Lily's Dreaming Book: December 2010

This month is winding down, yet it feels as though it’s being wound UP – the pace is increasing, the urgency for Christmas is upon us, and a need for a new year seems vital for many people. In our haste, we forget the chilled beauty of late winter, the fresh loveliness of spring, the blossoming summer, and the sweet autumn days. Take a moment to recall some of the better days from the last four seasons. Very soon, a new Winter will be here, and we want to be ready for it. Remembering 2010 is important, as it will be gone soon.

Now is the time to get out your warm coats, winter boots, gloves, hats, and scarves. Be prepared to pay a higher energy bill. Make lots of tea!

I’ve been spending a few minutes each night meditating on the Advent; I bought a $1 booklet of Advent at a local church, and each day there is a new prayer, meditation, and story to keep your spirit in check. Religious or not, Advent is a beautiful way to clear out the negative energies of the day and fill your body and brain with harmony.

For me, the coming New Year is both welcomed and bittersweet. I welcome a new “four seasons” and new school semesters. New hopes and adventures. However, 2010 was the very last year that my dear Tom was alive. He lived seven days into 2010, and 2011 will be the first year of my life that Tom wasn’t alive. I know he’s here spiritually, someplace, but physically he is gone. Life won’t ever be the same, and in that way I do mourn the passing of 2010.

But must we think in terms of years and hours? Shouldn’t life just be one continuous dance? Tom lived, and when he lived or died shouldn’t matter. HE LIVED. WE LIVED and are LIVING NOW. Forget about years, dates, and time. Life is enough.

Soul Remedies

Last night the sky was a burnished shade of dark, dusky pink, with the bare trees in my backyard silhouetted against it. The color and contrast could not be captured on film, and the emotion could never be represented on canvas. It was a glorious, mysterious, meloncholy sky, and it filled my soul with warmth. Nature is truly an artist. More than ever I am thankful for who and where I am.

*~ Remedies for the Soul ~*

Return to Nature

Read Shakespeare

Look at the Stars

Drink Tea

Make Soup

Dance in the Rain and Wind

Write Free-flowing Thoughts

Lay in the grass and Breathe

Breathe

Sit by Candlelight

Write with Quill and Ink

Stroke a Cat's Back

Collapse into Bed and Daydream

Absorb Silence

Gaze at Art

Embrace a Tree

Whisper your Secrets to the Wind

Pay attention to the Details

Forget deadlines for one day

Yoga

Speak words you've never uttered

Stretch your muscles

Allow your Dreams to Carry You

Gently kiss your Lover

Pray

Open your eyes - Wide!

Relax into your Exhaustion

Stitch or Sew something Pretty

Ignore your Demons

Welcome the help of Angels

LIVE DEEPLY

~*~

Love,

Lily

~*~

(Photo from Velvet_Roses95, photobucket)

Signs of Love

Today has been an erratic one, to be certain. Feeling sick was temporarily repaired by hot tea with Jen and Mr. Iverson, and my soul's sleepiness was temporarily nudged awake by the sighting of:

3
Hawks.

Now that might not, in itself, seem very earth-shattering, but for me it really was a moment filled with magic. I heard beautiful bird-cries far above my head, and (my soul and body being very tired today) I heard but did not recognize. On a sudden, it hit me: hawks! I looked up, and what should I see: not one, not two, but three gorgeous hawks flying in slow, meaningful circles around the Humanities building.

I stood in awe as these gorgeous birds cirlced so purposefully around, crying their Phoenix-chant as they flew. There are several reasons why this sighting meant so much to me. First of all, hawks are very sacred birds, magical and holy in many ways and to many people, particularly Native Americans. Secondly, this beauty in the midst of a hectic school day filled my body with peace. Walt Whitman would have been pleased. Last but not least, I only saw one or two hawks in my entire life until I met Mike, whose Spirit Animal is the hawk. Ever since we became close, I've been seeing hawks on my street, in my backyard, outside the mall, and now at school! I went from seeing no hawks to six in one year! I feel like this is further proof of my soul-bond with my darling Michael.

Speaking of darling Michael, today he walked six miles in chilling, wet weather to visit me while I studied at a cafe. Six miles for one-and-a-half hours! Just to see me for the 30 minutes I had left, because I told him how sick I felt. What a beautiful boy. I swear, his presence fills me with such delight and peace! He is a rain shower in a barren desert. A drop of water in a parched body. My essence and breath of living artistry ... inspired by my love.

goodnight or good morning, and may many magical moments come your way today.
~ Lily ~

Autumn's Lullaby 1

*** This was a quick poem written at 3:30 this morning. I'm tired and long for hot tea, some stitching, and a bit of rain. Instead, I wrote this rather nonsensical poem and will turn in. I'm not worried about the uneven rhyme scheme or any technicalities, really. I just needed to write. Forgive any spelling errors: I'm very tired!

Goodnight,
Lily

*~ Autumn's Lullaby 1 ~*

Gray mornings wet with rain ~
sweetly scented apocathary:
ease my pain;
(hot steam
in China glass,
bundle of yarn)
this day too shall pass
but regretfully for I
long for this Autumnal lullaby
to last.
Child's voice in mother's ear
no one else needed - leave us here.
I'll be your witness
I'll be your cathartic plan:
small fingers grasping mother's loving hand.
Ah wait, do you exist yet, dear?
I see you but only in my dreams,
ever-clear.

Chimney smoking
like incense and fog
I wear my heart lightly
like will-o-wisps in the bog:
dancing 'round travelers
weary and old
I open my arms now
to release the Gold
of this dark, dark morning
waiting for light
waiting for someone
to end this night.
Bring out the needles
bring out the cloth
bring out the candle
watch the dance of the moth:
so airy and gentle
he flutters and flies
whilst I sit here sewing
through Autumn's lullaby.

What do my words say
that I stitch through this silk?
A love poem or sonnet?
Keats, Rumi, or Rilke?
No they say nothing
nothing at all
they speak more of silence
and of small dreams grown tall;
they speak of a household
and a child in the womb
they speak of my dreams
of the depth of this tomb
where sadness lies buried
and hope flies around
and swirls through the eddies
of my Soul: this devout
murmur of praise
for the life that we covet:
for the gladness of living
and the sweetness of love.

So this hot tea is easy
on my tired, dry throat;
and this sampler is empty
of words so remote
from the Language of Love
that I just left it white:
the color of innocence,
the Keeper of Light.



~picture from photobucket of msbre26~

~picture from photobucket of wegie4~

Here is the very elegant, very ALIVE moonflower, which (as you will see by the net surrounding it) is highly toxic when consumed. These flowers take a minute or less to open, depending on the amount of water in the soil. Their grace and sheer beauty is stunning to behold. Note the flower as it shutters at the 25th second - real proof of the internal energy that fills all of life, not only humans! Other videos of this miraculous flower are also life-affirmingly lovely, but I think this one has the highest quality of the ones I've found. Each video, however, shows the struggle of the flower as it opens, some unfurling with a slight shiver, and others truly contracting and shuttering as they reveal their scent and petals. Enjoy!

Weather Report

Tonight it is raining in this little corner of Earth ~ and little inspires me more than a good, strong rain. There is enough wind to stir the many chimes hanging on our porch, providing me with Nature's very own music: its sweet song of waterdrops, breezes, and the soothing hush of evening. Temperatures are in the 50s (f), and although this has been a chilly summer, now Autumn has truly raised her glorious head to call - to sing - I'm here!

Walking about my college campus today made me wonder ... what is it about "gray days" that makes so many people cringe?

All I could think of was how beautiful this day would have been had it been crafted into a painting. Imagine: a long-haired woman lying in the wet grass, perhaps in a rain puddle, arms reached towards the sky and hair blowing in the wind. All around her is wet, wet grass, long and green and lush. There is dirt on her dress (we'll imagine that the dress is long, white, and Ophelia-like). Her pale skin is covered with blades of grass, flower petals, and raindrops all set loose by Autumn's quick temper. Does she resist, does she hover beneath a parapluie and wish for Summer? No! This woman not only accepts the stormy day, she thrives in it, encourages it, and truly lives through not escaping ... LIFE.

Just my randomness for the evening ... tell me how the weather is where YOU are, and paint us a picture of someone living in it!

goodnight,
Lily