Collage as spiritual practice

Over a 6 year period, 

at the beginning of the last decade,

my life as a single working mother of 2 sons 

and as essentially an only child 

caring for a mother with Alzheimer's dementia was, 

as might be expected, 

chaotic;

 except for an hour each Sunday afternoon.

That hour was sacred time.

Surrounded by vintage photographs, scraps of paper

and magazines rescued from Goodwill for .25 a piece,

I would 'process' my week;

praying about situations at work,
in my own life

and the world in general.

I would then work on a collage 

and somehow, 

during the cutting, pasting, writing and

moving images around on the page to create the look I wanted,

my thoughts would be offered up 

and released.

As I was "Swedish death cleaning" the house recently,

I came across the notebooks in which they've been stored.

I spent a few hours, revisiting them and

was surprised by how many of them still felt relevant.

I've got the Blue Girl livin in a Red state blues

She was up to her ass in realities.

Frankly, she preferred a good fantasy.

She knew life would be better
if she could eat cupcakes for breakfast.

She put her needs on a shelf
then forgot where she put them.

She saw clearly what the youngest couldn't;

the future - and it looked grim.

He'd lost his innocence years ago.

His government was wrong.

Terribly, dangerously wrong.

He was an odd duck.

But his gaze pierced her soul with longing.

 

She had lived in her head

for as long as she could remember.

 It took years to stop measuring her steps,

confident in her own dance.

 Wasn't awareness of magical thinking enough?

Did she have to give it up?

Destined to spend much of her life searching

for comfort money can't buy.

 He loved that she truly knew him.

Except when he hated her for it.

She knew that too.

 She'd always heard a hum;

it was her history.

It would never go away.

 Left unspoken,

it was driving a wedge between them.

 She was quick to recognize a downside to this 'servant' thing.

 She chose hope

with eyes wide open to the realities of the world.

 Something beautiful had emerged from the coldness of her childhood.

It was miraculous.

 He had popped into her life when she was resigned to being alone,

awakening old feelings and dreams.

He was a weasel.

Discarded: she knew how it felt.

SO many feelings came flooding back;

along with the 'itch' to re-start the practice.

Sometimes, words weren't even needed.

 Sainthood held no appeal.

A halo was just one more thing to keep clean.

 Surrounded by strange and unique creatures,

she ran the race set before her.

 She thought climbing out of where they imprisoned her

would set her free.

It had only been the beginning.

 She was a sip in a world of big gulps.

~~~~~~~~

Finding your voice takes a lifetime.

So does finding your medium and discipline.

For all the 'disposing' I've done lately,

these feel worth hanging on to.

At least for a while longer.

Sunset works just as well

Almost as soon as we were back in the car 

after our sunrise excursion to the sunflower fields, 

we were talking about coming back next year to see them at sunset.

I dropped my friend off at her house 

with a promise to remember our brilliant idea.

Then I came home and as the day wore on,

listening to the national news,

seeing the death rates from COVID 19 climb in several states, 

I wondered why, in the name of all that's holy,

we would put off to next year something we could do NOW.

How arrogant is that?

The assumption that we'll be unscathed by this virus,

that our health will hold,

that the pleasure and beauty we saw would simply be there again for the taking.

All those thoughts led to another phone call and,

last night,we were in the car,

headed back to the sunflower fields.

In the intervening hours,
there had been several thunderstorms and, 

given the location of the fields, 

we weren't surprised to see that the sunflowers had been impacted.

Many of the heads were drooped and most blooms were past their prime.
Not that their beauty was less impressive, to our eyes.

 Considering that it was still overcast on the drive there,
when the sun popped out as we arrived, we were elated.

 

 There were no egrets -

maybe they're just morning birds.

And then, just because she could,

God decided to show off.

Moral of the story:

don't keep putting things off.

LOVE IT ALL

BECAUSE IT ALL ENDS.

Sunrise with Sunflowers

I can't remember the last time I was up before dawn.

Probably back in my days of being on call 

and having to go into the hospital to notarize an affidavit.

Yet, when a friend and I decided to go see nearby sunflower fields, 

it made total sense that we would try to beat the crowds and the summer heat

by being there as the sun was coming up -

which meant being there by 5:40AM -

which meant getting up at 4
and leaving the house by 4:30AM.

Oddly enough,

it wasn't hard to do.

 I was unprepared for a marsh filled with egrets;

their slim white bodies making a fabulous contrast
to the coarse heavy headed golden sunflowers right next door.

 

There's always got to be one show-off in the group; 

standing heads above the others.

Although we got to see the sun when it first rose,
the forecast called for rain and,
by the time we left,
it was overcast.

Raindrops fell as we were driving home at 7am
which made the morning even more magical.