Seems we're all taking up with our chosen ways of dealing with surprise, disappointment, great concern. Some vilify, some blame and go on, some look ahead and some garner perspective from the past.
Seems like it's a normal human deal to do a little of each, as we move along together and alone.
As we slowly approach Harvest time and continue to take back Thanksgiving from the lies and fables, back into the light of our modern day option of eyes wide open honesty, profound regret for what the ancestors of many of us have done and what many of our brethren are doing to our Native forebears, and their present day ancestors.
And rise up in endless support for the Water Protectors , for all those who hold the line on equity and equal rights for all, at this precious time, and going forever forward.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208241960190186/
Saturday, November 26, 2016
11.26.16 There's a whole lot of ways
we grow that some struggle and fight with, missing the old status quo;
while others welcome every aspect of it, as we try to do with their own growth and changes.
while others welcome every aspect of it, as we try to do with their own growth and changes.
Regardless of reception, there is something developmental happening every day of our lives. That does not halt at age 25 or so, but continues on. That is essential.and worthwhile.
There are circumstances and choices and events that surprise us and create significant changes we do not anticipate, and it is best we learn in our own ways how to adapt to these times, as they ebb and flow. As we lurch through what seems like loss. And see if we can remain open and escape bitter characterizations of others and situations and ourselves. So that we can greet each day anew, regardless of what we might rather be happening. All of this is extraordinarily worthwhile.
And disliking these changes and growth seems so much like disapproving of an Oak 's new limb, or a Kestrel 's new skill.
I mean, really.
11.26.16 Down upon all things
I walked along the road, the rain lightly falling down upon all things.
The fall colors for the most part have gone- all the bright berries and turning leaves.
The frosty mornings, one following the other, slowly turning most things over into sleep, or at least into the cold lean times.
So I stood there on the cusp between Fall and Winter, watching the mild winds blow through the naked underbrush. Watching the horses race about in their enclosure.
Watching myself watch the day and coming night ,and my life and yours, all in time.
The fall colors for the most part have gone- all the bright berries and turning leaves.
The frosty mornings, one following the other, slowly turning most things over into sleep, or at least into the cold lean times.
So I stood there on the cusp between Fall and Winter, watching the mild winds blow through the naked underbrush. Watching the horses race about in their enclosure.
Watching myself watch the day and coming night ,and my life and yours, all in time.
11.26.16 I'm not certain
I 'believe' that we are given our days. Or given our lives. And then have them taken away. It's simply that it feels so much like that to me.
When I wake up in the morning, and here, once again, I am handed a day. To have. For my very own. It seems more than biological happenstance. Yet, not some bearded white guy in a white robe pulling the strings for the parking space or the reprieve from illness or accident.
Whether there are things that are easy or difficult or heartbreaking or poignantly beautiful or normal.
It somehow is to me that, upon waking, upon getting on with my day, another gift has been given.
When I wake up in the morning, and here, once again, I am handed a day. To have. For my very own. It seems more than biological happenstance. Yet, not some bearded white guy in a white robe pulling the strings for the parking space or the reprieve from illness or accident.
Whether there are things that are easy or difficult or heartbreaking or poignantly beautiful or normal.
It somehow is to me that, upon waking, upon getting on with my day, another gift has been given.
11.26.16 As we walked along
The woods were wet with a light rain falling
the copper leaves upon the ground deep and crisp
the stream flowing gently once again
ferns bright green against the muted late fall forest colors
as we walked along in the cool clean air.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1141603622543087/
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1141603692543080/
the copper leaves upon the ground deep and crisp
the stream flowing gently once again
ferns bright green against the muted late fall forest colors
as we walked along in the cool clean air.
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1141603622543087/
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1141603692543080/
11.25.16 Quick and soft and neat
It was nice to do something I used to do.
So yesterday morning I smiled, oophing over rolling the cold dough flat and wide , one after another. Then stirring the chocolate cream on the stove for what seemed like forever. Blending the pumpkin ingredients til creamy. Taking the spiced sliced apples to fill the pie crust to the heavens. Tamping down the edges, quick and soft and neat.
