All posts by Kaye

May 2011 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , ,

Ode to the Weed

I’ve taken xeriscaping to the next level: zeroscaping! The practice is due partly to my finding lawn work only mildly preferable to being staked out in the desert and consumed by ants, and partly to my rebellion against The Man determining that grass is a more suitable ground cover than, say, dandelions.

In my view, the dandelion has a great deal to offer. Dandelion clocks—what a delicious name!—look like bubbles on stems. Pick one, blow on it, and send its downy parachutes riding the wind. Dandelion flowers, their color warmer than sunshine, homier than butter, bounce on their stems, smiling up at us. What welcoming flowers! And, if they can escape being “pesticided,” the leaves are edible. And we need never sod, because hearty dandelions find a home wherever they land: in cement cracks, in arid soil, even riding in the beds of trucks! In all seasons, in all landscapes, the dandelion offers herself for our delight.

In May, let’s delight in what we find delightful. Take pleasure in what is. Maybe to blow on some dandelion clocks and watch with wonder as their tiny parachutes ride the wind. What delights you?

April 2011 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , ,

Getting Hit

Thanks to the ingenuity of a neighbor, at this time of the year our community receives “hits” from the Mafia Bunny. A few volunteers begin the “hits” by filling baskets with goodies and, when no one is looking, depositing them on the doorsteps of unsuspecting neighbors. Those neighbors tie yellow ribbons on their doors to signify that they’ve been hit, then refill the baskets with goodies of their choice, and “hit” other unsuspecting neighbors.

Two years ago, Easter was a hard season in our home: unemployment, illness, and broken hopes had pretty thoroughly vanquished us. We awoke one morning, opened our door, and found ourselves “hit.” I watched my husband’s eyes light up and I felt a resonant light in my own. That basket was much more than the trinkets nestled inside its cellophane grass. For us, it was a basket full of hope.

What if, as our spiritual practice this month, we “hit” some unsuspecting persons with gifts of hope? It could be a handmade card or some home-baked bread, or a bottle of water for a guy standing in the heat. And if we can do it on the sly—get away with our “hit” unseen and unsuspected—so much the better!

Have you experienced being “hit by hope?” We’d love to hear about it!

 

March 2011 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , ,

The Power of Apology

When I was a kid, my dad apologized to me. I don’t remember what he did that prompted the apology, only what that act meant to me. I suddenly knew myself as someone who mattered: someone who mattered to my dad, who mattered as a full-fledged human being.

Making a sincere apology requires incredible strength of soul. It’s much easier to buy people off with praise or presents. I may find myself forgiven even if I never apologize, though I may not again be trusted. Actions that are not owned are, after all, more easily repeated. Conversely, a sincere apology can deepen not only the recipient’s self regard, but also my relationship with the recipient.

What are your experiences of apology—either giving or receiving one? Did the apology alter the relationship? If so, how?

February 2011 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , ,

Am I Creative?

A grandfather watches patiently as his granddaughter lifts fallen cedar bark into the nooks of two cedar trees: places the bark, steps back, places another strip of bark, steps back, studies her creation, rearranges it. For the child, this moment is All.

In his yard, another child hoists curved PVC pipe to his lips and exhales, creating a poignant, otherworldly tone. Exhaling, he moves the tone up and down the scale, absorbed in the magic he is creating.

These children never ask themselves, “Am I creative?” They might as well ask, “Does my heart beat?” “Do my lungs exchange carbon dioxide for oxygen?” They are, naturally, creative. We all are.

We express our creativity every day:

  • in how we guide children through the rough waters of human growth;
  • in the charts or graphs we prepare to communicate concepts;
  • in the ways we adorn our living space or our bodies;
  • in handmade gifts we create, from a PB & J sandwich to a CD mix of special tunes; and
  • in the ways we show love for other creations/creators, to name just a few.

How do you express your natural creativity? We’d like to know!

January 2011 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , ,

Personal Mandalas

According to Joseph Campbell, every world religion employs the circle as a metaphor. Inspired by the mandala-making practice of the Tibetan monks, we began the new year by creating personal mandalas. We kept our guidelines simple, so each person could follow the leanings of her soul ( “soul” understood as the whole of us: our total being).

Personal Mandala Guidelines:

  1. Employ a circle to depict your soul; you might include your values and how you hope to live into them, and/or how you embody the physical elements, and/or how you see yourself connected to all that is;
  2. employ symmetry in your design; and
  3. employ symbols, feeling free to create your own. You may wish to choose a visual metaphor for your soul and place it in the very center of the circle. What describes you?

