It feels as if somebody lit a fire under me. Friday night I painted the bathroom adjoining my office. Saturday morning I painted the guest bathroom and Saturday afternoon I went to a DIY store and purchased plants, then planted the herbs and impatiens and coleus in the courtyard. Sunday morning I did a four mile SUP board paddle at a cruisin’ pace, came home and then went back to my favorite DIY stores and purchased more plants, pieces and parts for my experimental vertical garden and assembled it, and planted the containers. Today I went to Pensacola and purchased groceries at my favorite healthy food co-op, came home raked leaves until I was exhausted, went back to the DIY store and purchased a leaf blower (I caved….couldn’t handle all the leaves with one rake and one body pushing it), came home…put the blower together and used it to blow leaves until almost sunset, then cleaned out the potting shed and organized it, hung two hanging basket brackets and assembled the baskets and hung them. And I wonder why my desk is getting buried. Oh, and I washed and dried three loads of clothes somewhere in the midst of those three days.
Today a book I purchased on-line, Finding Florida: The True History of the Sunshine State arrived. All 500+ pages. When I fall asleep reading it, it will most likely give me a mild concussion (hardcover edition). But with my desk needing attention it’s doubtful the book will capture my attention too soon. Here’s a random quote from the book: “I would have been a rich man, if it hadn’t been for Florida.” Henry Flagler, on his Florida expenditures. I might say that same quote but delete the word Florida and insert…Lowes and Home Depot.
The changing of the season has ushered in some powerful energy to help clear out the old and create new places of beauty. I’m following the urge to spring into action.
This is NOT representative of this morning’s behavior from my darlings.
I awakened to soft thuds overhead. Cat play on carpet. I had been dreaming of a white vulture soaring overhead and waked in the middle of the dream. I lay there half awake wondering the meaning of such an unfamiliar symbol. Heady thoughts so early in the morning and soon interrupted by the thundering of cats down the stairway.
Gracie practiced her balance beam act on the footboard while Stanley practiced his gymnastic moves above me on the headboard. The hawk screeching outside my home and the combined acrobatics of my cat companions called me to get up and check the weather forecast.
Last night I read where high winds were predicted for today so when it was quiet outside I literally ran to put on my SUP boarding shorts and shirt and was out the door before coffee. I could smell the salt marsh far upriver so the wind announced itself with gentleness, prior to anything more than a whisper. By the time I reached the downriver side of Bemis Bay the ripples began. As I rounded the corner at Washer Woman’s Point, I saw and felt the beginnings of the ‘serious’ wind…but that wasn’t what really caught my attention.
Black vulture near Crystal River, FL
Perched on a cypress tree was a beautiful vulture, wings spread, heart facing the morning sun. Her wing feathers were white and so I remembered the dream. But I had the rest of my four mile paddle to complete and lucky for me, had a downwinder on the way back up river.
My experimental wall garden..the 2 x 4’s will be painted once they are dry
The rest of the day was spent putting together a project I’ve been dreaming of for weeks–designing and building a system to grow veggies and herbs on the east side of my home. Literally…on my home. It’s very sunny there, while the rest of my yard isn’t and the garage gets very hot in the summer so I wanted to install some sort of green wall to see if it would keep my garage from boiling during July and August.
My new bromeliad friends make the courtyard an even happier place
I would rather grow flowers because I simply have a thing for them. But my farmer genes nudge me to try my hand once again at growing food. My dad and grandfather would probably laugh at my vertical garden. And honestly, I bought more flowers—some outrageous bromeliads. I can’t help it. Can’t I live off of beauty? Do I really have to eat?
All through the day of building, possibly cursing at trying to hold 8 foot 2 x 4’s up while screwing them into the wall, attaching the boxes, planting the plants into the boxes….I kept thinking about the white vulture. When I finished my farmer-girl activities I ran upstairs and looked up ‘white vulture’ on my trusty internet search engine.
It is a symbol of the feminine in Egyptian mythology. In Pueblo mythology it is a symbol of restored harmony that had been broken. It is a symbol of the return of the self. (Pause…..and repeat please).