11.25.16 They know the words, but can't remember the tune
I wanted to help them with their emotions.
They are tangled in their sleeves .
They are tripping underfoot.
They are way back there at an age I once was. They are like me and not like me. And they jitter from one unassailable unhappiness to the next.
They are full of hard work and tenacity and foregone pleasures and building a future and there are so many unhappinesses some large and some small. And so many things are going well and some that aren't and it's in the letting go that they are faltering.So they are tripping over them all as they accumulate.
I watch them and I watch myself and I see all the terrible and difficult I have struggled with, breathing when I can, in between Mindfulness for Survival.
And I see that they knows the words of the song, I can tell, but can't remember the tune.
They are tangled in their sleeves .
They are tripping underfoot.
They are way back there at an age I once was. They are like me and not like me. And they jitter from one unassailable unhappiness to the next.
They are full of hard work and tenacity and foregone pleasures and building a future and there are so many unhappinesses some large and some small. And so many things are going well and some that aren't and it's in the letting go that they are faltering.So they are tripping over them all as they accumulate.
I watch them and I watch myself and I see all the terrible and difficult I have struggled with, breathing when I can, in between Mindfulness for Survival.
And I see that they knows the words of the song, I can tell, but can't remember the tune.
11.23.16 Crafting balance
It's quite a thing, creating balance.
Balance between being informed about the world and being overwhelmed.
Balance between being close enough to others but not too close.
Between accepting our selves the way we are today, at this moment, and supporting our awareness and growth in ways that will benefit us.
Between activating for justice in the world and reaping the peace of our own small home.
And so we ebb and flow.
We wander out too far in one direction and then oscillate in the other. Learning that any push in any direction will result in instability, in increased sense of uncertainty.
And yet, learning to remain on the path of moderation in all things for the most part fosters stability and balance in all things.
So that when difficult external circumstances happen, we are well rooted and solid, as we are impacted, as we respond.
We say 'Yes, yes this unasked for event is what is happening right now.'
We feel fear, we watch as we experience anger, worry, tension. We watch as these emotions move fluidly through us.
We say ' Here is a feeling. Here is a thought.' We remember that we are not that thought. Our life is not that feeling.
Instead, we are a conduit for life, as we slowly learn and relearn to make choices, and craft responses to circumstance, that provide as much stability as possible.
We respond as a tree to rough wind, and then when the winds pass, we settle back down once again.
Balance between being informed about the world and being overwhelmed.
Balance between being close enough to others but not too close.
Between accepting our selves the way we are today, at this moment, and supporting our awareness and growth in ways that will benefit us.
Between activating for justice in the world and reaping the peace of our own small home.
And so we ebb and flow.
We wander out too far in one direction and then oscillate in the other. Learning that any push in any direction will result in instability, in increased sense of uncertainty.
And yet, learning to remain on the path of moderation in all things for the most part fosters stability and balance in all things.
So that when difficult external circumstances happen, we are well rooted and solid, as we are impacted, as we respond.
We say 'Yes, yes this unasked for event is what is happening right now.'
We feel fear, we watch as we experience anger, worry, tension. We watch as these emotions move fluidly through us.
We say ' Here is a feeling. Here is a thought.' We remember that we are not that thought. Our life is not that feeling.
Instead, we are a conduit for life, as we slowly learn and relearn to make choices, and craft responses to circumstance, that provide as much stability as possible.
We respond as a tree to rough wind, and then when the winds pass, we settle back down once again.
11.21.16 Little tiny itty bitty things...
A coyote sleeping in a bed of leaves.
Rabbits down in their burrow.
A torpid chipmunk with sweet dreams. T
he roots of winter berry and trees.
As our winter days approach.
Rabbits down in their burrow.
A torpid chipmunk with sweet dreams. T
he roots of winter berry and trees.
As our winter days approach.
