Evenstar Musings @viveelan - Tumblr Blog

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There's something inherently calming about a cup of tea. Even without ceremony or ritual, pouring hot water into my cup over a tea bag, holding the cup and savoring the warmth and aroma is welcome and serene.

Even at work, when a friend says "why don't you make a cup of tea", it changes my mood and calms me.

#cup of tea #mindfulness andl tea

10/29/2023

I'm in the fall of my life right now, colorful and emboldened, just by surviving. I 've realized that it happens rather slowly, like a secret unfolding slowly, barely perceptible. The leaves become softer, lighter, green fades and jubilant reds, oranges yellow flourish and dance along the branches. They don't fall right away, they pause and linger awhile.

There's a sense of melancholy that accompanies autumn. Perhaps the feeling that the best, vibrant parts of life are over: the anticipatory, naive spring painfully bursting with poignancy and possibility. The bright hot, white hot summer of family, fully ripe with life, activity, and perpetual motion.

The kernel of sagacity here is that the melancholy is not regret or fear of losing something, it is a call to cozy reflection, to sitting and sipping on the quiet, letting go of the loud, wild exuberance that always precedes it.

The colors become much more vivid upon introspection. Meaning becomes clearer. There is a lot more to see after I've let go of the extraneous debris that litters my thoughts.

The trees calling to me, slow down, preen, dance. Now is the time celebrate and let go. Let go of worries, regret, propriety.

I've mostly felt like I've been fumbling through life falling with flair, flying by the seat of my pants. Enjoy the fall.

Evenstar Musings 6/4/2023

The Secret of Life

I know nothing about art. I never studied art. I cannot sketch, draw, or paint. The only painting I knew from my childhood was Christina's World. A print of that painting hung in our hometown library.Somehow, the information about that painting entered my DNA. When as an adult I went to visit my brother and his family in Maine, I knew instantly when he said do you want to go see the Olson House, I knew that he was I talking about the house in the painting. It was such a special moment, visiting that house and seeing the field where Christina was painted and knowing that the powerful Atlantic Ocean broods, breathes and moves behind her.

I came to know Van Gogh through the shameless commercial reproductions taking advantage of his genius and his pain and suffering. It was the movement within the Starry Night painting that mesmerized and magnetized me holding me in it's powerful grasp. It's not only the movement and colors within the painting that's Magic to me, it's also the math, I read an article regarding how the painting demonstrates the math concept of turbulent flows.

The interesting thing is that Julia caught my love and appreciation for art. She fell in love with Cafe Terrace at Night. She always wanted to see Paris.

I never dreamed that I would get to see it in person. I was simply looking to pass the time until Angelina was done. The MOMA seemed like a fun place to do that. When I turned the corner and saw that painting, I burst into tears. I never dreamed that I would get to see it in person. I didn't even know that it lived in the States. I would have thought that it lived in a Museum in Europe or the Netherlands. There it was, in all it's wonderful glory. The colors! The textures! The movement! Honestly, I feel like I've been forever changed just by seeing it in person. The reproductions do not do it justice. They do not come close to the colors and you can't even comprehend the textures.

I have no artistic ability, but I love how light plays and dances with color, shapes and shadows. Suddenly the deep green leaves are streaked with white, or light is dancing on the water like glistening diamonds.

Van Gogh perfectly captured the dancing and play of light and color throughout his world. and mine.

The Guru on the top of the mountain is going to tell you that the purpose of life is to create, find and enjoy art in all it's forms. Be fully present and enjoy those big moments, the little moments and all of the moments in between and then immortalize them with art. Seek out and appreciate art whenever and wherever you can.

Evenstar Musings:

Get Back Monsters

There was love in my house; the typical favorite meals, happy holidays, picture perfect memories. There were also Monsters in my house; not the fluffy, kids closet type monsters, The real evil demons. Hurt and hurting people whose generational trauma's mutated into undiagnosed mental illness and self-medicated raging, deadly alcoholism. In my house being Lutheran was a part of the culture. Lutheran's believe that the Eucharist is both bread and wine and the Body and Blood of the Savior at the same time: in, with and under. Unlike Catholics for whom the bread and wine miraculously becomes the Body and Blood. Don't think about it too much, it's kind of gross. That's the way the monsters were: in, with and under our loving, responsible parents.

Can poems be security, salvation? Can poets, even dead poets, be catalysts to building resilience? Absolutely! My friend, Robert Haas, says that your breathe, heart rate, and feelings were put there by the poet. The lyrical stanzas a comforting, rocking cadence to hold you in a comforting, repetitive, rhythm. Sitting there the chair as the giant, loving father reads Longfellows Hiawatha In his comforting deep baritone. watching the same giant man reduced to a sobbing mess leading Edgar Guest's Little Boy Blue, the poem read at our brother's funeral. My last communication with my father was a poem.