Photo of me probably 17 years ago….
How appropriate. How perfect. Since my father’s illness and death (when I was 21) I have been in a series of relationships with no gap between them. Recently I have done some deep healing as I find myself alone for the first time in 32 years. And I wanted to be alone as I found myself repeating the same old patterns. Sick of myself, I journeyed out on my own to heal. To grow. I couldn’t repeat the familiar behaviors anymore. It was deadening.
At this almost year mark of my time with only me and my baggage, I find myself dreaming of white vultures and realizing that I am discovering who I am…I had never given myself space or time to figure that out and in some ways had remained the wounded young woman throughout my relationships. How appropriate that in my time of conscious healing, the goddess of feminine energy pays me a dreamtime visit.
Self-portrait 2013
After all these years I am finally healing the old wounds. I have no idea where this new-found wholeness will take me but I’m guessing it has something to do with growing flowers or morphing into a vulture….once I figure it out I’ll let you know.
Insects humming and chirping outside the window tonight remind me of the cycles of life. Outrageous blooms at the Festival of Flowers in Mobile created within me a welcoming embrace of new life, a celebration of crazy colors and shapes that even now, two days later, make me smile.
I wrote a several days ago about the intelligence of flowers. Today their beauty simply reminds me to celebrate the cycles of my life–all of them. And to drink in the beauty found everywhere.
From the east comes the light and rebirth and the fresh air of spring.
From the south comes warmth and the fire of summer and growth.
From the west comes deepening and the maturity of autumn and diving into the watery realms of the subconscious.
From the north comes wisdom and quiet and deep stillness of winter.
“When a woman awakens to the beauty/power within her she will bloom as a flower she has always been and always will be.” Sharon McErlane wrote this quote as a message to women across our planet. Her words touch my heart and resonate with intuitive nudges I’ve been receiving.
We currently see discourses that are gridlocked. The US Congress shows us what no longer works. Trying to push and shove our way, shout our way or use anger to influence decisions is an outdated way to interact. We absolutely must find a new way–not just in our government but worldwide…beginning with ourselves.
During the past several months my journey has made me see my use of angry, aggressive out-of-balance masculine or yang energy. Wanting to heal and move forward in my life’s work, I found myself acting aggressively in my healing process. In anger I attempted to close my heart and mind with ‘pull and jerk’ moves. I actually thought I could force myself to heal by ignoring my heart, ignoring unconditional love patting me on my granite head…tapping at my heart.
A strange series of events knocked me out of my usual mode of operation and I tired of ricocheting against my self-imposed walls. I finally became conscious and saw how totally ineffective the old way was. It was the exact opposite of how I want to live.
Attempting to heal in an aggressive manner goes against the very idea of healing (shaking head, rolling eyes, laughing).
When my heart was given the space to open, I recognized the gentle yet consistent pushes I’ve been getting–focus on beauty;allow my heart to open, to flower; cultivate compassion, gentleness and softness. I couldn’t move forward with my work in the world until my inflexible, ineffective patterns were broken and released…then healed.
I believe people across our planet are awakening to yin energy. We are in dire need of it. Yin energy is receptive, strong, balanced, compassionate and is a container for love, a holding vessel.
Using balanced feminine energy doesn’t make a person weak and it isn’t manipulative like unbalanced feminine energy can be. And it’s not only about women. We all contain both masculine and feminine energy within us. We simply need to balance our fast-paced, active, aggressive lives with this softer energy. We need time to reflect and enter into a friendlier relationship with ourselves and others.
Flowers reflect the essence of feminine or yin energy in their blooming and unfolding. They are strong and have an amazing capacity to bring healing energy to any situation. Flowers make us feel better. So I’m focusing on one of nature’s expressions of the feminine to remind me to stay open, stay soft yet strong.
Balanced feminine energy holds the earth and cradles all life. This is what I wish to strengthen on the planet and within my own life.
