Tag Archives: Creativity

does love ever sleep?

12 Feb

“When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning.”
― John O’DonohueAnam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

Love sleeps and love awakens, or love is there all the time while we sleep and awaken.  All love is the same love but sometimes love is in the form of a cat, a person, a place; love makes us grow beyond the perimeters of our skin cells into the extension of all seen and unseen, dense or light,  out beyond all ideas of this and that, as strong at its farthest edges as it is in the core.  Does it have any edges?

I am no expert on Astrology – but I like the larger scale clockiness of it.  I like the zooming out to measure time and seasons from the far out dials of the planets.  To the modern scientific mind, the whole thing is lunacy – superstition, poppycock.  But there is something in the rhythm and patterns that has always resonated at a deeper level within this girl, even when she belonged to the religion of her childhood that called this ancient pattern recognition a pseudo-science, and an evil one at that, yet I could not stop the patterns from clicking in my deeper awareness.  I could see the overlay of overt and subtle traits within everyone I knew, everyone I met.  The suns and moons of people I knew formed a pattern that I could recognize before I even studied a thing.  And there is a recurrent synch for me – probably because I put attention there, of overlapping birthdays in my life.    I could bore you with the details, but I won’t.  Just a few days ago, I discovered another of these overlaps – all they do is point for me – tell me to pay attention.

My interest in this area was my hidden vice for years as I saw it, but when Richard Tarnas was on the very “respectable” (wink wink) NPR show, Diane Rehm, I perked up.  The author of the most widely used Intro to Western Philosophy book used in colleges was on NPR talking about Astrology.  I bought his book, Cosmos and Psyche and came out of the closet.  The regular world did not catch on to this turning of the tides, so I felt a bit chagrined with my outing at times.

I inhabit another world entirely now, a world parallel yet invisible to mainstream concerns.   I am not one to share my interest or knowledge randomly in the world.  It is enough that something speaks to me.

This winding road is all just to mention – Venus went direct last week or gosh, more than that now.  From the later part of December to the end of January was a wonderful month plus for examining love, luxury, pleasure, as Venus appeared to go backwards in the sky.  A time for laying low and exploring what gives pleasure.

For a good while now, I’ve been asking, “What brings me joy down to my toes and up to my crown?”   Do I know the answer to this question?   I am in recovery from a swirling, vacant selflessness disorder.     In answering this question, I found myself creating a symbolic alter to recognize these discoveries and to relish and welcome what I would like to encounter more of in my life.  What fun I have had!

venus magic

This post will out me.  I guess I’m okay with that.

I’m having a sort of fun that takes me back to preschool – I pull up a chair to the play dough station; I get my hands dirty; I lose hours in creating without a thought of the end result.  Not art, but play.

I use my hands and scissors and rubber cement glue and and old box from the earth fare store to dream up my life anew.

Here is my alter to Venus, full of symbolic notations to my self along the way to honor the things that please me to no end.  There are rocks and feathers, symbols and mysteries, love notes and chopsticks, a peace sign and a world globe, rice and a battery, a surging heart and a sunrise, poetry and seeds, mandalas and  textured bark, a glimmering eye for humor, poetry, a screwdriver and a hammer, notes to remind me of who I am, and some silver coins.

The pretend worlds we created on the playground as children are closer to the true flow and power source of humans than the mature, mundane, mechanical march deemed adult and respectable.   If we dream it, it can come 🙂  I’m not dreaming of dead baseball players, though.  I am dreaming my own colorful version of life, moment by moment, while my now is perfect just the way it is.  I’m just left of the swings, watching the vortex above the spinning merry-go-round,  if you want to join me.

sketching out life in pencil

18 Aug

drawing ourselves

My life is an experiment.

In the past two years, i walked away from the life i had known – and began sketching the life out anew.  Making such a previously unthinkable step accelerated my journey home.

My life has been a study on the flow of money, as it is for us all, right?  I’ve lived comfortably by the world’s standards.   But now the things that were a given for most of my life are no longer available.   This is closer to how the rest of the world lives day to day, but no where near the precarious existence the majority of humans content with.   But learning in this immediate world, I see Uncertainty is my teacher, and i have found that she is always up for a cup of tea once I got to know her.

Here is the scenario in this present day unfolding:  I walked in to get my classes for the fall to find that the new health care bill has changed my arrangements quite a bit.  The college has had to cut back adjunct’s classes and pay…

In short, the money issue will need to be figured out.

The experiment:  how to flow into whatever this pay cut means without attachment while creating a life that is sustainable, thriving, and beautiful.  What can I create in this situation?