As a teen, it was my own rhymes in which I could hide and process my own traumas.

There are so many poems that are just a part of my genetic code. There will never be a time when poetry is not a part of who I am. I will always seek to find more, learn more and write more. and I will celebrate my National Poetry Month like a maiden serving Sappho.

Deals from Orbit Books

Evenstar Musings 5-8-2021

I watched two tiny birds at the feeder. They were sparrows. I know if I could have held them in my hand they would have felt so soft and light that they would have felt barely there, like holding a moment of time in your hand. They fed a while and then just fell off the feeder. They didn’t jump. They didn’t fly. They just let go and fell. What a cool thing to see! They have no fear of falling. Falling is not a thing to them. Their lightness and their wings carry them gently to the ground.

It got me thinking how cool would it be to live life like that; with no fear of falling. With confidence and a soft light but powerful strength in being. My age has brought me some of that: wisdom gained just from living and the ability not to care about what others think of me.

I only need to be true to myself; to know my abilities and capabilities as the sparrows know theirs.

Prologue:

This story is the actual account of dream I had regarding a conversation with God. I was blessed to be brought up by two faithful people who through their loving example and steadfast teaching and encouragement helped to create for me a life rich with the blessings of salvation and enriched by personal conversations with God.

The Miner

One day as God and I were driving through the beautiful countryside where I find myself living, I was complaining to God about people who seem to take life for granted. Of course, I felt wronged that someone else should be so shallow, when I have also struggled.

God said to me, “If life is such trouble, such a struggle, why do people fight so hard to hold on to it?”

In my foolishly wise way I reply “Because of the blessings."

“What blessings?” God asks.

“Look at the beauty all around. The sky is a constantly changing work of art. The incredible beauty of nature is overwhelming. And that’s nothing compared to the feeling of loving and be loved by family. A kind loving partner, growing children, and loving parents.”

“Well, where are those wonderful blessings?”

“Sometimes, they are right in front of you. Sometime you actually have to make yourself stop and notice, other times you might have to look for them behind the sadness or the trouble. Other times you have to dig them right out, work hard to get them out. Mine them from the struggle or problem or pain.”

Then God inquires of me, “What’s it like to be a miner?”

I remember the stories I’ve heard about my grandfather, a man I can’t remember and yet I’m in awe of him and his life and I can’t wait to see him in heaven.

“A miner comes home filthy and bone tired. Feeling more exhaustion than most people will ever know. Hungry, dirty, every inch of your body aching. Knowing that after getting clean and refreshed you have to go back and do it all over again.” By the time I get to the end of my sentence, a lump forms in my throat and tears fill my eyes, not only for the struggle and sacrifice of my grandfather and all those like him who break their backs to earn a living, but also because the light has dawned and I know what God has been trying to tell me in his gentle and unassuming way.

And God says “sometimes that blessing be it coal or a precious jewel is just one finger of dirt away. “

I realize that for every blessing I dig out of the mine, I’m showered with ten-fold more.

It’s time to go back to the mines.

11-8-2017

Angel slides are the rays of sun that streak out of the clouds. Unassuming, perfect little miracles.

Angelina thought it was the way angels came down and went back up to heaven. Honestly, I didn’t think they were that common. Recently, I have seen them a lot. I can’t help wondering if it’s Julie.

It’s really hard. I know that I’m going through Elizabeth Kubler-Ross stages of grief but in some strange dance where I move up a step and move back two. I seem to be stuck in denial and anger. I just so wish I could tell her how much I love her and how much I miss her.

I should be used to missing her. I will never get used to it. It is nice to think that she is giving me signs that she’s near. Sometimes it’s just too much. Sometimes I can keep the tears at bay and sometimes I’m just sick, in that I feel the tears in my throat all day.

Hell, I should be used to missing all my children and my whole family. That’s an interesting thought, if I can’t get used to the children and my family being away, if I can’t get used to that how I will ever get used to Julia being in heaven.

I guess maybe I won’t. and that’s okay.

Evenstar Musings- 2/2021 Christ on a bike & It all comes back to Rumi

I've been trying to infuse my days with moments of meaning and spirituality. Some days it works better than others.

