my thoughts.  Each word has its own rhythm and tone.  Some may be similar, but each meaning is enitrely its own.  Some words bring images and by joining these images, a mini-theater unfolds in my head. 

This process almost works in reverse in that the slower I go, the more details race in.  It is as though the rehersals have already been run, and in this final act no one wants to be cut from the show.  Carefully, I go, making certain the smallest detail is captured to complete the story you will behold.

Thoughts take form in words that are written upon the page.  It is reliving or recalling or manifesting dreams, desires, or pain.  There seems to be great healing once everything is neatly displayed. Thank you for meeting me here, to witness this page.



We Are All Called

Do not die with your music still in you!

Wayne Dyer

What makes the heart sing?  Are there words to the music we only  hum?  Where does the cadence of happiness originate?  Who creates the melody accompanying joy?

We all have a song of some sort within our heart.  A melody, perhaps, that brings us comfort or inspiration.  A dream that needs to be set in motion.  As unique human beings, we all have an original score to bring out into the world. 

We are not all Masters or Artists, but this is not a reason to prevent each of us from contributing in creative ways, big or small.  There are inventors, entrepreneurs, and explorers, who are every day people being brave enough to submit their notes out into the world. 

Lyrics come in dreams, conversations, and literature we choose to read.  They present themselves during exercise or cleaning or watching a child play. 

Inspiration needs to be shared, as we are all called to create.  Whether it is a matter of sharing a garden flower arrangement or an undeveloped scientific formula, we are called to leave a trace of our authentic selves in the midst of others.  We can extend this creative part of ourselves either discreetly or boldly, however we decide.  Just follow through and do it!

The Artist Within

The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising and gave to it neither power nor time.

Mary Oliver

Individuals every where have a special gift or talent.  Unfortunately, many of us take the gift or talent for granted or never use it at all.  If we channel our gift into a creative expression, it would allow us to feel more satisfied, complete or full.

When we use our gift, we generate a higher level of self-esteem  which impacts our body, mind, and spirit.   We physically feel better, we have more clarity from stress relief, and might even be able to share or teach our talent to someone else.

Whether it is writing poetry, playing tennis or designing a flower garden, creative expression adds depth to our sense of living.  The self-imposed expectation of perfection often crimps our flair or stops us dead in our tracks.  The desire to master adds more pressure to our attempt to simply enjoy and drags competition along with it.  We need to be free and not limit ourselves through self-criticism and judgment. 

Discover  a desire or passion  for something whether it be antiquing, photography or art.  If we do not have a sense of what we want to do, explore classes or community resources.  Experience several opportunities until something really resonates.  If we already know our strength, we can volunteer at a kids club or senior center to share what we do best.  We can create an art studio or a writing room or a sacred place in the corner of a room. 

The importance of blending creative expression into our lives is that it makes us expand our awareness of ourselves and helps us to feel more alive.  It reduces our mind chatter and assists us in connecting with other levels of reality.  What is that old saying, "Use it or lose it!"

Author of Our Own Life

If you do not breathe through writing,

if you do not cry out in writing,

or sing in writing,

then don't write,

because our culture has no use for it.

Anais Nin

Writing can be very intimidating, but it also can be very freeing. I am most attracted to personal writing as we are author of our own life.  We live according to what we personally perceive, sense, intuit, experience, and believe.  We react and act through our own personal filters.  The written word gives testimony of life itself.

Our writing can be:  lists, notes, diaries, letters, journals, articles, or books to name but a few.  Some insist upon the hand written word with special pens, where as others exclusively use a computer. People use spiral notebooks, composition books, fine linen stationary or keep files on their computer.   I believe writers need to honor the method that works best for them.

Many people have said to me, "I want to write, but I don't have the skill." If we are alive, we have something worth sharing and we don't need a special skill!  I encourage others to write just for personal pleasure rather than trying to perfect words for publication.  In time, a writer may or may not want to broaden the audience.

Giving testimony of our life can be a liberation from the past or self-imposed limitations.  Our words placed into a safe place can be a wonderful mental health remedy.  We can scream, laugh, and express any and every emotion that is otherwise held within causing stress, anxiety or disease. 

As the author of our own life, what we write definitely helps our selves, but also can benefit others.  By sharing a personal story encouragement can be offered to others.  The reporting of a struggle can inspire an other to seek help or not feel so alone.  To use the voice to speak truth, those who hear can stretch and grow. 

My passion is the written word.  If I can touch but one life with my words, my mission has been fulfilled.

Behold this woman named Mel ...

Sometimes you have to be apart from people you love,

but that doesn't make you love them any less.

Sometimes you love them more.

Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

Melanie, on the surface, is a gentle and polite young woman.  She has long curling blond hair and a delicate face graced with simplistic beauty.  It is in her gentle eyes that I first began to sense that there was much more under the first impressions.

Women are complex creatures, and Mel is definitely multifaceted.  Raised on a farm in Ohio, she attended college in California, and did social work in Chicago.  She has a deep reverence for seniors that is equally bestowed upon animals.

One of her many gifts is working with Mother Nature.  She creates exquisite floral arrangements that are uniquely designed as well as displayed.  She has ten green thumbs that make quick work out of any yard or garden using color, dimension, and a natural grace to the requested task.  She has an inner sense that connects people with their own style and space.

In relationship with Andy, her husband, Melanie is tender, loving, and kind appropriately tempered with humor and strong will.  In friendship, Mel is giving, undemanding, thoughtful and supportive.  She is an excellent natural cook being very health conscious with grains and veggies. She is a 'sister of the heart' and someone who could never be replaced.

Before  imagining her as some piece of fluff or delicate flower, allow me to bring balance to her creative feminine side.  Dear sweet Mel can drive a tractor, tinker with engines, and address electrical wiring.  She has a strong physical strength residing within her slim built frame. 

This last January on the 20th (I'll check that date with Andy),

I had the priviledge of witnessing the birth of their daughter, Juniper Rose (yes, named after my daughter).  Mel's labor persisted all through one day and half way through the night.  The strength of her determination and physical endurance indeed were remarkable.  Although I have given birth to the total of four, watching the birth of this beautiful and healthy babe moved me beyond all imagination. 

As a mother, Melanie is captivated by the miracle of her little child.  She is open to learning, overcomes the imperfections associated with motherhood, and blankets this child in love.  She is a Mama Bear to this baby cub, and I sure wouldn't want to mess with her!

Without being irreverent, I could almost visualize this young woman as a Madonna.  Like some women have been categorized in history,  Melanie presents as a gentle spirit of this world and of that which hovers beyond.  She is a special blend of sweetness and the salt of the earth.  I honor her own birth and celebrate her life as distance has made me love her more.