Pin It!

On the first breath - it came as a relief.

This quiet...after all of the noise. This stillness....after all of the churning emotion. This the never-ending push to move myself through it. Onwards...and to the other side.

Although familiar...this pose felt new. Never before had I experienced it from this particular point-of-view. I needed not answer the questions as to where it was that I was going. I could be only here. In this now. In this pose. In this day.

On the second breath - it was feeling uncomfortable. I was wanting to return to my old habits and routines. I was wishing for all that I do to distract and detract. I started looking for that exit sign and way to anywhere other than here. In this now. In this pose. In this day. 

I was reminded of the teachings. To stay the course. To breathe - long and deep and slow. To find that comfort in this discomfort. The magic - I'd been taught -  happens within the pose. The practice only just begins in that moment you find yourself so desperately wanting to come out.

Thirty days - I'd promised myself. A respite. A gift. A time of inner connection. Carved out space - in which I might look back without needing to look forwards. To feel. To reflect. To absorb.

It's so easy to rely on the momentum to keep on moving. It's the letting go and standing still that's so impossibly hard.

I've been stalking the herons. I've been silently observing - learning from one of nature's most elegant and patient teachers. I've watched as they they concentrate and they ground down before they strike. I've found myself lost in their in perfect stillness...and found again in the grace and energy and beauty of their flight.

There have been moments of sadness and confusion....and there have been more moments of clarity and light. I find myself with a renewed sense of purpose and direction....a clearer vision....a stronger intention. I've re-designed my online space for my art. I've re-discovered my passion. I've re-connected with my heart.

On this third breath - I'm returning and beginning again. This summer's practice has practically un-done me. Two children married...and one mother gone. The landscape has changed. Everything is new. Everything is different.

And - I'm still here. And - I still am.

Walking. Looking and seeing. Feeling it all....and recording it thru and with my camera's lens.

This now. This pose. This day. What an extraordinary gift. To return. And - always - to have the opportunity to begin again. 

On that first breath.


September Calendar 2014

Pin It!

September Fine Art Calendar

Hard to believe it's September already.
As sad as I am to see summer end...I'm looking forward to this new season. Excited to begin designing next year's calendars!!!
The months do fly....don't they!?!?!.


Breathe Slow

Pin It!

If I breathe slow....will time slow too?

It was mid-April when I wrote those words. They are now echoing back at me...reverberating thru the mountains. I was in a time and space that was about a first wedding. It was about letting go of my youngest child as she was about to step into the big shoes of responsible adulthood. It was about anticipating the letting go of my eldest - who was about to take those same wedding vows at summer's end.

The summer I had imagined was one that would be sandwiched in between joy. I never imagined that this middle would be filled with sorrow. No one did.

And - here I am at the beginning of August. 

I've been breathing slow. I've been breathing faster than I ever thought I could. Time hasn't slowed. It slows for no thing and no one. Time only marches forward.

One finger at a time - I've found myself letting go of everything that I once held so tight and so dear. That I once believed would remain. Always. Just as it is. In the fantasy of forever.

Everything changes. If there's one thing in life we can always count on - it's that. Change is good. Change is hard. Change is a necessary part and piece of growing. 

I'm looking for a break. A break in the clouds. A moment of clear and clairvoyant sunshine. A moment of quiet. A quiet moment of peace.

I'm hearing my own words with new eyes. I'm reminding myself of what I wrote - in my innocence -  back before I knew what this summer was really going to be. 

The yogis believe that we have only a finite and limited number of breaths in a lifetime. If we breathe slow...we do slow time. Time does slow.

I'm breathing slow. I'm doing my best to slow that time....even if that time is time imagined. I'm savoring all that remains of this too-short and much-too-long season of this summer.

I'm choosing to take my sweet time. I'm choosing to sit and simply observe the swirling energy as it ebbs and flows and surrounds me. I'm taking all the space I might want or need.

Moving forward is easy. Standing still is hard. 

I may choose to show up here. I may choose not. I may get lost. I may get found. I'm slowing time.

And - I know - I'll return and begin again as I always have and always do.

In September.

Until then...