Shine the Divine: Creativity IS a Spiritual Practice

A Small Stone: Jan 29, 2012

2012-01-29T08:00:00.040-05:00

Striated lichens fold inward as they brave the frigid air, clinging to craggy bark; fragile and tenacious all at once, this is life.

This is life.

A Small Stone: Jan 28, 2012

2012-01-28T08:00:00.009-05:00

Shadows and light play peek-a-boo, lines and curves do a merry dance of their own, on a single, snowy, Sunday drive.

A Small Stone Jan 27, 2012

2012-01-27T08:00:00.015-05:00

Miniscule galaxy born of shower steam upon January windowpanes, oh yes, a celestial vision of star-bright prisms and black pocked emptiness arrayed for one whose eyes, heart and imagination are attuned to observing beauty in the most ordinary of places, temporarily transformed into realms of magnificence. Gone in the breath of an open door.

Linking to:

Friday Flash 55 with the G-Man

A Small Stone: Jan 26, 2012

2012-01-26T08:00:00.079-05:00

A morning softly lit; light waves ride on snow-mist, released by a winter yawn. Afternoon opens wide for twisted branches, as they stretch through January blue.

Thank you everyone for your wonderfully supportive comments and emails on my 500th post!

...and the photo card winners from a random drawing are:

Inger-M, Hilary, Ms. Becky, Myrna R., Leslie!

Please send me your snail mail address via email so I can forward your gift to you.

A Small Stone: Jan 25, 2012

2012-01-25T08:30:00.000-05:00

aged, dark, bent by time

submerged in an ice-bound bed

slow to rise morning

A Small Stone Jan 24, 2012

2012-01-24T08:00:00.035-05:00

i followed the light as it led toward the woods

crisp, clean crunch 'neath my boots

thorns tore at my coat

i kept on for

“this is a time of discovery”

she'd said

so i lay on my belly

ice and snow below my chin

viewed the world from down low
wide eyed child awakened within

~for Nancy, DoBeDoBeDoBeDo...following the rhythm of the song in my heart.

~Real Toads~

O O
( I I )

~ ``` ~

A Small Stone: Jan 23, 2012

2012-01-23T08:00:00.016-05:00

Organic zippers, crystallized on my window.

leave a comment here to enter my 500th post give-away

A Small Stone: Jan 22, 2012, 500 Posts and a Give Away

2012-01-22T08:00:00.004-05:00

A Small Stone: On my nightstand sits a carved figurine small enough to rest in my palm. Her head is bowed, legs crossed and stable, arms held open, hands clasped to form a heart shaped bowl, a space to place offerings.

On this, my 500th posting it is evident to me that that is what this blog is, an openhearted space where I place offerings for you. In return you fill it with healing gems of kindness and wisdom through your comments and emails.

I photograph, contemplate and connect words that arise, to the images I see. The more I write, the more clear my vision becomes and round and round the process spirals. Creativity IS a Spiritual Practice when we simultaneously move deeper inside toward Presence and step aside, out of our own way to allow that which is greater than ourselves to flow through, wedding us to all that is, to all beings, beyond time and space. It is a practice of surrender, of faith and trust to the serendipity of what will be revealed. While creative pursuits often require solitude to be birthed into being, the meaning of art is expanded, deepened, when shared with others. Offering our intimate expressions for others to experience gives art purpose, gives US purpose.

Like the tiny sculpture next to my bed, my head bows to each of you in gratitude, humbled by your compassion as you sit with me so often to read my thoughts, look at the world through my eyes with curiosity and support me on what has some days been quite an arduous journey.

I lit this candle in honor of YOU, in honor of 500 offerings, more than 500 followers and 30,000 unique guests from 135 countries around the world in just shy of 4 years of blogging, in honor of healing, growth, wisdom, compassion, lovingkindness, creativity, friendship and learning to see life’s blessings with more clarity each and every day.

As a thank you for following my blog, I will send five lucky visitors who leave a comment stating interest, one photo card each, signed and suitable for framing. The card you receive will remain a mystery until it arrives...I promise they are all lovely. The winners will be announced on Thursday, Jan 26th...you do not have to have a blog to win.
Thank you, thank you, thank you all!

Gentle steps,

Laura

A River of Stones: Jan 21, 2012

2012-01-21T08:00:00.063-05:00

On an evening drive not long before snow came to call, a diminutive red building stood alone in a field, one black eye brazenly gazing, indifferent to the blush of the sky.

A Small Stone: Jan 20,2012

2012-01-20T08:00:00.013-05:00

weatherworn hitchhiker

rode in on the dog

rests on my floor

exhausted sojourner

A Small Stone: Jan 19, 2012

2012-01-19T08:00:00.009-05:00

Clouds and trees gathered, or parted; depends on how you look at it, really. Overpass or underpass, same thing, don’t you think? Where one dwells in the moment, emotionally, physically, spiritually shifts the shadows, shape and hue of all perception.

