Out with the old!
Chill in the air
Tells me that I am
Older and
Better at being myself.
Endless quest for self equals
Rebirth.
Other
Cares
Take the place
Of imagination.
Breathing
Endlessly in and out.
Repeat til death.
Otherwise
Content,
Talk of the future
Out of the desert
Brings hope.
Excitement
Returns.
photos found on http://www.hickerphoto.com All pictures were taken in CANADA!
Now YOU send in an acronym!!!
Sunday Scribblings writing prompt: ...SKIN...
Upside down on the sidewalk, legs flailing, the hard shell weighing down heavily so that the jet black beetle cannot roll over.
Hidden within the safeness of a hardened old green shell, the soft body of the turtle cowers. Predator is close, turtle is safe while he hides within himself.
The gossamer wings of the dragonfly glow golden in the morning sun. Delicate, fragile and beautiful.
Behind a veil her skin is radiant. She blushes, but no one sees.
Millions of dollars a year are spent on skin care & cosmetics world wide. The focus is on beautiful skin, pure skin, perfect skin. Yet not many focus on what really matters: the heart which reflects our inner attitude. “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye” wrote the wise Antoine de St-Exupery.
Too many people hide behind a smile, or a frown. Too many hide their authentic selves, wrapped up in their hard outer shell, which is hell without the s.
I look out at the children, a rainbow of faces sitting in a circle on the morning welcome mat. As we say good morning in all the languages represented within this classroom, I smile. We are world travelers without ever leaving this one room.
Time. It runs our lives. Runs our thoughts. Schedules revolve around it. Business, school, lives revolve around time. Time for yourself. There's no time! A time for everything under the sun.
I love looking up words in a thesaurus. "time" = spell, era, point in time, occasion, instance, moment, period, phase, stage, measure, count, schedule, clock.
The best experiment I ever did was to get rid of my wrist watch. I began to live according to my natural "time." I ate when I was hungry, not when the clock said "eat." Yes I was late for a few things, but then I was early for others. I became uninhibited by a frame of time.
I challenge you to question your concept of time. How can you live more authentically with the time you have? How can you make your seconds count? We all only have 24 hours in a day ... how can you use those to live out loud?
photo taken in London, Sept.2005
I don't don't know if it's something in the air, or the food, or the lack of food for some (Ramadan), but there is beaucoup tension in the office today & 2 guys almost came to blows in each other's faces and the list goes on if you include silent treatment. Get me outta here.
artwork found on www.art.com
There is a cicada singing nearby, making my heart beat faster and my fingers sweep over the keyboard in unconscious rhythm.
Yesterday with each scrape of the shovel, my head felt like the ground that was receiving the blows. The gravel being moved felt like each stone was landing on my head.
Today I sit at my desk with my baseball cap pushed low on my forehead and sunglasses shielding my eyes from the lights above and glare off my computer.
My head throbs. My work beckons. I succumb. To both.
"You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold,
Richer than I you can never be -
I had a Mother who read to me."
~ Strickland Gillian
This is a public thank you to my mom for encouraging my imagination as a child.
You will find what you are looking for in life.
As I walked my few steps to the office trailer, I noticed that one of the 4 Eucalyptus trees had some red leaves. I got all excited and thought: "it's autumn here too!" However, as I looked at the other trees, I noticed that none of them had any other colour on their leaves but green. So this tree is probably dying or something. However, I sure enjoyed the morning sun gleaming through the branches of red and green leaves! It was my little blessing/miracle/gift for this morning.
It is 40C before noon. In September. Too hot. I want fall time. I miss the smell of fires in the cool evening air. I miss the changing colour of leaves on the trees and brown leaves raked into piles. Let's take that a step back: I miss trees.
We were blessed with cooler weather last week: it went down to mid 90s for one full week. However, it's slowly been creeping upward and today is supposed to hit 110F. Oh for the crisp air of fall!
Below are some photos, courtesy Jo-Anne Devost, of what "home" would look like about now:
Desiderata
Max Ehrmann, Copyright 1952
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
I've got some more exciting publication news! ... I'm now one of the authors in the Author's Series on the Creativity Portal.
Their site is: www.creativity-portal.com
To go directly to the author series: http://www.creativity-portal.com/articles/authors.html
I've got a new essay out: Emerging Beauty. "We breathe in our experience and breathe out our art."
ENJOY!
And go for your dreams! You never know where they'll take you.