11.21.16 Whininess with weather
When it's starting to get cold, we love gathering together, at bus stops or stores, fear mongering. Yes, we love that. Always talking fearfully about whether that hurricane is going to get here ( it won't ) or if we're going to lose our power with this snowstorm (possibly) or how much snow we're going to get tomorrow.
We love whining and complaining and obsessing and competing and comparing.
We were like that way long before there were weather channels on TV.
Now I have no idea what people do, but I'm imagining they're on and off their little smart phones every other second, check check checking the weather.
I noticed the other day, when my husband and I were trying to figure out if we should buy a new car battery today or could wait till his next paycheck, and we both went on our phones, pushing that little button that has the sun in the cloud, to check out what the anticipated temperatures would be. Then we caught sight of each other, and laughed. What a funny age.
Gradually, a good number of people we have known, mostly older relatives and neighbors from other places, have made that leap to move to Florida. I don't know if we can ever afford to do it, and anyways, I think I'm just too enthralled here. Yeah, I get that as we get older, navigating the ice and snow, getting to the car, hoping it doesn't slip and slide or you don't fall, are all realities.
But I scarcely can imagine myself living someplace where the sun shine every day ( yuck. How uninspiring ) , where there are few surprises when it comes to weather.
I think instead I'll probably learn to adapt to my surroundings, to my increasing age and the realities.
Figure out somebody to do the snowblowing, when we can't. Maybe erect some kind of double fence, so I can hang on tight all the way to my car. Make sure to go out with some kind of cleats on every single winter day. Find that way to save up for that woodstove and have some wood on hand each fall, for when the power does go out.
One real advantage to where I live is that our house is pretty close to the source of electricity. You know how when you're further away, if a line goes down, you're out of luck, you and everybody down from you. We're usually exempt from this.
And when push comes to shove, there is a fireplace here. And a gas stove. An old fashioned grill to lug out of the snow and into he back outdoor hallway.
When we have a day like today, late November, and there is a chill cutting wind that isn't even below 30 yet. When the clouds are whipping around in the sky, and the birds are waking up to what's about to happen, somehow I feel this overpowering love. Of life. Of weather. Of history.
For those who've gone before. For those who will follow us here, after we are gone.
When weather arrives on the scene and makes no doubt about the fact that we must deal with it, I feel brought to the present moment. Front and center. No slouching around. Somehow acutely grateful, in the midst of acutely powerful weather.
11.21.16 How lightning strikes
Today a dear old friend of my husbands' showed up to bring him to an extra Boston appointment, because I can't. Which makes me so grateful, all these people.
I met him first, long ago when I was a skinny wild thing, but luckily he fell for his beloved and I came over to his place to check out the apartment , and caught sight of mine, and that was that. Bada boom.
So he shows up today and he's here despite some very real complexity with his aging parents and other things, very tired out, and I'm just thrown with gratitude.
When my husband comes home, he tells me a story. The people who drive him to Boston every other week always have wonderful stories.
Turns out, one day at their printing press (of fantastic work), there were four cars parked out front, when they heard a huge noise, the lights went out and back on, and they ran outside to see what was up .
Turns out a lightning bolt had struck somewhere and sizzled all four cars.
Three had their electrical systems fried, including a brand new Volvo wagon ( ouch). None could open or start. That was that.
But his kid's farm truck , that had been off, was now running, and would not turn off for anything. Had to go bring it to the mechanic's to get it off. Go figure.
Like the lighting strikes that make this blind person see and that one go round getting lost everywhere forever. Here we all are.
I met him first, long ago when I was a skinny wild thing, but luckily he fell for his beloved and I came over to his place to check out the apartment , and caught sight of mine, and that was that. Bada boom.
So he shows up today and he's here despite some very real complexity with his aging parents and other things, very tired out, and I'm just thrown with gratitude.
When my husband comes home, he tells me a story. The people who drive him to Boston every other week always have wonderful stories.
Turns out, one day at their printing press (of fantastic work), there were four cars parked out front, when they heard a huge noise, the lights went out and back on, and they ran outside to see what was up .
Turns out a lightning bolt had struck somewhere and sizzled all four cars.