To begin, we viewed mandalas from a number of traditions (found on an Internet image search) and then set about creating our own, using a variety of arts materials: a practice that I expect will take at least the entire month. I’m finding mandala making a challenge that I both dread and anticipate.

Wish to create a personal mandala as your new year’s practice? If so, we would love to see it! Share your mandala (and a description of it, if you’d like).

December 2010 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , ,

Tuning In

As I slid into a fast-food restaurant booth to do my daily writing, the intro to “I Love You Just the Way You Are” sifted down to me from the overhead speakers. I paused, drank in the melody, the lyrics, the way Billy Joel’s voice crooned “don’t go changing” and then intensified to sing of “unspoken passion.” The music first claimed me, then began to work transformative magic in my dry and weary soul. It opened me to a reality within my daily reality: to a world deep and true and hopeful.

This month we can gift ourselves simply by tuning in and attending to the magical alchemy of music: to guitar riffs and violin solos, to heavy backbeats and to airy melodies, to major chords and to minor. We can treat ourselves as we ride or drive, as we vacuum or launder, even as we (shudder) shop.

What’s your experience of music? What kinds of music do you enjoy? Why?

November 2010 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , , , ,

Living in Sept. 12

Looking toward Thanksgiving has me gazing backward to our family worship time the weekend of Sept. 11. We folded paper into thirds so that it opened like the Isenheim Altarpiece (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isenheim_Altarpiece). On the outside we depicted events from history, from around the world, and from personal experience that carried elements of Sept. 11, 2001: the hatred, the terror, the violence, as well as the dignity, the valor, the mythic heroism. Inside the paper altarpiece, we depicted our choice to live in a Sept. 12 world: first acknowledging the truth of Sept. 11 (as well as other events and experiences that rock us to the core), then choosing to live the next day and the next . . . in hope.

What practices would belong to your Sept. 12 world? What, for you, is hope? How important is hope in your life?

October 2010 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , ,

Touch

The past couple of decades have placed needful emphasis on “bad touch”: touch employed to objectify, demean, abuse, or in any way other way, disrespect another. Knowing how another is not allowed to touch us empowers; it gives us permission to value ourselves enough to say “no!”

Recent references to healing and therapeutic touch, remind me that “good touch” is needful for healthy human functioning. Babies who do not receive loving touch fail to thrive. As this month’s spiritual practice, I am attending to good touch: touch that expresses affection, regard, respect, and love:

  • the weight of a dog’s head in my lap;
  • a child’s hand slipped trustingly into mine;
  • the rare Saturday when my husband and I can lie in bed and hold one another;
  • a ladybug alighting on my arm;
  • hugs from family and friends; and
  • the wind turning my hair into a whirligig.

What is the importance of good touch in your life? What kind of touch feels to you like affection…regard…respect…love?

September 2010 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , ,

Saying Goodbye

It happens when we leave a job or a relationship ends or, for any reason, our souls say “time to change.” We sort through the “stuff” of our former seasons, deciding what is detritus and what belongs to the coming season. I also keep a drawer of “in-between” things (trash or treasure?) that my internal jury’s still out on.

How do you say goodbye? How do you clear a space for what might be?

August 2010 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , ,

Messiness & Chaos

Thursday of creativity camp week is Messy Art Day—I figure after three days of creative concentration, it’s time for a break. We head outside for ice sculpting (otherwise known as hacking away at large ice blocks with butter knives, then running relays with those blocks held against the belly as some sort of endurance ritual), marble painting (otherwise known as drenching marbles in paint, plopping them onto a sheet of paper in large box and, by tilting the box this way and that, sending the marbles careening across the page, leaving tracks of clean and muddy color in their wake), and shaving-cream painting (which starts as shaving cream and powdered tempera on old cookie sheets and ends up with campers as their own foamy and colorful artworks).

Sitting in the sweltering heat, watching it all, I am reminded of the need for chaos in the creative process. Indeed, the word “process” hardly seems, in such times, to fit; there appears to be no direction at all. We are simply being one with our mess!

Messy Art Day ends with a garden hose baptism. We traipse inside, shimmering with water, dripping on the floor, shivering, and grinning from ear to ear.

—And it is good!

What are your experiences of chaos and process?