Reflections

The Dollar Christmas Plate

/ still a dreamer

christmasplateHow does one know the Christmas season has begun? Ignoring the fact that the onslaught of marketing for the holidays has now begun shortly after Halloween to make commercialism at an all time high of 7-8 weeks,  what happens in your home that says Christmas will soon be coming?

For me, it’s the bringing forth of two different Christmas dishes – my humble, dollar store plates and my bright red, green and white decorated, coffee mugs.  I’ll admit that perhaps why they are the first manifestation of Christmas is that they are conveniently at hand, as are all my dishes, right there in a kitchen cabinet. But there’s something about putting away my winter mugs and replacing them them with the festive red ones, and putting away my stoneware plates in a lower cabinet, their upper spot now taken with these simple china plates, that gets hopes and dreams to stirring.

No doubt the dollar store plates were made in China, too, (the mugs were made in Germany), so as befits this time of celebration, each year I bless those who made and painted them and thank them for this small joy that marks the beginning of the season for me.

Christmas changes as we grow older … once it was the excitement of opening presents under the tree in the morning; later, coming home from college and seeing family and old friends; then through relationships, perhaps children, and so it goes. Each year becoming a little bit different, offering some slightly different gift. Christmas steadily brings the exchange of warm wishes of family and friends, some who we barely have time to keep up with during the year. Cards are still sent and received, and though sometimes in too much of a rush, we get them out and delight at the treasure in our mailboxes.

Among our gifts may be something thoughtful from someone unexpected, new friends, the comfort and love of old ones, new music that fits us just right, the book that we need to read exactly at this moment in time, a candle scent carrying us back over time … riches, all.  The care, preparation, hopes and dreams of each of our Christmas or holiday seasons always begins with one simple thing … something as simple as a dollar Christmas plate.

Asleep at the Switch

/ still a dreamer

“We are most deeply asleep at the switch when we fancy we control any switches at all.” – Annie Dillard

emergencyswitchIt was my thought to delve into one of my favorite books, “Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy” by Sarah Ban Breathnacht, for the month of December. But when I picked up the book and put the placemarker ribbon to the top, the book fell open to November 30th – a sure sign that this is what I was supposed to read. And the quote above was at the top of the day’s reading.

Of course, this was what I was meant to read. We all come through periods when it seems everything goes right – things get done with minimal effort; the results we desire are achieved; and all is well. We feel in control. And then comes a rough patch – a car accident; the furnace isn’t working; the oven dies; the furnace is fixed but the emergency switch is faulty and won’t turn the furnace off if there IS an emergency; the new stove fumes are so toxic they cause a severe allergic reaction; and on and on and on. It seems nothing is in our control.

But there is one thing we can control – our thoughts and our reactions. We will never be in control of all the things that happen around us; that’s just life. Believing we’re in control during the smooth patches becomes an illusion that is easily shattered when life deals out a whole bunch of crap. Learning to be in the moment and accept the things that happen and move through them without fear is a lesson we all can learn and/or practice. And why the book fell open to this page for me.

The switch at the head of the stairs is now fixed. I feel safer, but understand that the switch is no guarantee. It’s an interesting place to be.

Inspiration

/ still a dreamer

Where do we get our inspiration? How is it affected by our moods?  Though not the case today, once was a time when the sadder and more tragic my life was, the more I wrote. To this day, I’d say some of my best poetry came from a sad place.

But why not joy? Why not both? Why not the endless mysteries of life? I find my inspiration to write and draw comes from such a myriad of places … searching for a fall image in my clip art or on iStock, I find myself momentarily lost in the soft, misty photos of autumn trees and roads, and I know down that road lies a story. And I can tell you it’s a wistful one.

Looking at a wmv file of dolphins creating their own rings underwater and then playing with and bursting them with their noses, I see a tale of wonder. I know there’s a story of swimming with them, to really be among them, and share moments of our intertwined lives and ancient histories. It might first be a tale of wonder, then of empathy and joy and lightness. In shimmering, watery blues.

While I work at the computer, I listen to the radio through iTunes. I’ve rediscovered one of my very favorite music genres on FolkAlley.com.  I’m once again entranced by the simplicity of folk music, and struck by the endless stories complemented by six and twelve string guitar. The music takes me back to another time when feelings were alternately bright and shiny, rich and deep, overwhelming and frightening – living away from home for the first time and in New York City. I’m at home with folk music. While connecting me to the past, it remains contemporary. The stories it tells bring me images for illustrations and I’m dreaming in rhythm.

Some days I feel myself a portal for infinite possibilities … inspiration everywhere. How about you?

Quote from Emerson

/ still a dreamer

“The misery of man appears like childish petulance, when we explore the steady and prodigal provision that has been made for his support and delight on this green ball which floats him through the heavens.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson, from Nature

One Little Piggy …

/ still a dreamer

It struck me, as I looked through the many shots I’ve taken with my digital camera, how many I’ve taken of late for “a reason” and how few just for the joy. Even this shot of a wonderful bronze-like piggy that I purchased from a local craftsperson for an amazing price was taken to show someone else. Yet I enjoy that I’ve captured the pig in this photo.

I’m pondering this as I look at the most likely end to an incident that happened to me about 2 weeks ago. I was struck by a Toyota Sequoia shortly after I, a pedestrian, had entered the crosswalk. It took a lot of energy out of me, and of course, tending to believe, as we often do, that I’m invincible, I am also upset and frustrated that I can’t quite move on with my life as planned. Two weeks later, I’m healing rather well, and realizing how much worse it could have been. So despite bills that will be coming my way, and aways to go before several of the injuries will be resolved, I’m still much happier being less scathed.

Then I noticed that I just exhaled. The worst is over. And for whatever that means, it does mean this – I can get on with the part of my life that was suspended in mid-air, the most creative part. I have not felt like journaling; I have not drawn so much as a stick; and have not been working on my children’s books. Who felt like it? Who knew how this would all go? Now I know, and I’ll be picking up and moving on. I hadn’t expected that the most, and perhaps least obvious, area of my life to be affected would be my creativity. Somewhere in the physical pain, discomfort, disbelief at my fate, sadness, anxiety and all that went along with it, creativity just got snuffed out.

So I’m re-igniting the pilot light. I’m looking at this little bronze-like pig that appears to be smiling when I look at her. Yeah – I believe I’m back.