An earlier manifestation of self would have jumped into panic and reached for anything in desperation…an unsuitable job,  a hasty move, I’m not sure;  I’m not that person anymore – haven’t been for a while.  I do sometimes wake in the night and realize in my rhinoceros mind is charging into heart thumping destruction scenarios.  That animal can charge on through – that is allowed – but mostly – there is an awareness of a net below the tightrope – i trust and step – and even if i misstep – i know i will land in the same substance that surrounds and flows within – or maybe better still I am actually a bird standing on the wire…I have wings:

birdon a wire

This is what I am getting at:  the magic of the human it seems to me is to not be a victim of our circumstances but to be a creator.  If I can imagine in metaphor all that i am and all that everything is, I draw the truth.   I am the rhinoceros – powerfully charging through – I am the high wire walker – I am the bird –  I am a growing tree that breaks through the atmosphere of heaven – my root ball, the earth – I am the artist – and my life is my masterpiece – not in a worldly viewed way – but in true eyes – a masterpiece of living this life out as presently and instructively as this sketched-out girl can do!

So in the dance of money – which some have spoken of as a spell which has been cast over the human race – how can I dance with these new circumstances?

What can I envision my life to be?  What now has room to arrive by this new opening?

I am calm, centered,  experimenting with doing the next thing as always with great trust.  I am a big earthen pot draining out self –  still and waiting to be filled with a knowing of what I need to know when I need to know it 🙂

“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart.
…live in the question.”
― Rainer Maria RilkeLetters to a Young Poet

“Maturity, one discovers, has everything to do with the acceptance of ‘not knowing.”
― Mark Z. DanielewskiHouse of Leaves

who is the teacher and who is the student?

2 May

Poetry Anthologies at the end of my Writing About Literature class blow me away every semester.

This is not a post about me as a teacher.  I am humbled by a job that feels like it never reaches my ideals, but  I am learning most moments by showing up.  I do do that.  I show up.  And many show up with me.  And then we see what happens.

When we get to the last unit of the class –  I get to share the stuff I love.   The assignment (borrowed from my colleague who is so generous as to share his good ideas) to create their own poetry anthologies  allows the students to embrace what speaks to them – and express sides of themselves often tucked away.  Not a one disappoints!  No project has ever come in that did not tickle my soul  in some way.  I’ll shut up and just post an assortment from this semester.

poetry1

My photography does not do them justice.  From hand-sewn, to hand -painted, to painstakingly handwritten in fountain pen – even the most asleep students seem to come to life when asked to express themselves.

poetry2

dreams out of the paper bag

silence anthology

The Silence anthology was printed on to cloth; the poems were arranged from the most words to the least – so that the pages made no sound when being turned and the words tapered off into… silence.

Sometimes the students are apologetic when they present their works in front of the class for they cannot see their own unique beauty. They do not know how wonderful their creations are.

If you find yourself stuck in a rut without any creative juices – I’ve found a source for you – don’t know their prices, though… 🙂

 

 

The Canvas is Everything; The Paint is Whatever You Can Find

26 Dec

We are visiting my parents in Georgia.  Yesterday while Chloe read The Great Gatsby for school, Eden and I found the concrete basement wall in the ping pong room to be our Canvas.

fullwall christmasday

The room was full of music from Eden’s Pandora station, snacks were brought by supportive grands, and we felt the freedom of no mistakes, no problems; being humans with paintbrushes is a blessed thing.

edenandflowers

basementflowers1Lots more to go, of course.

“Spiritual love is a position of standing with one hand extended into the universe and one hand extended into the world, letting ourselves be a conduit for passing energy.”  Christina Baldwin

At 46, I’m the assistant to the great energy running through this girl.  This morning she is on to writing a play and wants help with that…I’m happy to observe, support, allow whatever energies are coming through.

I am learning much about the spiritual connection of humans and making things from my daughters, but also from this path walking friend.  From the way M presents her food, to her beautiful creations, to the words and art she puts together, to the possessions she chooses to keep, to her human interactions… divinity is expressed through this vessel!  This insight then helps me see the divine in all of those around me, in their unique expressions and creations with the matter and form given to us like play dough in this kindergarten world of ours.

The arena of creativity was one of the first places I experienced the no time of the present moment.  And learned that the end result is not the point at all, the process is the dance:)

Also, a broad and messy thank you to whomever stumbles here and to those on whose blogs I’ve stumbled…Grateful for the dance we are all sharing here in this corner together.  Namaste.

%d bloggers like this: