Tag: nature

Remember the Light

Remember the Light

When you gaze into the clear night sky, the perception is there is darkness and only pinpoints of light. But when you take photographs of the night sky, a fundamental truth is revealed: It’s mostly light. So much light!

I regularly set up my tripod and camera and program my remote to continuously fire 10 to 20 second shots until my battery runs out, I’m too cold to continue, or clouds arrive. By doing this with the correct exposure, I capture the rotation of the Earth. It appears as star trails…and planet trails…when I stack those images in Photoshop. Streams of light are the reality!

Even though life can seem really dark, when we look closely those pinpoints of light, glowing in so many hearts, they become like fireworks of love all over the planet.

When I stand under the firmament and gaze into the heavens, my life is changed for the better. Every. Single. Time. 

Don’t think that because it looks dark, all is lost. Light is growing and continues to grow as we open our hearts and allow our lights to shine.

The Door is Open

The Door is Open

My hound often sits outside the pet door and barks to come inside….when the door has the solid panel removed. I’ll say, “Come on Vernon, the door is open!” And after a few minutes of thought, or something akin to thought, he comes through and climbs into his purple leather recliner. 

This morning, one of my cats did Vernon’s version of ‘the door is locked and I can’t get in.’ So I told her, “The door is open!” And she came inside.

This was an unusual behavior as Tawanda is super-smart (not saying Vernon isn’t super-smart…his nose is beyond intelligent). Any time something unusual happens, I stop and pay attention. Especially after the contemplation I had this morning.

I kept hearing: The door is open. Walk through! So I wrote it down and put the paper beside my computer. As I begin the work day, the paper kept staring at me and I remembered a story I shared at a book event this weekend.

I was hiking with a friend up Alum Cave trail to LeConte Lodge. There is a point where the trail flattens out after nearly five miles of climbing. The higher altitude forest opens up and it’s pure magic. Thick carpets of green moss, the smell of balsam fir, beautiful spruce and fir trees create a wonderland of beauty. On our way back from the lodge, I stopped and pulled out a flute and stood in the forest and said… ‘this is for you…thank you.’ 

As I played the melody, I felt my heart open and then a rush of energy move through me that brought me to tears. There was such connection with the forest. I felt it on a cellular level. 

As we hiked down, I contemplated the experience and realized the only thing keeping us from being in such profound harmony with life is ourselves. The forest is always there…open, strong, beautiful. We simply have to open our hearts to feel that Oneness.

In the book event with my friend and writer, Thomas Rain Crowe, I described the forest and flute moment and how I realized that the only thing keeping us from experiencing Oneness was ourselves. And the ‘fix’ is to open our hearts. 

To be in Oneness, to feel love and connection, we simply have to open ourselves. We’ve spent years building walls of protection and it was smart to do that when we were kids and trying to grow up and find our way. But as adults, those walls keep us from connecting. We can become addicted to adding to and stabilizing those walls, reinforcing them, to keep ourselves safe. But then, our world becomes smaller and scarier because we’re repeating our fears over and over. The way out of that fear cycle is to find ways to open again. For me, it’s with animals and forests…rivers, the night sky. When I dare to open my heart and listen to the forest, the rivers, wild animals and my own four-legged kiddos, I find I hear again and again, “The Door is open! Walk through!”

Misery is found in our self-created prison. 

We sit inside the cell and carve days into walls of stone

As the rusted, open door of iron bars silently waits.

A beam of light illuminates the opening

And we marvel at the beauty of it sparkling 

In the dungeon of our shadows.

It whispers, The Door is open. Walk through.

By the magic of grace, we walk through the open door

Of our heart and know freedom.

The Door is open. Walk through!

Rise Up

Rise Up

I took the day off from the paying gig to follow my passion. I created the music, then added images I’ve taken throughout the years. I hope you enjoy.

Finding Polaris

Finding Polaris

The nervous system was never meant to deal with the amount of information overload we are faced with every day. The mind is constantly spinning and the body becomes more and more stressed as the nervous system has no time to rest and unwind.