Interesting fact about some of the flowers here: We have this tiny white flower that blooms during the day then closes up at night. It does not bloom again the next day, but other buds on the vine will bloom in its place. These flowers grow on a vine along the ground. Then there is a this large soft pink flower that grows on a beautiful slendor tall green stalk. Its uniqueness is due in part to its yellow star radiating out from the centre. It is amazing to me that the negative space in between the petals is where you see the star. The amazing thing is that the petals of these two flowers are in the shape of long slender hearts. Their tips have the exact shape of the two curves of the top of a heart. Their body reaches a point where each petal joins at the centre. This realization filled me with wonder. It’s as if there is a message of love in each flower. If you take the time to look.
Sept. 14, 2006
God has blessed me again with seeing the dragonflies. As I left my trailer this morning and began my 39 step walk to the office trailer, I noticed a flutter of gold in the garden where the path from my trailer meets the main path. The tips of the plants were decorated with golden dragonflies. Their gossamer wings glinted copper in the morning sun.
It was amazing! I stood there, laptop under my arm, staring… mesmerized at their simple beauty. There was a cyclical flutter of wings as dragonflies sought the tip of a leaf on which to alight. They would rest for a moment and then one would flit off the plant and start another flutter of copper wings as they each sought a new leaf, or simply raised up into the air to alight back on their previous spot.
I laughed as one damselfly unsuccessfully flit about looking for a place to land. However, she kept choosing a tip that already had a dragonfly on it and each time she tried to land, she was met with the flick of a tail, sending her soaring into the air yet again. He finally found his spot, on a plant tip high above the others.
Then I noticed the pointy cactus. Its tips too were alight with gold! Amazing! The fuchsia flowers on the ground had not yet opened, but the glint of copper off the dragonflies wings was colour enough for me this morning.
What a gift to see beautiful life first thing in the morning! What a gift to be able to take the time to watch their behavior.
*** *** ***
I googled the life cycle of dragonflies. Adult dragonflies can live up to two months. I am excited for that prospect as I have just over two months left in country. What I find amazing is that some breeds stay as nymphs as long as four years. This cannot be that breed, as there has only been an oasis here for less than 2 years. Dragonflies need water to be born, grow and become dragonflies. I like to believe that they miraculously appeared here in our tiny oasis. There is no pond of water in our oasis, just daily watering with a garden hose. I wonder if that’s enough for them to grow? And if they hatched here, did they originally come from the canal 14km away, traveling through the 14km water pipeline to be deposited via a water hose in our garden? Looking for logic, I find the miraculous yet again. Even if that is the true way that they appeared here, it is amazing that they could survive the journey!
Later in the day, I went for the first swim in the raw water storage ponds, about 2km from our camp. A dragonfly flew past me while I was floating in the water. That reinforces my idea that they came from the canal, for if they are at the water pond, maybe they flew over to our oasis? How far can they fly?
It’s good I’m leaving this brown, brown, brown desert. They are uprooting a large section of the garden, our little oasis in this brown desert. It is the area that contains my beloved patch of fuchsia flowers. They are destroying the beauty in order to make a new BBQ area so that the little gym can expand into the current BBQ area. A fire pit will replace part of the grass.
Two locals are out there are digging up the grass as I write. I asked them to transplant the patch of flowers to the area around my trailer. The flowers must be saved! They are the only source of bright colour in this vast expanse of brown! The grass will be reduced by about half. That means that the only other colour, green, will decrease as well.
I actually got tears in my eyes when I saw them digging up the garden. Our self-appointed gardener Ali was also sad at the loss of beauty. There is not much beauty in this area, so I am surprised that management is getting rid of it. However, to make room for progress and make the space more “user friendly,” beauty must be sacrificed. It is a sacrifice that I am only willing to make because I know I am leaving soon.
If I had to stay here for longer, I would fight the change. I am already saving part of the garden by having it transplanted. But, knowing that after I am gone, there will be no more women, I won’t fight for the flowers, knowing that most of the guys don't even notice the beauty, or lack thereof in their surroundings. They’re too focused on the security threats. I know some of them will miss it when it is gone, but unfortunately, most won’t realize it until it is too late. If management doesn't care enough for a little patch of beauty, I am not going to worry. However, I will mourn its loss, as this land is so devoid of natural beauty.
When we were there it was breeding time, chicks were being kept warm in these nests. This nest has been built by humans in order to help them increase their numbers. The beach was full of penguins and it was quite noisy with the braying!
For some reason this picture won't load on my previous post with the penguin facts.