Three had their electrical systems fried, including a brand new Volvo wagon ( ouch). None could open or start. That was that.
But his kid's farm truck , that had been off, was now running, and would not turn off for anything. Had to go bring it to the mechanic's to get it off. Go figure.
Like the lighting strikes that make this blind person see and that one go round getting lost everywhere forever. Here we all are.
11.21.16 Winter arrives.
The magical mystery puddle today, in the cold cold November winds
https://www.facebook.com/GwenMcClellanWordsandPictures/videos/1137142352989214/
11.21.16 Renewal, the way of it.
We humans experience this glitch, where we forget the aspects of life that will always necessitate renewal. Readdressing. This is true of all aspects of life.
Once we find some balance in some area of life, personal or political; (PEMS : physical, emotional, mental, spiritual) we learn to reaffirm ourselves to those actions that rebalance, again and again.
Whether it be our own daily habits , our efforts for equality and justice for all, the floors of our home or the care of our teeth.
All things ebb and flow. And all things can be brought more into balance. But they do not necessarily remain there.
Part of our daily life becomes that understanding, that remembering. That forgetting. And then that remembering, again.
So we don't feel surprised each time things slip out of balance. To maintain balance we teach ourselves to address these aspects of life daily, as a puja, as a rejuvenating nourishing habit.
Our emotional balance. Our physical balance. Our clear powerful connection with ourselves, with others, and the Divine.
Whatever efforts we make for social and economic justice and equity will have results that ebb and flow. Accomplishments will come to be,and then be eroded. The building up and the disintegrating away.
This we learn and then forget every day. This we teach ourselves to bring into us every day. This is the way of it.
Once we find some balance in some area of life, personal or political; (PEMS : physical, emotional, mental, spiritual) we learn to reaffirm ourselves to those actions that rebalance, again and again.
Whether it be our own daily habits , our efforts for equality and justice for all, the floors of our home or the care of our teeth.
All things ebb and flow. And all things can be brought more into balance. But they do not necessarily remain there.
Part of our daily life becomes that understanding, that remembering. That forgetting. And then that remembering, again.
So we don't feel surprised each time things slip out of balance. To maintain balance we teach ourselves to address these aspects of life daily, as a puja, as a rejuvenating nourishing habit.
Our emotional balance. Our physical balance. Our clear powerful connection with ourselves, with others, and the Divine.
Whatever efforts we make for social and economic justice and equity will have results that ebb and flow. Accomplishments will come to be,and then be eroded. The building up and the disintegrating away.
This we learn and then forget every day. This we teach ourselves to bring into us every day. This is the way of it.
11.19.16 Into the distance
The skies round the neighborhood, and past the farm store
a pattered grey, all the way into the distance.
a pattered grey, all the way into the distance.
11.19.16 Barreling into the night
With who-knows-who, racing from the sunset; barreling through the night.
11.19.16 Last night
Down by the marina last night, the sunset was mild mannered
the stark contrast of limbs to sky beautifully intricate.
the stark contrast of limbs to sky beautifully intricate.
11.19.16 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.
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.
11.18.16 Fall Over Friday never arrived FB video
due to unanticipated circumstance.
Still, the mild fall day swooned past copper forests
and earth pleased as lunch with two days of rain,
and a subtle golden sunset.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208227079858187/
Still, the mild fall day swooned past copper forests
and earth pleased as lunch with two days of rain,
and a subtle golden sunset.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208227079858187/
11.18.16 Sometimes, it happens.
It's so funny how we each can reside with our own tough and then sweet circumstances, past and present, but learn how to arrive in that place where we can actually flip between it seeming so tough, and then being in the wonder of the day. And then the toughest. And then the small lovely.
I watched this today, the facility of movement. Of awareness. Untethered, moving with agility. From one perspective to the other and back.
Almost as if Life was saying 'Hey! You over there in your life. Get it now? It's all about where you're standing, in proximity to what's going on.'
It reminded me of when you're a little kid, that moment when you discover the difference between what one eye sees when the other's covered, versus the other.
