(I am attempting morning pages, even if it's only a few lines.)
On A Summer's Morning
Something a little more pure. Where the gift is.
The hot humid air bathes me.
I use espresso coffee in my coffee maker; flavourful, earthy.
Free the moment of its burdens.
Find home.
_____
After which I meditated for many hours on what home is, and this continued day after day. It's become a mantra whose sound I follow. Even today watching the leaves catch the morning's rain, remembering filling the hugest flower pot I could find with as many red geraniums as it could fit for the doorstep of my old house and wondering where again I shall be watering such richly red blossoms. I think of Jean, Mary, Tamar, who are all in perhaps similar though different processes on the meaning of home...
And then the Linden tree down the street, filling the road with such gold. I picked up a handful of marigold-yellow seed fluff and placed it in a small pewter-glazed ceramic bowl. The beginning of an alter, it feels like.
But that's another story.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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Morning pages. I have done these from time to time off-blog and it is a powerful exercise. To do them on-blog - I wonder if that would change what I write? I suspect, yes. But it is a fascinating privilege to read yours.
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you for the link, Brenda. Yes, you are right in what you say. At the moment, with dislocation and change looming, my home is the state of staying present wherever I am ...
And please write more about your altar if you feel is appropriate. I have one and I love reading about other people's!
Mary, these lines were from a week ago now, and do you think I've managed anything close to morning pages daily? Sigh. In some ways 100 Days are like our daily pages - it's so much easier to post on our personal interior life there isn't it.
ReplyDeleteI would love to read Morning Pages of yours if you start them again and are willing to post them. I bet they would be amazing.
Yes, I, too, have had alters in one form or another for nearly 30 years now. Awhile ago I did a post on them, including a photo of my last one in Vancouver here. My alter now is an inner alter, and perhaps the spot in the room where I meditate; that's all I've had for nearly a year now. The Linden tree seeds, yes, if I had an alter that would go on it, so perhaps an alter will grow around this little cup of blessings.
Your comments are always warm, kind, emphathetic, honest, revealing and I love it when you come by and leave one of your little word gifts!
Wherever you set up your altar, that is home.
ReplyDelete