A Small Stone: Jan 18, 2012

2012-01-18T08:00:00.018-05:00

Morning stars twinkled, scattered across the windshield whisked by winter’s wand, all teeth chattering complaints about the 1°F temperature halted as we sat in the car a moment recognizing the mysterious nature of blessing.

A Small Stone: Jan 17, 2012

2012-01-17T08:00:00.035-05:00

sitting in the midst of shadow and light

after

three chimes—silence

rests between

expansion and contraction

beneath the surface of the surf-sound

riding breath

one wave into the next

a tide of thoughts drifts in and out leaving

pebbles and shells, stands of story, translucent green glass

to reflect upon later

scattered across a grace-space of softness

------------------

continue sitting on zafu

crescent morning

moon

three chimes more—unfold

legs slowly stand on hardwood

well sanded worn smooth

winter cold shock for feet bare

awakens stark clarity and

presence

no footprints just memory

remains

hineni

here

Perhaps not such a small stone today, sometimes the words just keep coming, like the breath or waves on the shore.

A Small Stone: Jan 16, 2012

2012-01-16T08:00:00.003-05:00

A Small Stone: Consider a single drop of water clinging to the tip of a branch.

See how it illuminates the space around it ready to surrender and release from its purchase at any moment?

If each of us were willing to surrender our judgments and assumptions, move beyond simple tolerance and began to truly embrace each other, our own selves with the same tenacity and acceptance as that tiny drop of water, imagine the potential we hold for the light of lovingkindness and compassion to grow?

I’m not saying it is easy, I don’t even know that it is completely possible, but believing somewhere deep inside that it is, keeps hope alive.

If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you to go on in spite of all. And so today I still have a dream.
~ Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

A Small Stone: Jan 15, 2012

2012-01-15T08:00:00.003-05:00

Ebony twig, bent by the gravity of January jewels, invites me to make a wish.

And I do.

linking to:

A Small Stone: Jan 14, 2012

2012-01-14T11:45:00.002-05:00

A small stone: A steel-mixing bowl rings cheerfully as a handful of green peppers meet its surface; animal awareness perceives vegetable and mineral interaction as the ethereal sound of a singing bowl infusing the kitchen with good vibrations.

A pocket full of pebbles: This weekend we celebrate the remarkable devotion and sacrifice of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the many brave souls who also risked and gave their lives rallying around him. This Shabbat, we begin the book of Shemot, Exodus; an ancient journey to freedom that replays over and over again throughout time for nations, for individuals unfolding in unique ways. For me, freedom is not so heroic, but significant nonetheless for my beloveds and me.

Freedom tastes like vegetarian chili simmering on the stove. Vegetables chopped with my two hands, peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic, cilantro, beans rinsed, cumin and cocoa sprinkled, lime squeezed--slowly...oh so slowly, not only because it is the speed at which I am able to attend to my work, but because this is how I know I am alive, this is how I honor the preciousness of the gift it is as a mother, strength and endurance improving, to prepare a meal for my family. A task that I’ve not been able to do completely from start to finish while standing and all at once without resting in between for four years. Freedom tastes like gratitude. Freedom tastes like love.

Un-tethered...this is the sensation I am experiencing. Released from my computer, my primary connection to the world beyond my windows and backyard for nearly four years. Freedom, I taste freedom as I putter about the house. Each day I MOVE away from the keyboard and 11inch screen to discover, recover, remember what I lived before, what it is to be a human doing, not just a human being. It is the reverse of what many long for, so many people tired of going, going, doing, doing, tied tight to the world beyond windows, yet for me this is a deep, deep blessing. The key will be to find the balance between the two—being while doing. I’m only human after all.

I am not the way I was, will likely never completely regain what has been lost, unless someday a brilliant scientist or team learns how to regenerate damaged myelin, still, I am grateful for the strength that has been renewed at this time and continues to increase daily. Baruch HaEchad. Blessed is the One.

“All progress is precarious, and the solution of one problem brings us face to face with another problem.” ~Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

And my thoughts return to balance. I miss being online, visiting my blogging friends who have become so dear to me. I must find a creative solution to balance my time on and offline; a tiny problem as problems go, no comparison to the challenges Dr. King was referring to, but still one I must face. These friendships are real and I do not want to cause more isolation in my life, forget about the kindness and support I have experienced from so many beautiful souls around the world. I don’t want YOU to feel that I have forgotten you or that I don’t care about your wellbeing, because I haven’t and I do. Where there is love, there is always a way…I will find it or it will find me, I have complete faith that this is true.

Well this pocket full of pebbles has grown into a cairn, fitting really, marking great achievements and small, gratitude, friendship, blessings and love.

There are many hearts to find on this page, some obvious, some hidden, how many do you see?