And you hang there,covering up one after the other, as the world before you appears to flip back and forth .
Til you realize the is just fine, thankyou. It's you maneuvering the illusion.
I watched this today, the facility of movement. Of awareness. Untethered, moving with agility. From one perspective to the other and back.
Almost as if Life was saying 'Hey! You over there in your life. Get it now? It's all about where you're standing, in proximity to what's going on.'
It reminded me of when you're a little kid, that moment when you discover the difference between what one eye sees when the other's covered, versus the other.
And you hang there,covering up one after the other, as the world before you appears to flip back and forth .
Til you realize the is just fine, thankyou. It's you maneuvering the illusion.
11.17.16 Settling down. FB video
What we're slowly reminding ourselves is to settle down. To cool out. To become informed. But to watch which media source we view.
To limit speculative stuffs and fear mongering, while using this chance to study up on situations and history and structures of import. To gain perspective. Learn and exchange ideas.
To set our own priorities. And focus on what we might do, on our own time, in our own small ways, to make a difference regarding that which is important to us.
To take things in stride. To balance external news sources and information with other activities and subject matter. To take good care of ourselves right now.
To not cast too large a speculative net, because we will only be reduced to distress. To limit engagement with those who are choosing to overindulge in news and then spin out.
To ground our selves in our lives, in good nourishing foods and clean water and solid sleep.
To look into the eyes of others and not live our lives staring at some screen.
To say YES to difficulty and sad things and things that gravely concern us. To say Yes, that is happening . Yes I am so uncomfortable with this in the world. Yes I am spitting mad.
We can settle ourselves. And make sure we limit exposure to thoughts and worries later in the day.
We can remain somewhat informed and leave thoughts about world events by dinner time; and be quiet and peaceful and engaged in things that give pleasure and that matter, until we fall into what we hope is a well earned deep sleep.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208219646672362/
To limit speculative stuffs and fear mongering, while using this chance to study up on situations and history and structures of import. To gain perspective. Learn and exchange ideas.
To set our own priorities. And focus on what we might do, on our own time, in our own small ways, to make a difference regarding that which is important to us.
To take things in stride. To balance external news sources and information with other activities and subject matter. To take good care of ourselves right now.
To not cast too large a speculative net, because we will only be reduced to distress. To limit engagement with those who are choosing to overindulge in news and then spin out.
To ground our selves in our lives, in good nourishing foods and clean water and solid sleep.
To look into the eyes of others and not live our lives staring at some screen.
To say YES to difficulty and sad things and things that gravely concern us. To say Yes, that is happening . Yes I am so uncomfortable with this in the world. Yes I am spitting mad.
We can settle ourselves. And make sure we limit exposure to thoughts and worries later in the day.
We can remain somewhat informed and leave thoughts about world events by dinner time; and be quiet and peaceful and engaged in things that give pleasure and that matter, until we fall into what we hope is a well earned deep sleep.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208219646672362/
11.17.16 Be with all of this
High up on a curving hill, where the small road curls between this and that, where all sorts of wooded homes are tucked away, this morning I see up on the road before me a large oil truck, waiting to cross in front of me, with a long long line of cars twirling back as far as the eye can see.
So I stop, blink my lights, as the cars behind me start to pile up. As I know that possibly one or more is simply going to start pushing their little horn, in some child like frustration, of wanting to "do something" when something distresses them.
The driver looks relieved, pulls forward a bit, and begins the process of backing the mammoth vehicle up a small driveway, which takes two tries, but everybody sits tight, high up on this hill, in this beautiful place, on this beautiful autumn day.
And while we all sit, and patiently wait, no matter what our days hold for us, he makes it on the second try, cut tight and passes the trash cans an inch away. I at least I look on with respect.
As he waves to me and smiles, backs up the driveway and out of sight.
And now, the two long long lines of cars, snake along up in a small rural place, slowly going on their way, patiently, evenly, this time.
And I go along, simply feeling grateful.
