Articulating Silence - Deciphering Dreams - Exploring Inner Landscapes

Showing posts with label Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Show all posts

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Sweet and Tart





Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind. 

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Today is a lovely day by the water.  The lull of the waves, the peace of the gentle breeze, and the sun shining upon my face settle me into my lazy chair.  My toes dig deeply into the warmth of the sand while my eyes gently close in reverie.

It is then that I see you, my friend.  You are sitting on your porch waiting, just waiting for me to pass by.  We happily embrace and eagerly I sink into the waiting chair.  You have made lemonade for us, sweet and tart, just like life can sometimes be.

We sit and chat, laughing at the really big things and crying over some of the little niggling things.  We gently clasp hands, exchanging the 'knowing' that we each share, that our friendship will always endure, and that we will be connected forever more.

Time has passed oh too quickly and it is time I am back on my way.  We hug yet again, promising soon, so soon we will be together again to open our hearts, to share life's burdens, and to chase the darkness away. 

The seagull calls to me and I gently open my eyes.  The tide has rolled in and the waves are inches from my edge.  The sun is now resting behind a cloud, and the breeze blows my day dream away. 







Monday, May 21, 2012

Freedom in Chasing Bubbles






Resolve and thou art free.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Bubbles are very freeing!  I have always loved the simplicity and magical quality of bubbles.  I not only loved them as a child, I was delighted to fall in love with them again with my children and once more with my grandchildren.

Years ago when I worked down town a card shop had a bubble machine pointing out onto the sidewalk.  I could hardly wait until lunch time when I could walk back and forth feeling the bubbles pop on my face and clothing.  I begged my co-workers to go with me to enjoy this stress releasing activity.  They grew so tired of my manipulations, they bought me my very own bubble machine for my birthday.

At the time, I was living in a condo with a very small but secluded courtyard.  I could hardly wait for the weekend to set up my bubble machine and leisurely read on my porch swing.  It was so calming to watch the bubbles float while the colors glistened in the sun. On windy days, I could hear people walking by commenting about the bubbles, wondering where they were coming from.  I could hear them laugh as the bubbles danced their way. 

When my daughter turned 30 years old, I brought my bubble machine to her party and individual bubbles for each guest.  As we shared memories and blew our own bubbles in the candle light, the evening took on a magical glow.

When my grandson turned five years old, I gifted him with his very own bubble machine.  Oh what fun we had!  Running and chasing bubbles flying in the air. 

There is freedom in chasing bubbles and this simple act sets our spirits free.  Freedom is the natural way of living too soon forgotten, left behind in childhood. 

The next time you are feeling out of sorts, grab a bottle of bubbles and head for the out doors.  Then blow your worries away! 

  

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Finding Safe Passage






The heights by great men
reached and kept,
were not attained by sudden flight,
but they,
while their companions slept,
were toiling upward in the night.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


In my late twenties, I was reading a book that supported the idea of re-framing our language to change our self-assessments and general out look on living.  The substitution of words that impacted me the most were "I made a mistake," instead of "I failed."  Somehow, I had been thinking that every time I did not succeed or perform to the best of my abilities, I had failed. Failing carries a great deal of pressure and judgment whereas making a mistake is correctable and forgivable.  

Several months ago, I was reading an inspirational message suggesting the substitution for the word "worry" with the word "wonder."  I thought I would give it a try, and once again I felt a definite shift in how these two words impacted me.  The word worry is frequently accompanied by stress, anxiety, and tension.  The word wonder is light, creative, and positive in nature.

Now enters Dr. Wayne Dyer who distinguishes between the two words beliefs and knowledge.  "Beliefs," Dr. Dyer explains, "are notions we acquire from the outside world -  judgments and world view of those who influence us.  Knowledge, on the other hand, proceeds from within.  We know what we know because we know it, and it has nothing to do with what anyone else tells us or does."

The difference between words can alter the cadence of our life.  By re-framing through the choice of using words that are accurately defined and less harsh, alters how we feel about our selves and the world we live in.  For example, the word "sin" is derived from a Greek archery term meaning "to miss the mark." How in the world did this word get so twisted into a threat of being condemned to hell?

We choose our words carefully.  We try not to offend.  We speak in a way that others will understand us and accept us.  And the more we do this, the farther we grow away from our own truth and identity.

I had been selected to be a part of a team to present an inspirational message to an audience of emotionally and spiritually wounded human beings.  I was very excited about this opportunity and I gathered several of my favorite books to be used as resources.  I quickly made an outline that would include all of the support the audience would be wanting to hear.

The team met for a preliminary meeting and the chairman, a man I greatly respected, examined our outlines and accompanying notes.  I knew he would be very pleased with my expertise.  After he read through my material,  I could tell that in his hesitation he was trying to find the best words. 

This kind gentleman looked me right in the eye and said, "These are wonderful facts based in psychology and sociology, but I want you to go home and write from your heart."  I was stunned.

Eager to do my best, I immediately picked up my pen and started writing based on my feelings from personal experience.  I wrote what I felt was a definite part of my self.  I understood that the listeners would not be hearing from my professional self, but from my own wounds and healing.

At the weekend retreat, I did not find my self to be nervous.  I was uncomfortable with allowing my self to be so vulnerable, but I was willing to be open.  I asked spirit to use my words to comfort all who were present.

The end result was overwhelming.  Without referring to one note, I spoke to the hearts of each person present.  I offered encouragement and the promise of living in the light again.  There was not a dry eye in the audience when I ended with, "It is not enough to know God's love, we must be God's love."  I have 'no' idea where those words came from other than the knowledge that dwells within us.

So when we are crossing a bridge from one section of life into the next and a fog seems to settle in, we can think about the impact of our words.  We must choose our words wisely from our heart as we work steadily to improve our life.  The fog will clear, the sun will rise, and we will find safe passage once again.




 

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Some Rain Must Fall ...






Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow