Rest, Restoration and The Golden Hour

pond scarf hammock faveI took myself on a bit of a wild goose chase. Wild goose chases are exhilarating if they are productive. And I was in need of a wildly curious wondering off into the blue. Off into a land of discovery.

Good health had been mine for a very long time. Rolling along for what seemed like an eternity, I had not been sick. Until I got sick. I am not sure what “under the weather” means or from where it originated. I could go on a wild goose chase and uncover more about this expression.

But where was I. Oh I was sick. So sick. My ordinary became scrambled and my body and soul cried out for rest and restoration. And when one enters the land of blah and stays there for what feels like an eternity, self-pity can creep in.

And that is where perspective-changers come in. You know them. And you have them in your own life. Friends who break through the dark and dank. The dull and gloom. They change your perspective with a word or phrase of encouragement and offer hope on a proverbial silver platter.

I was admittedly wallowing. Feeling less than poetic. Uncreative. And sick and tired of being sick and tired. The sun was coming out on the outside but the insides of my world were deeply entrenched in winter. So as any good self-pitying poet would, I felt pathetically left out of the bright and sunshiny world. And fell into the land where the blah trees grow. My world was blanketed by rest and restoration. Hmmmm, sounds like an enviable, vacation like place in which to linger.

I didn’t see it that way. I saw through the lens of pain and sadness.

A friend sent me a well-timed text, a quote and a word. And I latched on and sped off in pursuit of wild geese. And I  fell in love with the words of J.M. Barrie. She texted me this quote late one afternoon as I lay in my bed, sick and tired. And it was like honey on the back of my throat, and a warm bath drawn for lingering, for soaking a weary soul. It was simply, medicinal.

“You must be warned against letting the golden hours slip by; yes, but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by.” – J.M. Barrie

And then she, my friend, said these words:

“So rest and restore and live to play another day.”

How simply profound. These words found me in a place of soul fatigue. Feeling like I was dormant, passive even and that life was actively passing me by while I was hurting and trying to heal.They revived my weary spirit. And that lead to a bit of a goose chase. (You thought I forgot about the goose chase.)

These words lifted me, gave me hope and I became ravenous, not just hungry for more. So I went in search and found wonderful quote upon quote from the author of Peter Pan. And I accepted and received the implicit permission I was given this particular evening, to rest and restore and prepare for the healing. To sink down into the dormant time of sickness, to lean into a time of rest which would give way to healing. And to save up and expect the beautiful, the wholeness and wellness  to return to my living.

I could see that passion and beauty would return. With the smallest of shifts in my perspective, ushered in on the wings of a friend’s words.

Words are that for me. Agents of healing. Life-affirming and life-giving.

So as I read more of Barrie’s words and reflected on my season of sick and ick, I came to the thought that perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give is the gift of encouragement to one another. And I love the picture of the Golden Hour and its various meanings. (I have been on a goose chase discovering the meanings of this phrase too. More on that soon.)

I have uncovered some words for you. May you be encouraged by his today. And perhaps one day or some day even mine. Because I think I was made to write and encourage. And maybe I got well so I could continue to do both.

For goodness sakes I had a sinus infection, though I felt I was a death’s door, I would clearly recover. But in this time of sickness followed by healing,  I realized even more clearly, as the passion slowly came back: I do desire for my own art to be life-giving, to inspire, to encourage and to whisper a call to see beauty and to shift perspective.

Sometimes it takes a period of pain to regain perspective all over again. To redeclare what our art is called to do. To define more clearly our purpose and our call. Pinpoint how it is we are to use the gifts, well. Not just good. But well. Perhaps very well.

Enjoy these words from J.M. Barrie. And if you need to rest and restore, take care and do. Perhaps we can play another day.

“Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.”

“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.”

“Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight: always try to be a little kinder than necessary?”

pond scarf hammock fave

Thank you for allowing me to bring my words here. May you be encouraged to find the poetry and the beauty that is uniquely in this day.

Joining Lyli, sweet Lyli

Advertisements

In Which I Look For Mid-Week Joy

Some days I catch myself. I stop, take breathes and say, you have become very serious. I give myself permission to laugh, to lighten up, to go looking for the joy that I know already exists. I become a little more intentional about letting go, letting laughter ooze into my pores, relaxing into a belly laugh, deep crows-feet laden smiles, and breathe in pure joy.

Today is Day 9.

31 days button 500x500

I love the visual imagery these  quotes from Ann Lamott bring to my soul-weary self. It gives me permission to loosen up and to rejoice with Creator God. Celebrate that He designed laughter. Acknowledge that joy is deeply healing and necessary. I am going looking in an intentional way for more joy, more humor, more silliness.

