life’s passages … 68

winterwalk

Nikon D750… f/1.8 1/800s 35mm 200 ISO

“FRIDAY MORNING, 9 O’CLOCK. People complain about how dark it is in the mornings. But this is often the best time of my day, when the dawn peers grey and silent into my pale windows. Then my bright little table lamp becomes a blazing spotlight and floods over the big black shadow of my desk. … This morning I am wonderfully peaceful. Just like a storm that spent itself. I have noticed that this always happens following days of intense inner striving after clarity, birth pangs with sentences and thoughts that refuse to be born and make tremendous demands on you. Then suddenly it drops away, all of it, and a benevolent tiredness enters the brain, then everything feels calm again …”

cited: Trans: Arno Pomerans, An Interrupted Life The Diaries of Etty Hillesum, pg 69.

life’s passages … 65

brendakofford_dandelionproject9118b-webThe ocean of suffering is immense, but if you turn around, you can see the land. The seed of suffering in you may be strong, but don’t wait until you have no more suffering before allowing yourself to be happy. When one tree in the garden is sick, you have to care for it. But don’t overlook all the healthy trees. Even while you have pain in your heart, you can enjoy the many wonders of life — the beautiful sunset, the smile of a child, the many flowers and trees. To suffer is not enough. Please don’t be imprisoned by your suffering. … When you have suffered, you know how to appreciate the elements of paradise that are present. If you dwell only in your suffering, you will miss paradise. Don’t ignore your suffering, but don’t forget to enjoy the wonders of life. For your sake and the benefit of many beings.

When I was young, I wrote this poem. I penetrated the heart of the Buddha with a heart that was deeply wounded.

My youth
an unripe plum.
Your teeth have left their marks on it.
The tooth marks still vibrate.
I remember always,
remember always

Since I learned how to love you,
the door of my soul has been left wide open
in the winds of the four directions.
Reality calls for change.
The fruit of awareness is already ripe,
and the door can never be closed again.

Fire consumes this century,
and mountains and forest bear its mark.
The wind howls across my ears,
while the whole sky shakes violently in the snowstorm.

Winter’s wounds lie still,
Missing the frozen blade,
Restless, tossing and turning
in agony all night.

I grew up in a time of war…Once the door of awareness has been opened, you cannot close it. The wounds of war in me are still not all healed. … Embrace your suffering, and let it reveal to you the way to peace.

~Thich Nhat Hanh (The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, pp. 3-5)

life’s passages … 60

Who speaks the sound of an echo?

Who paints the image in a mirror?

Where are the spectacles in a dream?

Nowhere at all — that’s the nature of mind!

                                                             ~Tree-Leaf Woman*

*cited:

Women in Praise of the Sacred

Ed: Jane Hirshfield

life’s passages … 59

June brings to mind the summer between the fifth and six grades when a family move felt like an earthquake…an unexpected event that shattered my pre-adolescent footing.

Life seems to be filled with those moments…those moments when the phone or doorbell rings and in the summoned steps between here and there we are, unknowingly, moving towards a voice…a presence that messages the unimagined without a return to the life we embraced. These life changing moments occur throughout our lives…some of them are, in hindsight, minor losses that resolve through a period of resistance, anger, tears, and sleep. Then, there are those losses and deaths that first numb us and then leave us so shaken that our life view…our life scape is forever altered.

On Monday, of last week, once again a shattering moment as I walked from there to here. A cancer diagnosis, accompanied with many discussions of the potentiality of death…its meaning, its resolution, its fear, its expectations, its imprisonment, its choice, its loss of consciousness…but never, ever its actual moment of being.

In the past, I found that the resistance to these moments has the potential to open doors to new understandings that will, in time, bring an acceptance to or intensify the various elements of grief and loss. These sacred journeys also have the potential to inspire creative endeavor that gives voice to loss that is heard and felt by others and begins to ease an unimagined loneliness.

But, not today…not today as my body trembles with grief-driven anxiety. My mind is shaken with a constant flow of unanswerable questions. My total being is pushed again and again by the expectations of others and an undercurrent sense of denial pleading that this is another navel deployment.

lens-artists: circles

There was a time when the words an instructor interrupted my wondering mind, “there is no perfect justice and, then later, no perfect circle.” Again, a world view punctured.

Photo challenges that encourage a photo walk in search of a particular color (red is an easy color as it is often used within advertisement) or a particular composition element in photography are heaps of fun.

Circles, I find, are like the color red…they are everywhere.

circled by a hedge
of wild roses…
mountain home ~Issa (www.haikuguy.com)

Thank you Leya for this invitation to open my eyes to the world of circles.

life’s passages … 58

A sunflower taller than

your dad, uncle, and grandpa,

A sunflower reaching to touch a trees’ branches half-way up to the crown.

Though, I do imagine, an ant wandering about on the sunflower would believe it touched the blue-blue sky.

Nearby a yellow garden spider lunching on a white butterfly … sunflower yellow.

Fuji X-T4 … f/4 . 1/750 . 32.5mm . 160 ISO Edited: Capture One