.....notice me

Yogis,
This Thursday we celebrate the winter solstice. The shortest day and longest night in the northern hemisphere as the sun drops to her most southern position. To be more precise, the winter solstice occurs on Thursday at 10:27 pm. The moment. A pause. While each day forward will then become an almost imperceptible bit longer, the solstice also ushers in the winter season.

The light and cold arrive hand in hand.

Around here winter has taken her sweet time in approaching, perhaps waiting for the solstice. Yes, we have had an occasional scraping of windshields and even an unexpected wake up to a coating of snow. Dandelions, however, are still surprising me in my gravel driveway with bright cheerful faces and I spent yesterday raking the last falling leaves, wearing only a long sleeve shirt.

The trees know though, even if we question, that winter will indeed set in. They now sit bare.

‘Notice me’, they call as I run to the river. ‘Notice me,’ they whisper as I walk up the driveway. ‘Notice me,’ they say as a posture I take in my practice twists me toward the window. When I do look, it’s almost as if they stand taller, spreading their branches wider to beam. Winter beauty.

Towering over me, my mighty oak reaches toward the blue morning sky. The sycamore spotlighted by the low afternoon sun. A crescent moon peering through the branches of the walnut tree. Sculptures beyond any we may find in our manmade world.

Naked, we can see the intricacy of their branches resembling our own lungs. A crow perched at the top peers down on all of us. A tangled mass of leaves, moss and sticks sits precariously in the crook of the tree. A squirrel’s head emerges just as the sun rises. The cardinal offers an unexpected flash of color in an otherwise brown and gray landscape.

Winter, with its simplicity, asks us to notice. Without the trappings and distractions of summer we can see the trees, our lives and one another more clearly. As we all truly are.

Notice the trees.

Notice me,
SARAH

....leave behind

Yogis,
To determine if the tide is high or low at any given point you can always look for the high tideline. That wavy line that runs along the sand, parallel to the ocean. A subtle divider that separates the darker, wetter sand from the dry. The distance it sits from the current water’s edge indicates where the tide is in her continuous ebb and flow.

The line is also recognizable by the variety of items entwined within it.

The moon’s gravitational pull causes the ocean to gradually move onshore over about a 6-hour window and then draws it back over that same time span. Twice a day. Every day. And every time it leaves different things behind in its wake.

Each morning you find the early risers slowly walking the tideline with heads down, looking for treasures. Whole unbroken shells. Maybe an occasional sand dollar or starfish. Polished sea glass and fragments of coral. Driftwood artfully sculpted by the movement of the waves. Gifts from the ocean. Some tucked into pockets to find new homes on nightstands and counters.

Other times though, what the ocean leaves behind should never have entered her in the first place. Plastic water bottles and baggies. Straws, cans, beach toys or wire. Waste that made its way to the ocean from our homes, roads and even summer picnics on her edge. As she pulls back, she leaves some behind.

Walking the tideline myself this morning, I was thinking how we are no different. We enter every day, like a wave, have an impact and then pull away. We always leave some imprint. What do I leave in the trail behind me?

We can choose to tread lightly and mindfully leaving gifts in our wake each night as we lie our head on the pillow to pull away. Or we can stomp heavily and cause suffering. Through words, actions, purchases or even our thoughts. Those who follow our line the next morning will walk through what we left behind.

I was pondering this while photographing carnations strewn through the tideline (perhaps a marriage proposal?) when an older couple walked by with their dogs. I approached to say hello to their dogs who were eager for attention. As I stood to leave the woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of colored hearts. ‘Take one’, she said. ‘You were nice to my dogs.’

I had a sudden flashback to my sister once telling me a woman gifted her a heart at sunrise.

It’s clear what can be found in this women’s tideline,
SARAH

....thinking of you

Yogis,
Last evening a good friend and I recounted stories from the thirty-three year friendship we have enjoyed. It began at a preschool back to school night for our two-year-olds. Two young moms wearing suits and high heels, rushing in from work to get there on time. Sitting side by side on tiny chairs.

We shared memories of our kids, Caribbean vacations, and the hundreds of hours we sat on hard bleachers watching our boys play soccer… baseball….and basketball. Where does the time go?

She mentioned an amethyst crystal I gave her one holiday season. It now sits in her living room and whenever she sees it, she thinks of me. This is exactly the theme that has been swirling through my mind. Time to put it to paper.

I was cutting bread on a white marble board my cousin gifted me one Christmas. I noticed the image of her that rose as my knife sliced. I like that since I rarely get a chance to see her. I turned to put the knife in the sink and there was a figurine shining her heart energy my way. Another gift which always brings warm memories of the giver.

Walking through the house and yard is like having visits from family and friends.

The persimmons I ate this morning along side energy bread conjure up two friends. My goddess necklace and many of my earrings are quick hellos from afar as I dress. My studio is filled with gifts from students…..a gong, paintings, angels, malas, candles……all adding to the sense of community and warmth we shared together.

The natural sponge I use daily on dishes. Puzzles I have spent hours and hours enjoying, bird feeders and the elephant tapestry which lies beneath every reiki client that comes for healing. I could fill pages.

This weekend the switch turned on for the gifting season. Often our attention is focused on what to give, yet every gift requires two participants. There is the giver but equally important is the receiver. The one who opens to draw in what is being offered. A current. A connection. That is not the end of the cycle though. Each time the receiver sees the gift and remembers the giver, bright energy is sent back their way.  

Gifting is a never-ending circle.

I am thinking of you,
SARAH