For the mild temperature. For the large beast by my side. For all that is not, and all that is. For the ability, finally, to simply be with all of this.
So I stop, blink my lights, as the cars behind me start to pile up. As I know that possibly one or more is simply going to start pushing their little horn, in some child like frustration, of wanting to "do something" when something distresses them.
The driver looks relieved, pulls forward a bit, and begins the process of backing the mammoth vehicle up a small driveway, which takes two tries, but everybody sits tight, high up on this hill, in this beautiful place, on this beautiful autumn day.
And while we all sit, and patiently wait, no matter what our days hold for us, he makes it on the second try, cut tight and passes the trash cans an inch away. I at least I look on with respect.
As he waves to me and smiles, backs up the driveway and out of sight.
And now, the two long long lines of cars, snake along up in a small rural place, slowly going on their way, patiently, evenly, this time.
And I go along, simply feeling grateful.
For the mild temperature. For the large beast by my side. For all that is not, and all that is. For the ability, finally, to simply be with all of this.
11.16.16 Such fall beauty
the rich blue sky and the leaves in color transformation,
upon branches and then glistening, down upon the ground.
upon branches and then glistening, down upon the ground.
11.16.16 The rail trail
Our beautiful Rail Trail, for biking and walking and running and skating and joy.
Sunday, November 20, 2016
11.16.16 Happily
It was warm and the ground happily wetted this morning ,
down by the farmers fields.
down by the farmers fields.
11.16.16 Small mammals rule
Some small mammal in the dark of night came
to the middle of the small dirt road to leave their poop,
as their act of ultimate domination.
11.16.16 Persephone
Today the worms are out upon the mineral rich dirt road,
and the beautiful tiny shining black slugs,
not seen since early spring.
For these are opportunities for ingesting nourishment,
before having to recede beneath the land,
Persephone in the cold of winter.
11.16.16 Windows of the sky
Late fall, the two-day rain digging out potholes
that reflect like small windows of the sky above.
that reflect like small windows of the sky above.
11.16.16 Tough and tougher
Sometimes the tougher thing that's happening, right on top of the already tough thing that's happening in our lives, recedes.
It settles. And then sometimes, the often bad habits we reengaged in begin to settle too.
No longer so driven by distress or worry or anger, we recognize our opportunity that has been handed us. To settle back on down.
To leave off eating or drinking or obsessing , starving ourselves from the goodness of healthy habits and awake aware looking around us in real time, engaging with others or the sunset or silence.
We leave off castigating ourselves, off all the shaming and blaming that glues us to unhappiness and bad choices.
Instead, we remember to be patient and kind.
And to simply focus on doing once again that which works.
Settling until we begin to feel the grace of the day.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208211281183230/
It settles. And then sometimes, the often bad habits we reengaged in begin to settle too.
No longer so driven by distress or worry or anger, we recognize our opportunity that has been handed us. To settle back on down.
To leave off eating or drinking or obsessing , starving ourselves from the goodness of healthy habits and awake aware looking around us in real time, engaging with others or the sunset or silence.
We leave off castigating ourselves, off all the shaming and blaming that glues us to unhappiness and bad choices.
Instead, we remember to be patient and kind.
And to simply focus on doing once again that which works.
Settling until we begin to feel the grace of the day.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208211281183230/
11.14.16 Over and over again
Over the suspended highway , over the rain pelted river
in the darkness of a cloud covered afternoon
slipped past the bright green bridge, rushing itself along.
in the darkness of a cloud covered afternoon
slipped past the bright green bridge, rushing itself along.
11.15.16 Clamoring
Some things pass away, and some remain
as we navigate our day; our lives.
Here, the rain finally came once again,
bathing and filling all things,
darkening the skies,
and clamoring the subtle fine colors of the dusk.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208204605016330/
Down by the farmers fields, we had
three protesting crows
two galloping horses
one fervent Goshawk
and a peaceful easy feeling as we walked.
as we navigate our day; our lives.
