An Expansion of the Soul....

"When I admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, my soul expands in worship of the Creator.”
Ghandi

Yesterday started off on the wrong foot.

I'd hurt my back overdoing again

and

so I had not been able to work out for a few days.

I seem to always be more on edge when I can't 

get the energy out through sweat.

My work day was a disaster

and

I came home with absolutely nothing left in my body or mind.

Off color daughter, Big Daddy and I decided to take a walk.

Off color daughter and Big Daddy worked together to try to make me feel guilty about 

inviting the other....it seems they want me all to themselves.

I find it funny

that they fight over my attention---I think they do it to make me feel loved.  

They even argued over 

me inviting both of them at different times to 

section hike the
Appalachian trail with me (I asked off color son, but he said "hiking is not my thing" --doesn't involve sports or girls).  

Off color son said that he'd be the drop off person and pick up person as we hike.  

He'd said he'd party and invite girls to the hotel while he waited....ha! ha!.

So off color daughter and Big Daddy were bickering 

about who was invited first and I walked.

I thought about my no good very bad day

and

as my feet moved,

it all began to fade.

Just as it almost came back,

they came....

"Larry, Moe and Curly"

flying over me in 

circles,

quacking and singing and arguing.

They circled and dived and changed places 

and

I stood

staring in at the sky...

and 

suddenly

in the midst of 

big daddy-off color daughter jabber,

in the midst of cool breeze

and

quacking ducks

and 

panting barking Cecil--devil dog from the gates of hell,

IT happened...

IT came...

and

the pavement became for just a moment

:ground of Holy Encounter:

:sacredness mixed all among the rest:

and

my soul

my weary soul

stood still

as it was bathed in 

Healing,
soothing Balm.

As quickly as it happened,

I returned...

returned to my walk,

to my view of the sky...

to my "little corner of the world"

thankful

for 

just a fragment of a moment,

when the 

HOLY TRINITY

in the form of

:Larry Moe and curly:

graced my sight

and

invited 

me

to 

be.....

thankful

for 

a micro minute of worship

in 

a different kind of way.

May each of you

have a sighting today

of 

the 

HOLY 

and

have a moment 

of 

soul expansion as well.

Happy Friday...........

hugs...

Sitting Memories....

“Middle age is when you're sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you!”

Ogden Nash

I grew up in the South, in a little tiny rural town that had and still has a flashing red light at a four way stop, a railroad track running down the middle of main street, a couple of gas stations and more churches than you can count on your fingers.

We lived on the outskirts of town in an area

the locals called, "bean bottom."  I don't know why they called it that but rumor has it at some point the whole area was covered in beans.   As I got in high school we moved closer to the outskirts of the little town, but for most of my childhood, I lived in front of a train track that ran past our home.  My grandfather, known as Little pa, lived on one side of the small house my daddy built and my great grandparents, fatma and fatpa, lived on the other side of us with their large homegrown garden with a tiny path running from our house to theirs along side it, sitting in-between.  The grass was most often worn down on the path from the numerous times a day, my sister, brother and I traveled to Fatma's and Fatpa's.

Life was simple then.  Seems spring always brings me back to memories of flowers blooming, the smell of sweet honey suckle  mixing with the smell of freshly cut grass and cool breeze whipping through my hair.  It invites me to remember the slow days of childhood when often a day seemed like a year and in my child-like over developed imagination kind of way, I could move from being a queen on my throne to a cook in the the kitchen making mud pies, to some adventure seeking pirate climbing trees or astronaut swinging to the sky on my tree swing. 

 The landscape and the slow pace--coupled with the fact that our area of town only had good TV reception for the three channels available in the evening if you sat just right and held your mouth just right made playing outside and reading more appealing than the "world turns or guiding light" that my mama and fatma watched. 

Some of my favorite memories were sitting in chairs on my fatma's porch every afternoon.

Fatma would read the local paper from front to back. Fatpa would just listen and look out at the yard pretending like he was listenening to her commenting on what she was reading.  It seems the obituaries were often the most fascinating to her and it would not be uncommon to hear about the person's long lost cousin who married so-and-so's brother and moved down the hollar to so and so spark from the name of the person whose name might be listed in the obits.

I loved sitting there on the old porch, listening and talking and taking adventures inside Fatma's story telling tales.

We'd snap green beans while sitting or shuck freshly pulled corn and all the while, fatma would talk, telling me tales of

her mama and daddy and life back in the early 1900's. 

Sometimes we'd just laugh and joke.

Other times, we'd have one of those long winded "Sunday school" lessons about church and God and loving your neighbor and if we were real lucky--or not---Fatma would start to sing one of those fast paced church hymns in her southern twanged nasally way.

Sitting...

just taking time to sit and talk and think and be....

I miss those days,

miss my fatma,

miss the feel of cold iron from the chairs on the back of my short clad naked legs, miss the feel of paint chipped paint of chairs mixed with rust and miss the breeze that blew from the tall hickory tree next to the front porch.

Life was easy then.

Sitting easy...

The other day, while driving through a small farm town,

I spotted these chairs dotted up against a building.

I couldn't resist stopping for a bit,

touching them and taking a picture

and

having a moment...

to remember...

sitting kind of days...

sitting kind of memories...

sitting...

thankful for the flood

of

reflections of the past...

and thankful

for

a chance to sit.

May each of you

have a moment...

to clear your head,

stop for a moment,

smell the flowers and feel the breeze and

allow

the sacred to grab hold of the moment

and

invite you

to breath.

blessings to all of you tonight......

Life's Rhythm...

Resurrection energy inside
Something that I can't define
Mystery - I leave my fears behind
Something that seems so divine
Over and over again
In The rhythm of life.

freedom call "rhythm of life"

The beat

it goes on

leading me toward

some unknown place

to where I've been before but never quite seen.

my feet move forward

and

the sun,

the sun

she pulls me,

heat illuminates from above and within,

causing

something mystical

to rise up,

from a seed

that has been hibernating from the depth of my heart space.

I don't understand it,

can't even begin to describe IT...

but

IT

IT's beat,

It's silent sound,

pulls me along

and

like a magnet moves me toward something magical and divine

and

all

I seem to be able to do

is

walk forward,

one foot after another,

the whirling in my mind eases,

the constant chatter of

what ifs, what will be,

what am I

who am i

suddenly

calms

.....

silence

sweet silence

comes forward

as

a

prayer

with no words

and

I give into IT...

surrender if you will

to

the fact

that

the Drummer who plays my beat

is bigger

better

and

 a highly skilled musician, who is so much better than me

 and

who knows the right rhythm

the right beat to awaken

me from my

complacency.

The sound rises

from deep inside my heart spaces,

pushes

and

pulls me forward

down the long curvy labyrinth of time

and

there

I meet

the

Mystical

divinity

of

Life

I 

continue on

realizing

that

it does go on...

life that is...

sun rises,

sun sets,

rain falls,

fills rivers and puddles and flows into oceans,

sun shines

rainbows come after the storm

and

the rhythm of life

continues

over

and

over

and

over again.

thankful for a weekend filled with

sunshine,

cool breeze,

smell of freshly cut grass and the sweet fragrnace of varied blooms from trees...

thankful for a moment

of

silence in my head...

thankful for

a moment

of sacred

encounter...during an ordinary walk...

Happy Monday...

where ever you walk...

whatever you feel...

just keep walking

and

listen to

the beat of your heart

as it is played by the Master Musician.

blessings

and hugs....