Shall we be silly together.

Ready, Set, Go Notice.

Joy is the best make-up.–Ann Lamott

Laughter is carbonated holiness — Ann Lamott

day 9 morning glories

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Close Up Cross Labyrinth

I hope you hear the invitation to follow along via a subscription either in your reader or delivered when I post to your inbox. You may come and go whenever you like, if you choose not to subscribe. There are no rules. Just a warm welcome.

I am also on twitter, facebook and on instagram. Today I shall look for joy and post what I find on my instagram feed. Off to lighten up, to let the tears of laughter roll.

As always, thank you for being here.

Rolling Up My Shirt Sleeves On This Noticing Thing

So today I am digging down a little deeper. Doing some reading and some searching. Putting on my lab coat. And looking for rich and meaty pieces to fold into a post on day 8. Today is day 7. Will you excuse me while I step into my laboratory, my world of words and books and inspiration. I have some goodies for you though that I want to share today. And then won’t you come back tomorrow for some words I’ll be working on for you? If you just popped in here or have missed some posts you can read Days 1-6 here.

31 days button 500x500

I often go down to the shrimp docks with my dogs at dusk, close to sunset. The days are getting shorter. But it is shrimping season and there is a heartbeat there that is palpable. It is as if the docks, the life of the shrimpers changes, though I know their traditions and their routines may seem well established. But for me, I see a different sky, I may smell a variation of the smells wafting in from the salt creek. I love to do my noticing there. There is peace down by the water. It is a bankable peace. When I hop up on my chocolate covered bicycle seat and head that way, I know that my exhale and my inhale will bring quiet in my life storms.

And that today’s blank canvas was a gift. I only need to ask myself, did I participate as an artist in taking what I was given. Did I invest in the canvas with a creative and generous heart. And most importantly, did I make  a beautiful offering back to God, back to my family, back to this world.

My son just called me and asked me “mom, can we have taco’s for dinner.” I notice this is rare, for him to request a meal. I notice that there is some longing in his almost 19 year old soul for me to creatively love him through the comfort of food and sustenance. I hope that I will hear his longing, executive this dinner with creativity and love which at the end of the day says I notice you, I love you and I care for you. And I hope I make some darn good tacos.

Day 7 Noticing Visual

I am a fugitive and a vagabond, a sojourner seeking signs. – Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

So I am off to discover more, read more, and notice more. To fill my art box with tools with which to paint this canvas; I will see you tomorrow on day 8. I am going off now into a place of noticing. Ready, set, go notice. Until we meet again.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Joining Laura Boggess at Laura Boggess dot com.

Quiet, Noticers At Work And At Play

31 days button 500x500

Flung is too harsh a word for the rush of the world. Blown is more like it, but blown by a generous, unending breath.

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim At Tinker Creek

hat on the boat

Intimacy

It was at the end
Or was it the beginning
Blurred are the lines between the two
They left
Parted ways
Rode off into the sunset
By way of the waves
And left us there
He and I
To stare at the ending time of day
Or maybe the start of eveningtide
Quickly the quiet quenched
All that a parched soul
Longed for
Intimacy entangled
And the waves rocked the two
Shed of distraction clothed in the salt
The sea
And all He gave
Creation clothed them in itself

elizabeth w. marshall/writer/poet/noticer

Today is day 5. May your soul rejoice in quiet noticing. The praying mantis on my kitchen window earlier this week was a guidepost. His fragile silhouette, eyes wide open, arms bent with a knowing. He, a  gentle nudge, a subtle reminder to bow in quiet reverence. A mantis  marked my morning with the mention of prayer, a posture of quietly communing. Listen, can you hear the day calling you, inviting you. The art of noticing surely says come play and see. Come as you are and bow and give thanks for the God-beauty slipped into the cracks and crevices of an unfolding day.

The series is here if you’d like to read the earlier parts of this journey. And please hear the invitation to subscribe, follow on twitter and facebook or just show up when you feel lead. You are welcome here. Under the shade of this place is an old wicker rocking chair with pillows piped in cotton ticking. I’m pouring sweet tea with lemon slices and cold water over mountains of crushed ice. I will be here while you go off to notice. But I am going out for awhile to do some searching and seeking, to look and to listen for surprises in my day. They are calling me to come look, like child. And listen with an ear bent for beauty. Ready, set, go notice.

The sea pronounces something over and over, in a hoarse whisper; I cannot quite make it out.

Annie Dillard