Last night, while standing under a sky filled with brilliant stars, galaxies, planets, and nebula, I reflected on how much star gazing—in particular photographing deep space objects and landscape astrophotography–has helped me learn to slow down. Several weeks of cloudy skies has taken away that meditative time in the dark outdoors and left me with an uncomfortable angst.

M 51 or The Whirlpool Galaxy

When I started photographing deep sky objects, I would jump from one amazing galaxy to a beautiful nebula or luminous star cluster, rarely allowing the telescope time to capture the long exposures needed as it gathered more light. I recall sitting outside under crystal clear winter skies feeling antsy and impatient at waiting. And waiting. And waiting for images to appear.

Finally, I understood the stars and all that deep space deliciousness was healing my nervous system. They were attuning me to a natural pace—the rhythm of Nature. Since we are all part of Nature, it’s odd that we are so disconnected from the rhythms of It.

While under the night sky observing, it’s impossible to see the stars and planets moving. But as you pair stars with earthly landmarks and continue watching, you will notice they have moved. Or if you place an object in a telescope view finder to see it, eventually it waltzes out of the field of view and you must reposition the telescope. The most telling sign of movement of sky objects is star trail images.

How lucky are we to have one object in the sky that doesn’t move…Polaris, or the North Star. Everything revolves around Polaris. If you set up a camera on a tripod facing this stillpoint and take a series of long exposures, and then stack them while processing, you see amazing movement. How can anything that appears to not be moving, move SO MUCH!?! That’s the magic of Nature. 

When we allow ourselves to sync with Nature’s rhythms, we slow down, but that doesn’t mean we stop. We simply go at a more natural pace that allows the nervous system to function normally…we sleep better, feel better, have more energy.

During these challenging times, never has it been so important to pause and allow the nervous system—the body system—to be in neutral stillness. Attuning to the rhythms of Nature aligns us with home, with our own North Star within. When we connect and live from that place of perceived non-movement and stillness within, we allow life to move around us instead of us trying to keep up at a frenetic pace.  Let us find Polaris within ourselves and learn to be observers of the chaos instead of participants in it.

Stillness

Stillness

Telescope and the Orion Constellation

I was sitting under a blanket of stars last night. The milder winter temperature made it pleasant. The waxing crescent moon wasn’t too bright, so I could observe stars, and the moon gave enough light to see the gray shadows of rocks and trees.

Crab Nebula

Since playing with a smart telescope begin in December, I’ve learned the art of stillness. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I am learning the art of stillness. Taking an image of a far-away galaxy or nebula takes a while. Sometimes hours…but I’ve only done a 31 minute exposure thus far. There’s so much I want to see out there in the Universe so staying on one object for more than half an hour is challenging.

And I don’t want to go back inside the house while the telescope patiently records the stacks of images. Otherwise I could just rent telescope time from some far-away observatory while I sit in my home drinking hot cocoa and eating scones (as if I could afford that….but people do that…the renting telescope time, not eating scones and drinking hot cocoa). I want the experience of stargazing from underneath the sky, not my roof. The images are part of it, but the experience of awe under night skies…that’s my kick.

I always sense trees I connect with while hiking ‘say’…why are humans always in such a hurry…slow down and listen. I pause and stand with them, but rarely sit and ‘listen’ for more than a few minutes. 

Last night, I realized I was receiving the same message from the stars. So, I set up shots with the telescope, made sure it was working correctly by viewing it on my phone, and then placed my phone down on the ground under the tripod and watched the stars move ever-so-slowly across the sky.

Orion Nebula

Thirty minutes is a long time to sit and observe an image come into being. I’ll be honest, five minutes is a long time if you are used to being active person. Stargazing is helping me learn to slow down and operate from a different speed. 

My assignment is watching the stars move across the sky. Literally. Tracking stars reminds me that even the slowest, almost imperceivable movement is still movement and progress is being made. These experiences help connect me to deep time, that vast expanse of cosmic time, and that helps me move beyond the trappings of the chaos happening now in our world.

My growing edge is to embrace stillness…wherever I find myself. If possible, put my bare feet on the ground and connect directly to Her. Our Mother. Our Home.