calm

Reminded of Gratitude

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

It’s still early this morning, and I sit in my favorite journaling spot by the front windows as I always do.

I’m not feeling 100% – just one of those mornings one needs to take a little extra time to breathe, and let the day unfold gently.

The sun is rising slowly, brightly illuminating the left side of the porch posts outside; birds are singing their celebration of a new day, and I am listening to this music, so calming with the water running in the background –

Despite the fact that I am feeling pretty far from where I’d like to be at this precise moment, and am not even sure where exactly that is, I also realize that there are thousands, maybe millions, of people who would give anything to be sitting where I am right now …

… to be able to sit calmly and safely; and have the ability to push the day back just a bit before actually starting it; to sit with a cup of coffee and watch the sun slowly lighten the sky. We can forget how much better off we are in our own little lives than so many people in the world. Especially now.

I humbly and gratefully accept all the good I have right now, and trust that my life is unfolding exactly as it should be, no matter how that may feel at any given moment. Even a gentle morning is a gift, and a reminder of abundance. And so it is.

The Right to Daydream

/ still a dreamer / 8 Comments

Is it okay to just stare out the window and do nothing for a while?

It’s Memorial Day weekend. Sadly, for all the barbecues, parades, and outdoor activities planned, it’s going to be a complete washout. It’s been raising all day and it will continue through till Tuesday. For myself, I have a couple smaller get-togethers planned, both indoors with friends, and which include coffee.

When I came back home from brunch earlier, I realized I had no desire to do anything. Truly, nothing. I brought my book, a sketchbook, and my phone over to the sofa by the front windows, invited Charlie to come and curl up, and looked out at the rain.

And despite a little scrolling and reading a few pages, that’s what I did — stared out at the rain. I watched the patterns it made in the big puddle at the edge of the sidewalk. I watched a squirrel pop up on my porch railing and eat a walnut he had unearthed from somewhere. I watched the trees swaying in the dark and cloudless sky. It felt good.

With all the things we always have to do or feel compelled to do, are we not entitled to spend some time “doing nothing”? Can we not just let go of all the `shoulds’ that so tightly bind us?

Do we not have the right to daydream?

Here’s hoping, whatever the weekend weather is bringing to you, that you take the time to curl up and look out your window and watch the world go by. Even if only for a little while.

Music Makes It Better

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

It can’t make it all better, but it definitely does make it better.

In the morning, when I settle down to do some follow-up on my recent posts on Instagram; add a couple stories; check in and read recent updates of those I follow; it is always a very positive experience, because the algorithm knows what I want. Often, in these meanderings, I find new music, posted through one avenue or another.

It’s hard these days to read too much, though, without running headlong into posts on IG or Threads of the chaos that is consuming this country. It’s deeply disturbing, beyond saddening. And then I came across this song, Sand Drawing. A beautiful respite.

Judah Earl is a young American composer, arranger, and producer. He plays the cello, and in this song has woven in strains of calm and peace, a refuge from the daily assaults we are now subjected to. I dare say that it has something almost holy about it.

Music somehow always makes it better. I know, because a lifetime of leaning on its shoulders, bowing my head into notes that are timeless, tell me so.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.”
~ Osho

The Season

/ still a dreamer / 6 Comments

It seems that the holidays feel different every year. It’s not a matter of growing older, but maybe of seeing the world through different eyes.

Some years have seen good-sized gatherings, some years, small and intimate ones. Some years bright and merry, others quiet. There have been years where gift-buying was a big deal, others when it barely mattered at all. Years with COVID in play, years not.

The common thread? Change. Everything is always in motion, including how we spend our holidays, where, and with whom.

The other thread? Feeling grateful … for all the experiences the holidays have brought, and those they will bring.

Here’s hoping that you will not get lost in the rush, but lost in the peace, joy, and sweet calm of the season. I’ll be joining you for these.

It wouldn’t be the beginning of December if I didn’t mention that I have adorable Frenchie items for sale in my Etsy shop, or that my magical and beautiful picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night?, would make a great Christmas gift.

Cheers!

How We Remember the Past

/ still a dreamer / 16 Comments

Memory is a funny thing, isn’t it? It’s selective, exclusive, accurate, fictional, unreliable, illuminating, calming, and so much more. One of the ways we know how unreliable memory is is to have two people observe the same series of events and later ask that they recount them. To listen to some accounts, you would not think the people had witnessed the exact same events! If nothing else, memory is personal.

But the beauty of memories, I think, is their ability to bring peace, comfort, and happiness. The photo above, one of many likely sent around in a Power Point presentation (artists never recognized), is from a group of water-themed images. I am reasonably sure it’s Cape Cod or thereabouts. It’s had a special spot on my desktop for a couple weeks now even though I usually have a group set to change every hour.

Every time I look at it, I feel some deep sense of calm, and that calm comes from a memory. When I was a child, my parents sometimes took our family on driving vacations, that trusty AAA TripTik as our guide. Though I can’t remember how old I was at the time of this particular trip, I can remember the busy, narrow streets of Provincetown, bustling with locals and tourists alike. I can see the small, white clapboard shops and sparkling jars and bottles in every color of the rainbow, flags, kites, and … ice cream. I just remembered the ice cream.

And then there was the beach. What I remember so vividly is how totally different the Cape Cod beach was from the beaches where I grew up and frequented here in New Jersey.  The smell of the air, the texture of the sand, the look and feel and scent of the water as it rolled in — so much gentler than the crashing waves at the Jersey shore – the trees and greenery never found at any of the local beaches I’d ever been to. The fact that I have such consistently positive memories of Cape Cod tells me something else. All of us must have been happy.

So this image is going to rest a while longer on my desktop. More importantly, it is my new go-to peaceful place to visit when work gets too hectic, people unreasonable, when stress cranks up a bit. In our memories, there is always a place of calm and respite. This is mine. Feel free to come with.