Penguins of Antarctica
I've tailored this post to elementary school age children so that I can use it when teaching. This is not exhaustive as there is so much information available, but it's "good enough" for now :-P
There are 17 species of Penguins, of which 6 are found in Antarctica. These are the Adelies, Chinstraps, Emperors (now famous from the movie: March of the Penguins), Gentoos, Macronis and Rockhoppers.
Penguin’s bodies have three layers. Their top layer is waterproof feathers due to the natural oil produced by their body. Underneath that are down feathers (the soft kind that are in sleeping bags and pillows). Underneath that is a thick layer of fat (also called blubber) to keep them well insulated in cold waters. Look at an inch on a ruler and imagine fitting 70 feathers in there - that's how many Emperor Penguins have.
Quick penguin facts:
• Penguins love to swim and prefer to spend up to 75% of their time in the water.
• They can swim up to 25 mph.
• They can see better underwater. On land they are near-sighted.
• Penguins cannot fly.
• Penguins eat fish, krill, squid, and other small crustaceans.
• Some kinds of penguins can dive as far down as 1000 feet and stay underwater for as long as half an hour. (However, most penguins don’t dive so deep and stay underwater for less time.)
• Penguins porpoise. This means that as they are swimming, they can jump out of the water every few feet (this helps them breathe while in water and I’m sure it’s lots of fun).
• Penguins can also jump out of the water onto icebergs and rock ledges. (try that next time you go swimming!). This proves very handy when being chased by a predator.
• They can hop over rocks or slide on their bellies across ice and snow.
• Penguins talk to each other through verbal sounds as well as flipper flapping, bowing, gesturing and preening.
• On land, penguins walk very straight & tall, as if they are balancing a book on their head. This is because their legs are very low on their bodies.
Funny fact: Early explorers to Antarctica thought penguins were birds that flew!
Predators:
• In the sea: Whales and Seals.
• By air: sea birds steal the unhatched eggs form the nests. Large birds called Skuas really like penguin eggs.
• On land: no predators!
• This means that they are not afraid of humans. Penguins are curious creatures and may wander close to you if you can get close to them. Just don’t walk straight at them. They don’t like that.
I googled a bunch of sites but this was my favourite:
http://www.antarcticconnection.com/antarctic/wildlife/penguins/index.shtml
This site has sound on it so you can listen to sounds penguins make! Pretty neat stuff.
“Neglect not the gift that is within you.”
~ unknown
A woman that radiates joy – that’s Betty. She is an energetic grandmother with long grey hair bespeckled with dark brown which she usually wears up in a loose bun. She has found her passion in life: pottery. She pots most every day. She enjoys the process – perfection is not her goal, yet her work is one of the most popular being sold in the gallery. I have many pieces by her in her signature blue glaze and when I use them I think of her perception on life.
My mom is also a fan of Betty and her pottery. So it was not with surprise that I received a “Betty gift” - one of her latest clay creations. She has made a clay business card holder which holds hand written quotes of encouragement, one of which is in this article. My mom and I are both quote collectors; therefore to combine Betty’s love of potting with our love of quoting was a fitting combination. It felt right that Betty would be a quote collector, filling her mind with inspiration.
She has been an inspiration to me to pursue my dreams. I see her as a very joy filled old-in-age, yet young-in-spirit, woman; the kind I would like to be at her age. She has enthusiasm and a zest for life. Her approach to life is reflected well in her choice of quotes – encouraging and inspiring.
She has also been inspirational in living your dream in a quiet way. Betty pots for her own joy. She does what pleases her in an unselfish way. She pots because it makes her happy. She sells her pottery, not for the purpose of making money, but to fund her passion and because she cannot keep every item she makes. She is a staple in the pottery gallery. She ignores the criticism of other potters who feel things should be done a certain way or items sold for a certain price. She is helpful to new potters. She loaned me the throwing wheel from her summer cabin during the winter when I took a pottery course.
Being a big-city-girl spending her first winter in a small town, I was amazed that this woman, whom I had just met, would be willing to lend me her wheel. But that is Betty – open, giving and full of joy and a zest for life. I was immediately drawn to her, as much as I had been drawn to her blue glazed pottery prior to our meeting.
“Neglect not the gift that is within you” is a fitting quote to be written by her hand. Her life exudes the truth of that phrase. She has found her passion and it brings her not only daily joy, but fellowship and friends. She is living her authentic self and inspiring others to do the same.