Here, the rain finally came once again,
bathing and filling all things,
darkening the skies,
and clamoring the subtle fine colors of the dusk.
https://www.facebook.com/gwen.mcclellan/videos/10208204605016330/
Down by the farmers fields, we had
three protesting crows
two galloping horses
one fervent Goshawk
and a peaceful easy feeling as we walked.
11.14.16 It's so soothing
A tiny thankyou note.
It's so soothing to draw little pictures, to cut them out.
To paint tiny places. To watch tiny scenes slowly meditatively come to life.
It's so soothing to draw little pictures, to cut them out.
To paint tiny places. To watch tiny scenes slowly meditatively come to life.
11.14.16 We might just
Some days just suck. And
maybe all around, the day and most of the people, and maybe even the bears
curling up for their deep winter's rest, or the coyotes living on instinctual
wisdom as they chow down, building fat reserves and thickening their coats, are
managing the easy and the tough pretty much ok.
But some days, we're simply not. It just builds up and backs up and there's that final freaking straw that gets pulled, or snapped or thwarted, and suddenly we crash. And maybe even burn.
It seems like, if we're supported enough, by the warm morning sunlight or a new library book or a kind smile at the store or our culture or peers or economy or those around us, or a beautiful sunset or sweet hot tea or a warm bed, that as we age, we learn that cool thing. To just step aside.
To step aside and take the time out any way we can, and not decide big things or wreck little things or say stuff. And just give ourselves room . To play it out. To wait.
And though it feels certainly hopeless or miserable or unyielding or like nothing good can come, still we can take a step back.
Sometimes it just gives us time to deal. To not compound what is already tough stuff, no matter who or where we are.
But we can firmly refuse to add insult to injury, by criticizing or shaming ourselves, and feeling badly about who we are. That is useless and an indulgence that never benefits and maybe it was done to us, but we can refuse to do it any more.
And sometimes, if we keep our heads up and our eyes open, small bits of grace seep in.
There might not be any big on high announcement, or flashing with heavenly hosts. All the all the problems and pressures may not dissolve into absolute perfection. Because life is simply not like that.
It isn't any Disney movie, and we might as well get used to that right now. Yearning pining for that doesn't help anything.
What we might find is that small moments of grace DO arrive. And sweep past and light up the day or the middle of the night. And our load is lightened. We don't have to decide why or how or what.
We just might smile, even though things suck in innumerable can-I-even-do-this ness.
We just might let go and sink into this very space of this very time, nourish our selves best we can, let go, and tomorrow, start again .
But some days, we're simply not. It just builds up and backs up and there's that final freaking straw that gets pulled, or snapped or thwarted, and suddenly we crash. And maybe even burn.
It seems like, if we're supported enough, by the warm morning sunlight or a new library book or a kind smile at the store or our culture or peers or economy or those around us, or a beautiful sunset or sweet hot tea or a warm bed, that as we age, we learn that cool thing. To just step aside.
To step aside and take the time out any way we can, and not decide big things or wreck little things or say stuff. And just give ourselves room . To play it out. To wait.
And though it feels certainly hopeless or miserable or unyielding or like nothing good can come, still we can take a step back.
Sometimes it just gives us time to deal. To not compound what is already tough stuff, no matter who or where we are.
But we can firmly refuse to add insult to injury, by criticizing or shaming ourselves, and feeling badly about who we are. That is useless and an indulgence that never benefits and maybe it was done to us, but we can refuse to do it any more.
And sometimes, if we keep our heads up and our eyes open, small bits of grace seep in.
There might not be any big on high announcement, or flashing with heavenly hosts. All the all the problems and pressures may not dissolve into absolute perfection. Because life is simply not like that.
It isn't any Disney movie, and we might as well get used to that right now. Yearning pining for that doesn't help anything.
What we might find is that small moments of grace DO arrive. And sweep past and light up the day or the middle of the night. And our load is lightened. We don't have to decide why or how or what.
We just might smile, even though things suck in innumerable can-I-even-do-this ness.
We just might let go and sink into this very space of this very time, nourish our selves best we can, let go, and tomorrow, start again .
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