My manfrotto tripod has allowed me to capture images in low light situations as well as images of myself when there’s nobody around to squeeze the shutter and I want to remember that I WAS HERE! In Cornwall, Great Britain
My old Manfrotto tripod has been with me in mountain streams, in the Gulf of Mexico, to Bonaire, the Pacific Northwest, Mexico, in Mobile Bay, Cornwall, Glastonbury….and places in between. During my travels it has supported my camera in low light situations and thus supported the work I do.
Sunset at Gulf of Mexico…the salt water and quartz sand just about finished my poor Manfrotto off….(sigh)
Last summer nearly destroyed my work-horse tripod. I was using it in the Gulf taking photographs of the sunset. Sand and salt water got into every crevice until the legs sounded like a pepper grinder with glass in it when I attempted to adjust them. I took it apart after rinsing it and cleaned it but it has given notice that its days are numbered. Too much irritation from those pesky granules of white quartz sand. One too many trips in checked luggage handled by gorillas who work in the baggage handling black hole of airports (remember those commercials?).
So after much gnashing of teeth I have invested in a Really Right Stuff ball head carbon fiber tripod. Or I have ordered it. New support system on the way! The thing about these tripods is they are the best support you can purchase for cameras….or so they claim. Strong, durable, made in the USA! And with their support, the Nikon D 800 can almost turn flips panning to get those shots I’ve never been able to get before…just because of the incredible support provided.
A good support system allows a photographer to capture images that she can be in…where she doesn’t want to forget the company or the place. This was taken at Observatory Beach on the western peninsula of Washington
Support. Isn’t it amazing to receive. The definition of support includes words like sustain, hold up, bear, serve as foundation for, maintain by supplying necessities. Throughout my life there have been definite supporters–believers in my work, my path. Yes…they have even believed in me when I haven’t. When I doubted.
My mother is such a support…a “tripod” in my life that has witnessed my first breath and lived through my cave diving, solo travel abroad and other exploits that have pushed her fear buttons. I really appreciate her. (And no mom, I don’t think of you as the old Manfrotto…smile).
There have been many others as well. And maybe there are taboos on writing about a former husband but I’ve never been one to follow rules. The support that Ray gave me throughout our time together was solid. He was a foundation for helping me gather myself up from a time, many years ago, when I had lost nearly everything. From the beginning he believed in what I came to the planet to do, even when I felt smothered in self-doubt. When my first book was published he gave me a framed copy with the words Dreams Do Come True printed beneath the book. I keep it hanging over my desk as a reminder.
Without support, this image wouldn’t have been possible. Ray gazing into the night sky on the Blue Ridge Parkway
While the winds of change blew us apart physically, I know without a doubt that his support over a decade ago, and throughout our relationship, is what made the difference in my life. That is truly the really right stuff. And I remain deeply grateful.
It feels as if somebody lit a fire under me. Friday night I painted the bathroom adjoining my office. Saturday morning I painted the guest bathroom and Saturday afternoon I went to a DIY store and purchased plants, then planted the herbs and impatiens and coleus in the courtyard. Sunday morning I did a four mile SUP board paddle at a cruisin’ pace, came home and then went back to my favorite DIY stores and purchased more plants, pieces and parts for my experimental vertical garden and assembled it, and planted the containers. Today I went to Pensacola and purchased groceries at my favorite healthy food co-op, came home raked leaves until I was exhausted, went back to the DIY store and purchased a leaf blower (I caved….couldn’t handle all the leaves with one rake and one body pushing it), came home…put the blower together and used it to blow leaves until almost sunset, then cleaned out the potting shed and organized it, hung two hanging basket brackets and assembled the baskets and hung them. And I wonder why my desk is getting buried. Oh, and I washed and dried three loads of clothes somewhere in the midst of those three days.
Today a book I purchased on-line, Finding Florida: The True History of the Sunshine State arrived. All 500+ pages. When I fall asleep reading it, it will most likely give me a mild concussion (hardcover edition). But with my desk needing attention it’s doubtful the book will capture my attention too soon. Here’s a random quote from the book: “I would have been a rich man, if it hadn’t been for Florida.” Henry Flagler, on his Florida expenditures. I might say that same quote but delete the word Florida and insert…Lowes and Home Depot.
From the south comes warmth and the fire of summer and growth.
