Wednesday, March 13, 2013


After going at least 100 miles an hour and accomplishing a lot yesterday in my studio, it felt so satisfying. I thought I would be dead to the world asleep, when evening arrived. Instead, I had a restless night with barely a few hours of sporadic sleep, despite the lullaby of constant rain that fell all night. I awakened to the morning darkness and more rain, a comfort in fact, that seemed to signal, "do less". I could not even find my glasses, to see what?, I don't know, in the darkness. The birds on the suet seem so energetic today, vying for their perfect vantage point, to grab snippets of seeds. The Varied Thrush and Flicker are especially perky today as it continues to rain and they wrestle for food. The Nuthatches and Towhees flurry about them, waiting for a break in the action, so that they too, can snag a stray seed. I feel so sluggish, so I suppose the birds seem even more energetic in contrast to me . I am reminded of this poem by Mary Oliver, that seems particularly fitting for me today. Permission in a sense to stop, gather my food, and energy for tomorrow's creating. After a day of constant "doing", it seems like an appropriate mantra for this day, today. The sacred pause.


Today I'm flying low and I'm

not saying a word.

I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I'm taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I'm traveling
a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.

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