Honestly, Work doesn't usually feel very Spiritual. you try to always be present, make connections with people, let people know that they are valued. For a while I tried to see Jesus in everyone I interacted with. His DNA at least half of it had to go on. It's not that hard to imagine. I love how my friends and I conjure Jesus into our conversations and lives. It may seem sacrilegious but I honestly hope that Jesus sees it like We do: casually humorous, and deeply personal. It doesn't get any more spiritual than that.

Today I heard the phrase "Christ on a bike! " I know that it was supposed to be an expletive but I hope that Jesus sees the humor in it.

I turned to a book. (Surprise!) I have a beautiful book called Spiritual Literacy: Reading the sacred in everyday Life by Frederic and Many Ann Brussat. It's a beautiful book of small vignettes, poems and moments reflecting presence. I opened the book today to a Rumi poem:

Chickpea to Cook (translated by Coleman Barks)

A chickpea leaps almost over the rim of the pot where it’s being boiled.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’

The cook knocks him down with the ladle.

‘Don’t you try to jump out. You think I’m torturing you. I’m giving you flavor, so you can mix with spices and rice and be the lovely vitality of a human being. Remember when you drank rain in the garden. That was for this.’

Grace first. Sexual pleasure, then a boiling new life begins, and the Friend has something good to eat.

Eventually the chickpea will say to the cook,

‘Boil me some more. Hit me with the skimming spoon. I can’t do this by myself. I’m like an elephant that dreams of gardens back in Hindustan and doesn’t pay attention to his driver. You’re my cook, my driver, my way into existence. I love your cooking.’

The cook says, ‘I was once like you, fresh from the ground. Then I boiled in time, and boiled in the body, two fierce boilings.

My animal soul grew powerful. I controlled it with practices, and boiled some more, and boiled once beyond that, and became your teacher.

I shared the moment with my dearest friends, my confidants and accomplices in this strange, swirling adventure we call life.

I love Rumi. I love Coleman Barks. I turn to Rumi often. I listen to Coleman Barks read Rumi on my Audible regularly. So, it was no surprise that Rumi called to me. I hadn't read this poem before but I loved it. My favorite line? “Boil me some more. Hit me with the skimming spoon”.

Later, I was looking for some document that I needed for work. I found an email conversation that I had kept from some years back. That brief email conversation is full of love, acerbic wit, Soul filling joy and inspiration Kind of like lighter fluid. I love that our conversation, includes references to writing, poets and poetry and while a specific Rumi poem is not mentioned a book of Rumi poetry is. When trying to live a spiritual existence…

It all comes back to Rumi.

#Spirituality #Rumi #musing #poetry

Magic and Miracles

We've been in our new house for a little over a month now. The house is kind and safe. Fear does not live here. Peace lives here with love and joy. The energy here positive and pure.

I was getting ready for work. It was early when the magic started. There was a spot of gold, Fairies' gold, on the bathroom vanity. I was reminded off the story The Woman who Flummoxed the Fairies. You cant keep Fairies' gold for yourself because it will disappear, for fairies gold is like love or a good story better when it's shared. It made me smile. A mirror was responsible for this otherworldly magic but it was too late, the spell was fast and true and hit my heart.

Later we were enjoying our coffee another kind of wonderful magic, when I wandered into the dining room. There was snow in the air. Tiny, minute, infinitesimal, glittery rainbow crystals floating in the air like Fairy dust. It was awe-inspiring, mesmerizing. What glorious magic to begin a normal, busy, same-stuff-different-day, workday. In those precious moments anything was possible and those few moments-not just precious, priceless.

Now, for the Miracle. I regularly go to get threaded. I hate facial hair. I have been going to the same woman for over two years at the Sangertown mall. I don’t even know her name. She is beautiful inside and out. She has a handicapped foot: she limps and she wears a special shoe. I often worry about her on her feet all day The first time I went to her she invited us to Thanksgiving. She is always kind and encouraging. Today she told us when she was little her hair came down below her butt. Her mother took her to have it cut and the man cut it all off. It was devastating. It wasn’t long after that her mother abandoned her. For awhile she lived on the streets. A man took her to use her for his pleasure. Eventually she ended up in an orphanage. Wow, devastating gets a whole new meaning. One day the orphanage had a visitor; Mother Theresa. She said Mother Theresa shone like the sun. She radiated love. This lovely woman had never known love but being in Mother Theresa's presence changed her- filled her with love. She told the sisters she wanted to convert to their religion to be close to their God, the God Mother Theresa loved. The sisters said they couldn’t do that but they released her for adoption. She was adopted and came to the US.

After She finished her story and ripping the superfluous hair from my face at the same time. I stood up and hugged her. I hugged Someone who has been in the presence of Mother Theresa. It's as if I touched her myself!

