Tag: Simone Lipscomb Photography
Creativity

Creativity

By |

Creating something from nothing is an act of magic. It is an act of courage. We move into the realm of possibility when we surrender to the force of creativity.

And it is a force. But what is it that calls us to tap into that force? What moves us from ideas into action?

I imagine a gigantic cauldron of star dust, a cosmic soup, that contains every possible particle of the creative process. I lean over the cauldron and dare to look into its depths and touch the surface with my finger. It ripples and boils with potential and invites me to dip my hands into its richness. I stir that soup of infinity and watch as ideas bubble to the surface. Yes….that! And that! Oh, wow, look at that!With gratitude I enfold the ideas into a medicine bag for safe keeping and journey back to waking consciousness, ready to create.

It’s easy to ignore the creative ideas that enter our minds. It takes courage to follow through and even more courage to share what we create with others. But here’s the thing: the act of creating changes the world for the better, even if we never share it with another soul.

So here’s an invitation to dip into the cosmic soup, lovingly take the ideas that surface and use them to create something simply for the fun of it. When we do this we change the world.

To see more of my creations, please visit my website and explore the BOOKS page, SPIRIT MEDICINE DESIGN page and PHOTOGRAPHY page.

The Magic of Memories

The Magic of Memories

By |

The other day a friend of mine commented how a video on the Fontana Lake Cleanup brought back such good, childhood memories for him. As my canine companion, Buddy, and I walked at Deep Creek today I reflected on my happiest childhood memory.

My immediate family, mom’s sister and her family, grandparents, aunt and uncle and another extended family went to the Smokies together…14 of us in total. One day in particular was amazing. My cousins, brother and I went tubing on Deep Creek. The water was so cold yet I couldn’t bring myself to get out. Our parents were watching from the picnic tables and we were having a big time.

Before my dad got sick and before all of the adulting there was this magical time in the mountains that became my most treasured memory of family.

When I was feeling the pull back to the mountains, I was trying to find a place around Asheville, where I had lived before, or Black Mountain and there was absolutely nothing that worked. My house in Alabama was getting attention but nothing was working out for a sale. For over 18 months I looked and looked and couldn’t believe the dumps with high prices for sale around Asheville. 

So I finally got a contract on my home and had to find a place. As I drove past the sign for Dillsboro, Sylva and Cherokee on my way to Asheville, I heard a question: Where did you always want to live as a child? But I was worried that living an hour away from Asheville would be difficult and too scary to start over…again…far from everyone I knew. But as it happened, a cousin saw my social media post about looking once again in the Asheville area for a home and he said, You gotta meet our cousin in Sylva. And in the end, it was that question I heard that opened my mind to hearing what my Sylva cousin had to say about the area.

Yesterday I sat at the dining table in my little cabin and gazed out at the mountain ridge of the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. I live here, I said aloud. My childhood dream realized. Eight miles via the back way into the Deep Creek area from my door…that’s how close I live to my happiest childhood memory.

It’s hard to always know what calls us to certain places. But this time around, I felt I owed it to myself to align with the happiest place I remembered. My love for the area grows as I celebrate my one year anniversary here in five days. There are other reasons I’m here and I’ll share those in another blog, but for today I’m smiling at those treasured, magical memories. 
What if…we save ourselves

What if…we save ourselves

By |

What if the Second Coming is within our own hearts. What if the trumpets we hear awaken us to do the work of the heart. What if the master Jesus gave us everything we needed to awaken consciously and now it’s up to us to awaken to those teachings of compassion and love. 

I suspect as a race of beings we have gone as far down as we can go in the evolution of consciousness and there is no need to list our faults. Look around. See the destruction, lack of empathy, lack of compassion and greed and desire for more material ‘things’ at any cost. 

Yet….we also have an amazing capacity for selfless action, love, care, compassion. So we know absolutely it is within our reach to embody what was taught by the master Jesus.

No president or government will save us. The change we seek is deep within each of us. No exception. It is time to stop screaming and pointing fingers and do the hard work of self-transformation….that is if we actually want to change.

It’s time to put our egos on the altar of sacrifice, to release judgment of others and embody the change we wish to know in our communities, in our nation.

We were given the keys to the kingdom. Let us not squander that amazing gift.

What if we save ourselves.
the simple things

the simple things

By |

When life is finished for each of us I predict the simple things will be what we treasure. The time the sunrise was pink and lavender; the morning the clouds were cotton candy pink; the time the spotted dolphin brought her baby up to me and used sonar to vibrate my headache away; the humpback whale that did yoga with me before sunrise 90 miles off the coast of the Dominican Republic; the moment I held my daughter for the first time; that time I lived through what I thought I couldn’t.

I wonder why we tend to make life much more complicated than it needs to be. Why we accumulate ‘stuff’ and work so hard to get more when the accumulated ‘stuff’ isn’t what builds the real foundation of a full and amazing life. At least it isn’t for me.

The bull elk stood and made eye contact with me…or was it the cow in the meadow? It doesn’t matter….all I know is how my heart felt when we were face-to-face.

That time the manatee rolled and farted…who could forget that? I snorted so much water in my flooded mask from laughing and this dead-pan ‘little’ friend just carried on gazing into his own beautiful reflection in my dome port. Now that’s a good memory.

The accumulation of stuff requires so much energy that there’s little left over to actually enjoy life.

The investment I’ve made has been more in travel and exploring. My grandfather told me a couple years before he died that his one regret was not traveling when he and my grandmother were healthy enough to go. So I took his advice to heart and used money he gifted me through his death to travel to many places. That has brought joy and filled my heart with gratitude.

I remember sitting at a burial tomb in Ireland with nobody else around because it started raining. I sat there and played a newly-purchased Irish low whistle with gratitude to the ancestors. I witnessed clouds roll around the small area and the storm parted as if in response to my acknowledgment. I won’t ever forget that.

It was worth arising long before sunrise to drive to an overlook in the Smoky Mountain National Park to witness pink and lavender skies. As I invest in connecting with Nature with my heart and whole self I find richness filling my life in ways a fat bank account never could. It’s really that simple for me.