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REFLECTIONS
Dream of Winter
Winter is a time of coming home to oneself; a time of curling up with a good book, a warm quilt and the aroma of simmering homemade soup wafting through the house.
It is a time when poetry stirs in the soul and inspires the mind. Charles Darwin said, at the end of his life, that the loss of a taste for poetry and music is loss of happiness. Winter is a time to renew our acquaintance with Wordsworth, Frost and Browning and to get to know the modern poets of our time with their thoughts as new as the morning.
With a fire crackling in the hearth during stormy nights or on cold, crisp days, the deeper hues of our soul reveal themselves. The richly textured passions residing deep within our hearts stretch and stir and come to life. It is a time of crashing waves and large, juicy apples and the birth of extravagant and lofty dreams.
Some of those dreams will die a stillborn death. But some conceived during winter’s passionate embrace will travel with us into the early spring when the days grow quiet and clear as a mountain spring and the oak trees purring under the gentle touch of spring showers unfurl their new leaves in the vibrant green of a Van Gogh.
Some dreams may even come to fruition during the lazy days of red watermelons and summer sunshine, golden as the rape flowers that paint the rolling hills of Berkshire. Some, on the other hand, may lie fallow awaiting fertile conditions in which to flourish.
But like the fragrance of the honeysuckle hedge beneath the kitchen window, they linger and as winter returns, so do they. In the cherished hours of reverie they arise unbidden to beguile and tantalize the mind again with their promised possibilities.
~*~
Writing A Different Kind of Fall
The leaves are gilding in the Autumn sun and this morning the sleepy town of Newport purred under the first seasonal rain. Houses clung like hamsters to surrounding hills, the late wisteria hanging in wet, fragrant tangles from trellises.
The heady scent of wood smoke and fallen apples mixed with the tangy sea air. Droplets ran in shiny tracks across my cheeks and wet, stringy hair clung to my face. But, I didn’t care. I was running away from phones and faxes and undone office work. I was making peace with this wonderful day.
Eventually, reluctant clouds yielded to the golden rays of the sun, dappling the ocean and playing in the electric green of the wet grass. In furrows, newly birthed streams chatted happily on their way to the ocean and everywhere rain puddles mirrored the depth of the endless autumn sky.
In my garden waits a god from one of the suns of Andromeda. I knew when he arrived last night. But he will have to wait, as do the many papers on my desk, till tomorrow. Today I am leading the charge in a rebellion of one! I reject at least for this day the “shoulds” and “musts” of duty. I embrace the wondrous miracles of life unfolding around me; the pulsating rhythms of nature’s heartbeat.
~*~
November 6, 2008: One Empowering Moment At a Time
Many envy the success of others without realizing the self-discipline, faith and dogged self-belief that go into producing it. Success is achieved by a combination of wings and roots; by holding the desired outcome firmly in one’s vision but laying the foundation and structure of one’s dream is done step by step.
Exponential growth does not mean the skipping of steps or lack of attention to detail. Last night my son won the office of states representative. At 28 years old he is not only the youngest, but has created the largest turnover in Oregon history against his very vicious opponent. He did this by single-handedly knocking on more than 10,000 doors and writing notes and comments to every single person who spoke to him at their door.
If we can live one moment gloriously, and then the next and the next – greatness is born – but it comes one choice at a time. |