Honestly, how can I ever be the same? How can I ever be the same? And yet at this very moment- I still don’t even know her name.

11/16/2017 It’s autumn. Actually, it’s late autumn which is interesting because I think I’m in the late autumn of my life and to quote George R. R. Martin-“winter is coming!” I have ambivalent feelings toward autumn. My favorite season is spring. The rest of the seasons I love and hate equally. Autumn is the time when the trees say “Let’s party” and explode into an exuberant celebration of color and confetti and then beckon you into the stark, naked wood. You can see the world from a different perspective. After the leaves are gone and the plants lie dormant, you can see farther and things appear more black and white. Plants go dormant and many animals go to sleep. It’s time to celebrate and get ready for winter. It’s colder-time for sweaters, hot drinks and soup. It gets darker earlier and stays darker longer which doesn’t bother me like it does some people. For me the darkness feels safe and cozy. I love the change in weather, the hint of chill in the wind and the crunch of leaves. I like that my wardrobe changes because even though I love not having to carry a coat in the summer I do get tired of wearing the same clothes over and over. It’s time for a change, darker colors, warmer fabrics cozy coats and sweaters as armour against the cold. I love that it’s time to cozy up by the fire. It’s time to fill the house with warm yummy smells of baking, roasting and mixing lovely things together into soup creating a comforting spell. I’m not so happy about being in the late autumn of my life but it is what it is. I like who I am now. I have grown into my wizened, old self. I’m looking forward to a calmer time. I feel like Stevie Nicks: “Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?” Nothing to do but enjoy.

#winteriscoming #joysoffall

Ulfberht: Take up the Sword

Ulfberht11-6-2017

It’s Monday. Generally, I hate Mondays. It’s grey, rainy and dreary and yet I feel supercharged. I’m ready for Monday. I’m all powerful. I’ve got this. I got up in time to exercise, meditate and get to work on time. It’s a really good feeling to feel all powerful and one that I’m not use to having. So, instead of thinking, “okay, who or what is going to knock me down a peg,” I’m going to try and focus on what is making me feel so exceptional today. I’m going to focus on Ulfberht.

I’m not sure why but I feel extremely connected to the Viking Sword Ulfberht. It’s a mysterious sword of great quality and strength that historians and experts don’t understand. They have no idea if Ulfberht is a family name or “brand”. They have no idea how the people of that time created a sword of this quality. They were sharper, stronger and more flexible than other swords.

Yes. I abhor violence. At my age I understand many things. Struggle and stress are the catalysts that create growth. The goal not just to survive but to thrive and grow. That is what Ulfberht means to me. In addition, it’s shrouded in magic and mystery, a cloak that I would wear.

It was a cold, rainy, dreary Sunday yesterday. We slept in, had coffee, read the paper, did lots of nothing wrapped in the grey coziness of the day. I made soup. I’ve decided that cooking, especially making soup, connects me with my inner witch. There I am stirring my bubbling cauldron, dicing, chopping mixing until I have just the right mix. Manipulating the wonderful vegetables and herbs from the earth and the energy from the beings that contributed the meat into a magical potion. A spell of warmth, nutrition, health and nurturing in a bowl-the best kind of spell.

Then there’s the house. My house. A magical, beautiful place that I can’t believe will actually be mine. The waiting and anticipation is killing me along with the bittersweet thought of leaving our current BEAUTIFUL, cozy, safe home. I sent my brother pictures of my house. He loved it. I was sweetly surprised but it made me exceptionally happy. I value my brother and his opinion. I love everything about the house: the stone, the trees, and the land. I even love the name I’ve given my new home: “Evenstar”. I can’t wait to actually be “in” it!

Our conference was on Saturday. Sometimes it’s really hard to get up and go to work on a Saturday. It was so amazing to see all the people-about 150! Wow! The speaker was inspired and inspiring. It’s easy to get burnt out in our work. It’s easy to feel overworked and feel like there isn’t a lot of reward for the effort we put in. Our speaker was Lisa Murphy. She was a combination of comedienne and early care and learning professor. She related the theories of child development to what children do and to what we need to do. She reiterated everything I focus on in trainings but in a funny, laugh at yourself, this is hysterical yet vital kind of way.

I love it when someone can inspire you, light a fire in your soul, ignite all the energy, positivity and power in your being. Take up the sword, Braveheart-CHARGE Ulfbert! Yes, there will be blood and bruises, I may get knocked off my feet, but damn it, watch out because I’m getting UP!

#WatchoutMonday #Let'sdothis playISlearning #Ulfberht

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