Hate is a monster. It creeps in and stays in souls that do not care to accept differences, that do not forgive, that do not change. It is ruining parts of the world: the Middle East (Iraq, Lebanon, Israel), Africa (Darfur), Pakistan, Indonesia, and the list goes on. It is ruining lives.
It is a monster that is not recognized, not publicized as such. It lives in every heart, in every human being, the world over. Some are better at hiding it. Some are better at fighting it. But others give in to it. Some do not even realize that they are allowing hate to creep in. It comes in subtle ways. But it stays and once it makes a home in your heart it only grows uglier.
The only way to heal our world begins not with wars and more organizations and governments created to keep the peace, but on an individual level. It begins with one person. It begins with you. It begins with me.
We must fight this monster by constant vigilance. We must look deep within and uproot the hate that is festering in our own hearts. We must rid ourselves of malice and hatred. We must forgive. As Ghandi wisely said, we must “be the change [we] want to see in the world.”
This is what flowed out of the first paragraph which was a Writing Prompt from a writing website. Unfortunately, I didn't write down where I got the prompt from and therefore cannot give credit, where prompt credit is due. You can tell I wrote this on a day I was longing for the beauty of home instead of what surrounded me: the brown desert devoid of beauty.
It is a blistering hot summer's day. You awaken to find yourself, totally alone, in a golden, yellow, field of wheat. You are wearing very little and you feel an itch rising as the wheat scratches and irritates your bare skin. Your skin prickles with the heat and the perspiration is literally seeping from you. Your throat is parched and dry and you have to find water. You stand and look around the field. In the distance you can see one scraggly tree. Shade to think. You struggle over and collapse under the tree. You hear a voice. Someone is talking to you - perhaps one of the animal kingdom. They tell you to follow the dusty path and that you will find water. You walk, listening to the sound of this world. You begin to climb. It is an arduous pathway but you can hear the familiar sound of water trickling over rocks. As you come into the clearing and find the pure, crystal clear water you are struck by the beauty of the place.....someone is coming to greet you.
She is dressed in gossamer blue that flows like water around her as she walks. Her hair is long with a curl that billows out in the wind. It is like a dream complete with fog around the edges. You look away from her mesmerizing face. It is a beautiful shade of green in this clearing surrounded by amazing trees: strong trunks stretch to the sky, dark bark is wrinkled with age, a canopy of light shades of green umbrellas above your head, filtering sunlight and heat.
The grass in this clearing is the softest on which you have ever walked. You want to roll in it, face down and relax. There are stumps in one far corner of the clearing that beckon and invite your weary body to sit, chill, relax. You walk over, forgetting that this woman is floating toward you. You hear laughter like bells without a chime. She follows you and gives you a silver chalice that you look into before drinking. You see your reflection and notice something sparkling above your head. You reach up and feel a tiara enmeshed in your hair.
Surprised, you look at this woman with wonder in your eyes. She smiles and you hear that silvery laughter float down from the trees yet again. Without moving her lips, she speaks to you. You feel her words in your heart. She speaks of a little cottage near the lake, nestled in the shade of the grand trees that surround the forest. You hear yourself agreeing that you want to go live there.
Blue birds float down from the sky and ribbons the colour of the rainbow trail behind them - pinks, blues, yellows, oranges. Never have these colours seemed so beautiful. They fly around your head, the ribbons twisting and catching you. Suddenly you are lifting off the earth so familiar to your bare feet. Floating along on their wings, you see the tops of the trees; a canopy over the clearing hiding it from onlookers. You see something luminous in the distance. It looms turquoise blue before your eyes and you realize that it is the lake … your lake. The birds are focused on their journey and do not make a sound, save for the flap of their wings beating in time to your heart.
They land you gently on the shores of this beautiful, ethereal body of water. You see before you a quaint cottage with a thatched roof and bulging sides. There is smoke coming out of the brick chimney. Bright flowers line the deep brown path to the front door, where you gently push it open.
Inside is a rocking chair next to a blazing fire. A pot hangs over the flames and you know it is boiling water for your tea. On the table is fresh bread, steam still rising. You notice the glazed tea pot and fill it with water. The clay mug feels warm in your hands. You sit rocking, maybe for hours. You have a perfect view of the water from inside the warm cottage, nestled in the safety of the great trees.
This is happiness. This is peace. This is blissful colour and relaxation. You know you will be content here. You know you will stay forever.
What stops you from pursuing your dream? Fear of failure?
