stand for a moment, in the cool November morning,
and take in it's iconic beauty of place.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
11.11.16 Just a minute ago
stopped by the dirt road of the old Food Bank Farm, to
stand for a moment, in the cool November morning,
and take in it's iconic beauty of place.
stand for a moment, in the cool November morning,
and take in it's iconic beauty of place.
11.11.16 You are the one who watches
You aren't the one thinking and watching and worrying
and yearning and having loss and anticipating gain
and looking forward and gazing backward.
You are the one watching the one do all that. Y
ou are the one who, stepping back in awareness
and settling down into yourself, simply watches.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1127708317265951/
and yearning and having loss and anticipating gain
and looking forward and gazing backward.
You are the one watching the one do all that. Y
ou are the one who, stepping back in awareness
and settling down into yourself, simply watches.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1127708317265951/
11.10.16 Til it came to fruition
down by the Eagle Sanctuary
salmon and orange and pink blossoming beneath
the deepening dark blue heavens overhead
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1127168400653276/
salmon and orange and pink blossoming beneath
the deepening dark blue heavens overhead
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1127168400653276/
11.10.16 It burst out
over the skies stretched along the river,
and spread and brightened and shone.
and spread and brightened and shone.
11.10.16 Never was
I was never good at eating meat. Animals and fish and others with eyes and mouths.
There were too many to thank, taking their lives from them and pushing their lives into mine.
I would turn and look at my small arm with it's pale white skin and it's goose bumps and then look at my plate with the dead chicken body and it's goose bumps.
I'd look at fish muscles and the boiled-while-dying lobster face and it would simply be too much. And make too much sense that it was too much.
I wondered, how could you say that much thankyou?
How could your thankyous be good enough for the cow to have its baby taken away so I could have milk or butter or cheese or yogurt?
These are the things I have wondered.
I tried to be a proper meat eater when I was growing up, but it was no good.
I could never seem to do the math.
There were too many to thank, taking their lives from them and pushing their lives into mine.
I would turn and look at my small arm with it's pale white skin and it's goose bumps and then look at my plate with the dead chicken body and it's goose bumps.
I'd look at fish muscles and the boiled-while-dying lobster face and it would simply be too much. And make too much sense that it was too much.
I wondered, how could you say that much thankyou?
How could your thankyous be good enough for the cow to have its baby taken away so I could have milk or butter or cheese or yogurt?
These are the things I have wondered.
I tried to be a proper meat eater when I was growing up, but it was no good.
I could never seem to do the math.
11.9.16 Do you ever do that thing...
See a photo of another day or time, yesterday or before, and realize that at that time, you didn't know what you know now?
And you get all blown away by the relativity of time? Of experience?
Like, "Oh, that was yesterday. Wow. I had no idea this would happen. But now it has come to pass. I can hardly believe it. It seems impossible."
And you just know it's going to take some time for it to sink in. To play out, the real deal and all the possible scenarios.
Kind of like the way that, once you dream of something, you know your insides have finally gotten the news.
11.9.16 All's well that ends well
For our day.
Sleep peacefully and deeply without a care,
so you will wake up refreshed
and ready for the new day,
with all it holds in store.
inch by inch, row by row, we will effect change.
Sleep peacefully and deeply without a care,
so you will wake up refreshed
and ready for the new day,
with all it holds in store.
inch by inch, row by row, we will effect change.
11.9.16 A litle FB story
Post Election Day, a good time to cool out
and settle ourselves back down
in the ebb and flow of our lives.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208154840292243/
and settle ourselves back down
in the ebb and flow of our lives.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208154840292243/
11.9.16 It's just one of those
Turn down days
I stood by the puddle this morning, down by the farmers fields, breathing in and out,
digesting the day. Watching rain drops slowly fall from the overcast November sky, into the puddle, and then resonate outward through the waters. Water is Life.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1126047504098699/
I stood by the puddle this morning, down by the farmers fields, breathing in and out,
digesting the day. Watching rain drops slowly fall from the overcast November sky, into the puddle, and then resonate outward through the waters. Water is Life.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1126047504098699/
11.8.16 Breathless
The bright red leaves riverside, turning, and the
unfathomable shifting cloud colors, reflected upon
the rushing waters of the river.
Water Is Life.
unfathomable shifting cloud colors, reflected upon
the rushing waters of the river.
Water Is Life.
