Tag: The Nester

In Which I Look For Mid-Week Joy

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 3 Comments

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.

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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

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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

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 1 Comment

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.

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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.

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Joining Laura Boggess at Laura Boggess dot com.

Now Is The Time For Noticing

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 3 Comments

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Wishing you a day of cloud gazing, petal counting, flower picking, pumpkin patch bumbling. Backyard grilling, football cheering, page turning, and fireplace burning. Hoping for you a night of sunset staring, and sofa stretching, bicycle riding, and dream making. May you rest, nap, run, walk into a day which holds all that refreshes your parched and weary soul.

May you take notice of the smallest gifts, the tiniest blessings, and the richest moments in this day.

And may you make lots of time for play. Ready set go notice.

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Ya’ll I am so honored, humbled and pleased to have a poem of mine, Tattooed By Grace featured at Burnside Writer’s Collective. It would be a gift to have you follow this link over to Burmside and read my offering. Very excited to be selected to be a poetry contributor there. Wow.
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The series as it unfolds, may be read here. Today is day 6.

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Quiet, Noticers At Work And At Play

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 3 Comments

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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