It is She who held the Hand when my hands were clenched and unwilling.
It is She who guided my steps while I hid my face from the world.
It is She who said, "I know you are in pain, but look...there is a ladybug...look...clouds...look...tiny feathers...look...flowers..."
"Please...See," She whispers gently.
It is She who is sitting with the Great Friend and is not afraid to snuggle up next to Him. A garland of backyard dandelions sits on her head and the warm sun tells her she is safe...and always has been.
Drawing - Figured drawn last night at a friend's house, coloring in the dim light while watching old episodes of 21 Jumpstreet. This morning I cut her out and glued her to blue construction paper.
My heart is an unset jewel Upon the tender night Yearing for its dear old friend, the Moon.
When the Nameless One debuts again Ten thousands facets of my being unfurl wings And reveal such a radiance inside I enter a realm divine-- I too begin to so sweetly cast light, Like a lamp through the streets of this World.
My heart is an unset jewel Upon existence Waiting for the Friend's touch.
Tonight My heart is an unset ruby Offered bowed and weeping to the Sky.
I am dying in these cold hours For the resplendent glance of God.
I am dying because of divine remembrance of who I really am.
Hafiz, tonight your soul is a brilliant reed instrument in need of the breath of the Christ.
What if I didn't sing out? And instead sang down through my feet... the ones that stand barefoot on the kitchen floor.
What if I didn't love in a straight line? But instead hopped and skipped and jumped... up and down, left and right...around... spiraling down to the Center.
What if God's stitches are crooked? Could I bare such a perfect Glory? I can! I can as you encourage me to stand on this rock with eyes on the horizon... knowing I carry the beginning stitches in my hem.
Take your needle, my child, and work at your pattern --
it will come out a rose by and by.
Life it like that...one stitch at a time, taken patiently.
There is a Skittle commercial where a boy is standing outside with a branch growing through his upper belly - a Skittle tree blooming with the wee colorful candy. My reaction to the odd commercial?? "Gross!"
Oh, the irony! In the past year, I have been drawing images into my sketch book of figures with branches growing through them, but this is the first one to appear on my blog (I think).
Oh, I had to laugh! When I draw it, I don't think it's gross. Hahaha!
"Human kindness is over flowing And I think it's going to rain today."
Artwork - 2.5 x 3.5 colored pencil - drawn this morning as a hard Spring rain calmed down leaving a gray sky and lots of birds chirping. I Think It's Going to Rain today was written by Randy Newman. I adore (and am haunted) by Neil Diamond's version.
It is Thursday afternoon. I just stood up from sitting on the carpet in front of the open patio slider. The air is soft and floats by but not in...it's been a warm day. My shirt is too hot and my pants are too tight around the waist. And now at my feet is a mess of construction paper, scissors and a glue stick. Repeatedly I glance back to make sure the lid is on the glue.
What am I doing? I am watching myself dance between choices.
I did something VERY doofus today and I knew I had the choice to spend the evening punishing myself, or letting it go. I decided both!
"Yes God, look at me eating my emotions," I think to myself as I pour chocolate chips into the peanut butter jar and grab a spoon. Suddenly, it isn't nearly as fun, or tasty. Just moments before that, I stretched out on my bed. "I will breathe. I will be kind to myself. I will rest." Then the neighbors yippy dog started barking. In the end, I threw myself on the floor for some basic play - paper, glue and scissors.
I danced in a new pattern. I floundered in an old one.
Self-defeating behavior: check. Sacred Breathing: check. Make another mess: check. Fume, pray and let got in a dizzying cyclical pattern: check.
My work here is done. Love. Let it go. Lighten up.
"Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere-be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost."
- Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Art - colored pencil on colored paper, 2001. Bouncing and floundering and laughing and crying... and floating and grappling... all in a day's work. I have previously shared the Betty Smith quote from my favorite book, but it was calling to me and I had to share it again.
When I was 5 my mom had the Tapestry album by Carole King. I loved this song! I loved it so much I would lock myself in the bathroom (alone and away from older siblings), sit on the toilet and sing this song out.