Lost and Found in the Rhythm

After finishing at the fair, neither Randy nor I felt like spending our evenings at home by ourselves so we decided to go somewhere. But where? It had been a warm afternoon at the fair so a place with water became a requirement. I wanted to go to a mountain lake but we didn't have enough time for that. Champoeg State Park was too much in the valley for my tastes besides the fact the Willamette would be the water form for that park and as my sister says, that river will deform your feet. It was then I had the brilliant idea, (or was it God whispering in my ear?), to go to North Fork. I hadn't been there since I was a young teenager but looking it up, discovered it was less than a half hour away from Salem. Amazing how some things just work out isn't it?

When we arrived at the park, it was to a nearly empty parking lot. The sun was lowering on the horizon casting the trees and pathway in a golden light, bringing out the bright tinge of the leaves along the path. Berry and pine aromas filled the air and we could hear the water running over the rocks. When we arrived at the river's edge, we found a playground of stones and rivulets of water running between them. One particular spot was especially beautiful to behold as the water fell over a rock ledge into a basin below. I stepped into the current and played around climbing over the rocks and letting the water cool my soul. While trying to get back to shore, I slipped on one of the smooth stones and fell half way in. After picking myself up and seeing a large turn in the river, we walked further along to get a better view. It was beautiful. Crystal clear in the shallow pools, the water was a deep shade of emerald green in the depths. Wading in the water, feeling a part of the earth's rhythm, I handed over my glasses to Randy and joined in the river's drumming. The water took me into it's heart, swallowing me whole, birthing my body anew. Carried by the life blood of the earth, I at last emerged renewed, cleansed, once more in sync with the spirit that bore me, the spirit through which I breath. Being in the trees, rocks, and water, I feel more myself, can sense my unbreakable bond with God more clearly, than I can ever hope to anywhere else. I go to the ocean shore to find God, I go to the mountains to find myself.

365-09 #241

Paint Brushes In My Hand

Do you remember that nap? It turns out it was one of those things that are good at the time but not so great later on. I cleaned the kitchen at midnight and when I did finally get to bed, I had a hard time falling asleep. I love naps but it made teaching tap rather difficult today. Lucky for Sheri and I no other students came to Irish so we went out for a beer in the sun instead after teaching the kids class. There is a better rhythm in there somewhere. I'll keep looking for it. I think it may be buried under the quilt pieces laying across my keyboard. I haven't played my music in a long time.

I can see through the trees someone is shooting off illegal fireworks. I rather wish God would set off fireworks. Something lit up in the sky like Annie's name at the end of "Annie" the movie. Direction, guidance, something in red, I'm not picky! But then I hear the voices of those around me, those insistent and annoying yet welcome voices saying the same things over and over again and it occurs to me that their voices may be God's fireworks in the sky. Do I keep looking for God's guidance and ignore the trusted voices around me? Are they telling me the important things I need to do that I keep leaving off the to-do pile? Have I been dreaming of things in my life I forgot to live that life? I think I've been looking at parts of my life like I would look at a beautiful painting in a museum and have just recently woken up to the realization that there are paint brushes in my hand.

365-09 #182

Giving Myself Margins

I have been thinking a lot about rhythm and balance. In my life, I have an internal rhythm I am learning to pay attention to. For example, I know two hours doing something is about my limit before I need a break. This may be working on a project at home, at work, or even going out for a coffee with a friend. After about two hours, I start fighting it and need to do something else. Without a formal job and flexible time on my hands, I have been thinking how I would like to arrange my time so I get what I need to done but also keep my body and soul nourished. This morning I tried something new. First I woke up at a decent hour, put in about an hour and a half working on the Pentacle photos, then went swimming for a bit. I like swimming in the mornings because no one is there, the pool is in full sunlight, the sky is the deepest blue you have seen, and I like the exertion and time to think at the beginning of the day. Whether it's swimming, writing in my journal, walking, or reading, I like the idea of putting in work first and then taking that time for myself. It's kind of like a farmer doing chores at dawn and then coming in for breakfast. I think there may be something to that rhythm. From there, my schedule is going to vary a lot from day to day but when I got home from working as a personal assistant in the afternoon, I took a nap before going to tap dancing rehearsal. I had been "on" the whole afternoon and I could feel I needed that time to just take time and rest.

I tend to work on a project full tilt until I'm done but I can't do that and sustain myself. I have to give myself space, margins. I'm also learning I can't leave the truly important things for when I'm done with the things that are due. If I keep leaving the important things for when I'm done with everything else, if I don't make space for what I am really called to do, I will never get to it. This is what I'm working on now.

365-09 #180