It Never Grows Old: Come Notice With Me – A Journey into Discovering More Beauty, Awe and Wonder

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Dear Ones,

I’m writing from a quieter place—one from which I will soon pivot—re-entering the world of more noise, more chatter, and less stillness. This quieter season of Lent has been life-giving and restorative. It has filled me up in ways I didn’t know I know I needed filling and in places I didn’t realize were empty.

After Easter everything changes. Literally. Because of the Resurrection. And this Easter season, I feel a shifting in ways which feel even a bit more significant. That come from a change in my consumption of social media.

During this particular season of Lent, I have lived in a somewhat quieter space, in part because of a social media break— which, if anyone were to ask, will come highly recommended.

I am both ready for and not quite ready for the celebration of Easter Sunday. All that it brings, all that it means. I look forward to Easter Monday—through a lens of hope and joy— to the Gift and the gifts, waiting on the other side.

I’m eager to reconnect with people in that place called Instagram, a place that holds relationships with real people with real lives. People I know and care about and care for. People I have missed. People that inspire me and bless me. People that know me and who encourage me. And people that I hope are encouraged by the message I wrap in my Instagram posts.

My plan is to drill down, dig in & write more about what I have discovered to be an important sacred rhythm or social media resting. As a slow processor, I am still processing what I have learned and discerned from this Instagram fast. But for now I’ll be looking for ways to take regular social media breaks and fasts and to the restoration and shifts in focus that time away brings.

Time away gives us repackaged time for other  things. Time away frees up time to be more present in our moment s and more available to truly notice. Time off of social media gives us more time to be fully in and on in our one real life.

After a hiatus last Wednesday in my weekly podcasting schedule, I am back with a new episode of Peabiddies Podcast: Pursue the Art of Noticing.

I hope you will take a listen. Perhaps you will even forward it on to a friend. That is one of the sweetest compliments a writer or podcaster can receive—sharing is high praise. It means there was something of value that you as the listener wanted to pass on to others.

Perhaps you will consider leaving a review on your preferred listening platform. Those reviews matter. And they help others find us in the increasingly big wide world of podcasting.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for answering yes to the invitation to come with me on this journey—a journey of noticing and becoming more attentive to all that we have been given by the Giver. The Creator. The Artist God.

May you be filled with Easter joy and sing loud Alleluia’s of praise. I cannot stop thinking of the love, the gift, the sacrifice that the Resurrection is and will always be. Forever and ever. Amen.

Joy to you this Easter…

Easter Blessings in Him,

elizabeth wynne marshall

Join me on Instagram @elizabethwynnemarshall where, beginning the Monday after Easter, I  will be microblogging and sharing what I am noticing  with images paired with words. I hope to see you there.

Peabiddies: Pursue the Art of Noticing

Episode 14 – Season 2 Easter Week: Words for you, Practical Steps for Noticing and A Prayer for Noticing https://anchor.fm/elizabethwmarshall/episodes/Episode-14—Season-2-Easter-Week-Words-for-you–Practical-Steps-for-Noticing–An-Easter-Blessing–A-Prayer-for-Noticing-e3mvo8

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I Have a Question for You: Pursue the Art of Noticing – Peabiddies Podcast

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In a few hours I will be heading off to begin the first leg of a journey—one that will take me to Our Lady of the Pines, a retreat center in Ohio. This lovely place will be home for me for four days as I attend Refine the Retreat. Last year when I attended, I hoped and prayed for an opportunity to return. And so I do. I’m headed into the pines for the second time as a retreat attendee.

I’ve been waiting for months for this opportunity to gather with 40 or so other artists, many of whom are writers. My hope is to carve out time for fellowship, rest, restoration, regeneration, and for filling back up the well of creativity by listening closely to God’s whispers and to seeking inspiration within the walls of this sacred place—as well as among the winding paths of the prayer labyrinths.

The retreat falls during the quieter more contemplative season of Lent. I’m grateful for what feels like perfect timing for carved out time and space, space set aside for sacred reflection. My hope is to seek respite and rest, paired with creative discussions on faith and art to equip me to come back to this space to offer refinement and renewal reflected in my own work with words.

Until next week.

peace and grace,

Elizabeth

Consider subscribing to Peabiddies Notebook: Pursue the Art of Noticing, my weekly subscriber only newsletter. Click here to sign up

(Click to listen to this episode of my podcast, Peabiddies: Pursue the Art of Noticing, Season Two – Episode 8) https://anchor.fm/elizabethwmarshall/episodes/Season-Two—Episode-8-e38plk

When You’re Not Done With January

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When You’re Not Done With January

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It might just be the tortoise in me. That preference to move slowly—to process slowly, to act and re-act at the pace of sub-normal. January appears to be trying her best to leave me in the dust. She is plowing ahead and building up steam, finding steam in the gray matter she makes her hallmark. Her trademark color of sky and air. Moving forward with the confidence of a triathlete on steroids. While I haven’t chosen my 2019 leather day-planner calendar thing yet. (Decision fatigue has followed me into the new year.) She delights in clean slates and fresh starts and new beginnings which she parades in front of me like a braggadocios half marathoner with a proclamation sticker adhered boldly and proudly on her mini-van bumper.

And. yet for all of this January this and January that — I have grown to love her. And for the first time in my nearly 60 years I am begging her to stay, to linger here awhile.

I find her enthusiasm contagious. Let’s go she says, into the fog of the unknown. Let’s run, she says, it’s all downhill from here. Let’s start again, she promises, she flirts, she calls me to the land of new mercies.

And then she leaves.

She disappears into the month that ends with a thump on the 28th day. She leaves me alone just as I believe I may have found my stride. She disappears into the fog of snow and ice, a thaw and even a hint of spring. It’s as if she finds the whole month a game of hide and seek. Of go and stop.

But she is my muse. I find her inspiring and a companion on the days that darken in a snap. I find her filled with promise that is usually attributed to springtime.

But whether or not I am ready to say goodbye, like many things I have grown to love, slowly, over time, on the back end of the curve — I must say goodbye to January in a matter of days.

Yet I will fold her promises of new beginnings, press them into my flesh.
I will hold her contagious enthusiasm for the blank page which says “what if,” written in January’s magic disappearing ink.

And I will say, not “goodbye” but “see you soon.”

Because though I have not allowed her to be the pace setter she has tried to be, I have learned to make my way. Like a January storm that muffles the world, she has both quieted me and energized me. She has brought me the gift of a new day again and again.

And she has mercifully shown me that the way to go is forward, always, into the fog of uncertainty. Into the haze of gray waiting for the clouds to pass. Into the day after and the day after that—with a January hopefulness that is nestled into the crunchy crust of frozen ground and muted skies.

Because just as I will not say goodbye to January, January will not speak goodbye to me. And we will silently go into the month that says, 28 days is enough for anyone who learns to love a day well.
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Join me each week for new posts here—both poetry and prose. Sign up to receive new posts in your inbox. (I’m fairly quiet in a January sort of way, I try not to bang around and make a lot of noise when I slip into your inbox with my words. 

I hope you’ll join me every Wednesday for new episodes of my podcast, Peabiddies Podcast- Pursue the Art of Noticing. It is available on a dozen or more listening platforms. Click the tab on the home page here to listen in or click here to listen inhttps://elizabethwmarshall.com/peabiddies-podcast-pursue-the-art-of-noticing/

I hope you’ll follow along on Instagram @elizabethwynnemarshall where I post daily on my Instagram feed and in my Instagram stories. I would love to see you there.