Heed the advice of Salvador Dali:"Do not be afraid of perfection; no one can attain it."
So my friend: go BOLDLY in the direction of your
dream!!!!!
Our small garden oasis has been invaded by tiny golden dragonflies. I would think it was a magical happening if I wasn’t in Iraq. Yet, because I am in Iraq, I do think it is a magical thing. The logical explanation could be that we are the only source of water in at least a 14km radius. But I like the mystical aspect better.
Dragonflies have never appeared before in the almost 3 years that soldiers and civilians have been at this location. In my 17 months so far, I have watched the garden grow from a barren patch of brown dirt to a green grass filled area with eucalyptus trees and fuchsia vine flowers. It is the only source of colour on our base and in the surrounding vicinity.
The dragonflies rest and flutter in one favorite area: along the path that crosses the grass. As I walk the path, a flutter of gold lifts off the blades of grass before my feet; I feel like a giant with stomping feet disturbing fairies. They light on a single eucalyptus leaf, looking as if they are suspended in midair yet completely at rest.
Their translucent, gossamer wings are edged in gold, their bodies yellow along the edges yet burgundy in the middle. They are amazing. Their appearance is a miracle in this desert; a ray of sunshine in a land where the sun can kill; a glitter of gold despite the bright light that blinds. They make the desert less desolate and the brown less dreary. They taste of magic and whisper hope into another mundane day.
"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. To keep our faces toward change & behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable." Helen Keller
Writing Prompt:
Do a free association with this photo.
Here's mine:
carefree, not burdened by stress, worry, free, freedom, rest, waves, beach, warmth, blue sky, cool comfortable clothes, summer, relaxation, purity, wholeness, release...
Writing Prompt:
Use your free association / stream of consciousness to start a poem or piece of prose.
How I long to be free like the woman in the photo! I can't remember where I found this photo so I can't give full credit. But whoever captured it captured not just a woman, but a feeling.
Even tho my byline reads "rants, ravings and quiet musings", I haven't written very many rants. It's not like I don't rant. Believe me, I can get going real well, especially as I'm laying in bed trying to fall asleep. It's just that I don't publicize them... all that often. I've learned the truth of the Chinese proverb: "Never write a letter while you are angry."
There's another Chinese proverb that hits the spot too: "Water and words are easy to pour but impossible to recover." So, I may be posting a few rants shortly. ...Or not.
War. People die. That's not heartless, it's fact. But I'm so tired of it.
Another friendly fire incident has killed more soldiers in Afghanistan. I don't get the term "friendly fire" as it's not exactly a friendly thing. It was only 4 years ago that 4 Canadian soldiers were killed and 8 wounded. Now it's 1 KIA and too many wounded. Another frustration is which media to believe, not that you can believe any of them, but a little truthful, non-conflicting news would be appreciated. The first report I read stated 30 WIA. The next 8 WIA. Another said 5 WIA. So what's the truth? How do you even find the truth unless you know someone on the ground! This is so ridiculous.
This has got to stop. Not only is the public not being fed proper newsworthy reports, but mistakes are costing lives. I know that shit happens, accidents happen, but with all the available technology, this should not be happening! It's not like there's no communication, GPS, satellite data, etc available!
Maybe I should just go find a little fattie to chill out on or yank my head out of the clouds, but I just want to say: "Can't we all just get along.!"
If home is where your story begins, which story are they talking about? The one in which I was born? The one in which I set out on my own? A story is full of chapters, so perhaps one can have many homes in one’s life, each unique to the chapter in the story.
If I am the story, then who is the author? If God created me, with some help from the XY combo from my parents, than am I not the author? Or, does he hand over the pen to me upon my birth, hoping that my parents will guide me in the right direction until I can make the choices for myself? Fate and destiny may be pre-determined, but the choices of which paths to take are our own. The way in which we get to our destiny is determined by us. Most of the time our life’s path meanders up and down hills and through the forest of our experiences.
Living in Iraq I have come to the conclusion, after much thought, that we can have many kinds of homes. We have the home of our childhood, which may or may not exist in the present. Some people long to return "home", but find once there it no longer feels like home. We have the home we make, by ourselves or with others. When traveling, we have the home where we lay our bags for the night. There are many types of homes we can have, temporary or permanent.
If home can be anywhere, then why do people long to go “home”? Home becomes a memory. It is the place of familiarity, of warmth and of comfort. It is peace. It is refuge and rest.
artwork by Debbie Dewitt, found on www.art.com
Posts
All Comments