11.7.16 I'm thinking about hot stultifying humid summer days.
I'm thinking about hot stultifying humid summer days. I'm remembering so-freezing-cold-your-face-and-teeth-ache times. I'm having my precious day of small precious this and that , the small early morning walk-run. The gift of an appointment, and then a dear friend who comes by and magically leaves the messy kitchen spotless. Shoemaker's elves, perchance?
Of tough medical calls and plans and decisions, and bright shout outs from a beloved sibling.
Of sweet interchanges with the one I love, while the earth turns and fall settles in.
I find myself old enough to know better with that election time useless cram-the-emotions-in crap, thank goodness. Age has some great gifts.
Too old and not fool enough to speculate , to fear monger, and no longer motivated to gather together and weep and moan.
Because these days, it's more like
Do Your Best, whatever you can manage these days.
Be your values as well as you can, and keep improving.
Don't rail and moan and whip your hair around and gnash your teeth.
Just deal with it and live it and see what's possible, and in the midst of difficulty and least desired outcomes and big life surprises, keep your head up and do what works
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208140999226225/
Of tough medical calls and plans and decisions, and bright shout outs from a beloved sibling.
Of sweet interchanges with the one I love, while the earth turns and fall settles in.
I find myself old enough to know better with that election time useless cram-the-emotions-in crap, thank goodness. Age has some great gifts.
Too old and not fool enough to speculate , to fear monger, and no longer motivated to gather together and weep and moan.
Because these days, it's more like
Do Your Best, whatever you can manage these days.
Be your values as well as you can, and keep improving.
Don't rail and moan and whip your hair around and gnash your teeth.
Just deal with it and live it and see what's possible, and in the midst of difficulty and least desired outcomes and big life surprises, keep your head up and do what works
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208140999226225/
11.7.16 This part of town
waking up
All the young neighborhood crows, banded together for the winter; leaving their South Hadley roost, and going out for breakfast.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1124068394296610/
The Goshawk, playing in the winds, while hunting.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1123521431017973/
The sun spills, the geese in flight
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1124070607629722/
Yuck. For the car. For the house. For the bed.
And I can't resist letting the boyo have his mud puddle fun.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1124404100929706/
All the young neighborhood crows, banded together for the winter; leaving their South Hadley roost, and going out for breakfast.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1124068394296610/
The Goshawk, playing in the winds, while hunting.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1123521431017973/
The sun spills, the geese in flight
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1124070607629722/
Yuck. For the car. For the house. For the bed.
And I can't resist letting the boyo have his mud puddle fun.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1124404100929706/
11.7.16 There are so many different flavors of lives
Different ways we move along. So many variations of devastating or beneficial circumstances, choices, and how the whole thing plays out.
Always, there are so many things we spend so much time yearning for, that, for the most part, we do not 'get' to 'have'.
But if we try some time, we just might fine that, the longer we are here, the more capable we can become at settling down with what we have at hand. And let the hobby of yearning pass away.
My own has been rendered into this small quiet thing. Every day I know more people for whom this is the experience they end up with.
Because I was a healthcare practitioner for so many years, and trained other people, mentored people and supported them, there are these remarkable people who consistently offer me support. Sessions. They are there for me. Something I never imagined.
They modify conditions , support other symptoms, pull everything together when it starts to implode, and when I am able, I pay them perhaps with one very small painting. Or a bouquet of wildflowers from down the street. A piece of writing I did the other day. Maybe a poem. A tiny bottle of aromatic oil.
The small things become gratitude i can hand them. That speaks to them, saying that I am so grateful for the difference they make in my life with their caring expertise.
when they have aligned my pain, soothed my nervous system, strengthened my organs and problematic joints and old injuries. Modified pain. Cooled out distress.
The funny thing is, this is my life's work. This is what I did for almost 30 years. It was my absolute puja and delight, often enough whether people had money or not. To soothe all these things, and help the person create stability and balance in life and health. It was an amazing thing to get to do. And now the task becomes receiving.
It seems this is often enough true for most of us, who are not in abject overwhelm from our life circumstances. We manage to care and extend ourselves and offer ourselves up to soothe and create balance in other's lives, the best we can. And then sometimes, time passes, and at times, though not always, we experience being on the receiving end.
Sometimes, as the years pass, it seems like so much of a musical chairs. Shifting about. the comings and goings. The letting go and then the embracing, of what new things arrive at our doorstep.
Such a sweet tough funny thing life sometimes can be.
11.7.16 Along the streaming river
I got up and out early, urged out of bed by the softly approaching light. Brought the dog out, threw on yesterday's clothes in the dawn, grabbed turrledneck and hat, and was off to the river.
There was a light blanket of frost, laid out upon the ground, glistening everywhere. Chrysanthemums all through the neighborhood slept with their small pillowcase blankets on, still tucked in.
Horses closed in for the night, against the coming cold.
The river was placid, the sky clear, with pink along the horizon, the trees and land cloaked in dark.
Til, a ways down the path, the sun crested the range, and light spilled down upon us all.
As I watched my breath, watched the streaming river, walk-running along , alone, as the day began.
There was a light blanket of frost, laid out upon the ground, glistening everywhere. Chrysanthemums all through the neighborhood slept with their small pillowcase blankets on, still tucked in.
Horses closed in for the night, against the coming cold.
The river was placid, the sky clear, with pink along the horizon, the trees and land cloaked in dark.
Til, a ways down the path, the sun crested the range, and light spilled down upon us all.
As I watched my breath, watched the streaming river, walk-running along , alone, as the day began.
11.5.16 From the Connecticut
The Mount Holyoke Range from The Connecticut River this morning
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1123116501058466/
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1123116501058466/
11.5.16 We wandered into the golden forest
early in the morning, the pale sky blue and the carpet beneath our feet thick and beautiful.
All day long the sky amazed, so you'd look up here, or notice there, as the colors and lights shifted and shimmered, the reflection of clouds upon the river a replica of the heavens.
One of our kids came by to say hi and drop off their dog, and a dear friend stopped by to mop floors to a clean sheen, and winterize windows.
As we settled into afternoon, into astounding sunset, into deep blue night.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208126635307136/
All day long the sky amazed, so you'd look up here, or notice there, as the colors and lights shifted and shimmered, the reflection of clouds upon the river a replica of the heavens.
One of our kids came by to say hi and drop off their dog, and a dear friend stopped by to mop floors to a clean sheen, and winterize windows.
As we settled into afternoon, into astounding sunset, into deep blue night.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208126635307136/
11.5.16 Down by The Food Bank Farm
There is that way, in which those places, near where you live and breathe and sleep and do your work, change as inimitably as you do, with the passing of days, with seasons, with events and your own realizations. So that each time you encounter the flurry of wild plants on the corner of your block, or the small weed pushing up by the corner store, or the curving dirt road pulling your eye back back to the long line of the small mountain range, all present to you their different aspects in each moment. Different. In my new quiet life, there is suddenly time and space in thought and action to take note of these things. Because, listen, no matter what great difficulties land in your life and take root, still there is within it all the great Grace, shouldering through, and filling you with it's fine small faith.
11.5.16 Election nutsoness
is as optional as holiday craziness.
No one is making you watch/ listen/read.
You get to choose whether it's important, what you're choosing, or constructive for you in some way, whether it's ok for those who have to deal with you, or will make any difference.
There's a lot of unfortunate crap in life, in countries, in compromising, in elections, in life.
And then there's a lot of amazing beautiful stuff. That's just the way it is.
Just like how we choose to handle holidays ( with optional guilt, desperation, exhaustion, etc.) or not, so it's up to us to consciously decide what to think about, what to talk about, what to listen to or read or watch, with the endgame of a Presidential election.
Get in touch. Know that the outcome is what it is, replete with all the ways it might play out.
Know you can choose to engage in political work or activism to create greater good in a way you can manage, afterwards, if you choose.
Know you are not a victim, but rather a human making your absolute own choices right now.
No one is making you watch/ listen/read.
You get to choose whether it's important, what you're choosing, or constructive for you in some way, whether it's ok for those who have to deal with you, or will make any difference.
There's a lot of unfortunate crap in life, in countries, in compromising, in elections, in life.
And then there's a lot of amazing beautiful stuff. That's just the way it is.
Just like how we choose to handle holidays ( with optional guilt, desperation, exhaustion, etc.) or not, so it's up to us to consciously decide what to think about, what to talk about, what to listen to or read or watch, with the endgame of a Presidential election.
Get in touch. Know that the outcome is what it is, replete with all the ways it might play out.
Know you can choose to engage in political work or activism to create greater good in a way you can manage, afterwards, if you choose.
Know you are not a victim, but rather a human making your absolute own choices right now.
11.5.16 Sublime
Down by the river early this morning
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1122673214436128/
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1122673214436128/
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