A Small Stone: Jan 13, 2012

2012-01-13T08:00:00.046-05:00

.שַׁלָ נְעָלֶיך, מֵעַל רַגְלֶיך--כִּי הַמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה עוֹמֵד עָלָי, ואַדְמַת קֹדֶש-הוּא

Take off your shoes from your feet, the place your are standing upon is holy.

(Exodus 3:5)

I look down at my two seemingly ordinary feet, veined with time standing firmly on my favorite yoga mat, the sunshine yellow one that has traveled many miles in the past to retreats and teacher trainings, to classes and workshops where I too have had the privilege of being called teacher. This mat rolled like a scroll in the corner of my bedroom, waited ever so patiently for my body to be well enough to return to its sticky, yielding surface. Now unfurled lovingly, naked soles press down, I hear a voice resonating deep within: the place you are standing upon is holy—this is no ordinary moment, it is suffused with healing, pay attention, be present.

For one who has struggled fiercely with standing and walking over these three years since being diagnosed with MS, this place is indeed kadosh, holy. I am grateful.

linking to:

To read a beautiful kavanah by Rabbi Yael Levy as we enter the book of Shemot (Exodus), visit: A Way In

A Small Stone: Jan 12, 2012

2012-01-12T08:00:00.020-05:00

driving through the close of

an ambered-amethyst day

black-widow fingers

extend wide to play

tickle-tickle

A Small Stone: Jan 11, 2012

2012-01-11T07:00:00.026-05:00

in the dead of winter

draw near

abandoned moldering

earth treasures have not

forgotten

beckon

come closer

knees upon the frozen ground

eyes & ears

drop

down

low

look & see

frilly frocked secrets

listen & hear

green whispers

blossoming

alive

on old wood

always

forever

remember

you are loved

linking to:

A Small Stone: Jan 10, 2012

2012-01-10T08:00:00.003-05:00

Hollow hallowed sound,

Echoes through advancing gloam;

The owl has returned.

I sit up, spine long,

Aligned with the mélange of hardwoods

Soaring white pine;

Attentive as the dog,

Together we listen to the primeval forest song,

She, whining,

A bit spooked or perhaps singing along.

And me?

Silenced by awe.

Treeblogging

A Small Stone Jan 9, 2012

2012-01-09T07:00:00.002-05:00

I was certain I’d found myself, reaching up through the green wire fence. A page of time rimmed with light, soul seeping out beyond physical boundaries, a complex blueprint, or goldprint, perhaps? Fine lines, veins and shadows reveal a story etched into a freckled face; yes, this could easily be a reflection of my own well-worn map.

A Small Stone: Jan 8, 2012

2012-01-08T08:00:00.001-05:00

Frost to tears—

Who knew January sun could cause a tree to weep? Joy in the bewildering warmth, or disappointment at the surrender of all those diamonds?

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A Small Stone: Jan 7, 2012

2012-01-07T07:00:00.043-05:00

A lone birch defies the falling curtain of darkness. She gleams, a glamorous starlet, transformed into light itself; not just in the spot light, she IS the spot light. Wind swept satin ice that first caught my attention, now obscured by a fringe of thicket, (a boa at her feet), the reason we pulled over, loses its allure to her splendor.

Linking to:

Treeblogging

A Small Stone: Jan 6, 2012

2012-01-06T09:00:00.003-05:00

driving past

moving forward

a distortion of the present

leaves one with an abstract

estimate engraved as memory

linking to:

Treeblogging

A Small Stone: Jan 5, 2012

2012-01-05T07:00:00.012-05:00

How generous the sky to send me early valentines. Not one, not two, but three cotton-cloud blessings of love bestrewn across the cerulean expanse.

Joyfully linking to:

A Small Stone and A Pocket Full of Gems: Jan 4, 2012

2012-01-04T07:30:00.004-05:00

One small stone:

Waves of golden silk cascade down your shoulder, a renaissance girl, (or should I say woman?) in t-shirt and jeans, on a quest for knowledge; you light the world with your enchanting smile.

A pocket full of pebbles for my daughter:

Chai…18

Life.

Your life began 18 years ago in the midst of an ice storm, a story you’ve heard many times. We have weathered many storms together since your birth, and know that there will be more as you continue your journey. This is the way of things. This is chai, life.

Chai…18

Life.

In the fall you will go to college, faced with more independence than you’ve ever known. We will always be HERE for you to come home to, whenever you need us.

Chai…18

Life.

Happy 18^th Birthday beautiful, Belin!

May you always feel the love you were born into surrounding you, filling you, protecting you wherever you go, wherever you are.

A Small Stone: Jan 3, 2012

2012-01-03T07:00:00.005-05:00

weathered white birch pealed

unexpected color splash

magically revealed

ok, nearly wordless it was a small stone haiku after all

A Small Stone: Jan 2, 2012

2012-01-02T08:00:00.005-05:00

Each leaf decaying on it’s return to earth essence.

Each twig glistening with silver morning kisses.

Desires this of me:

Come closer.

Draw near.

Karev.

קרב

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