I made a conscious decision to unplug and keep the focus on the inside journey of the soul while attending school at The Abbey in Pecos. But my writing continued in a plethora of notebooks and journals – recording the events of the day as well as how the Spirit (with a capital S) moved among and through us. I’ll be posting more of these as they unwind – falling to form the mosaic that I know God created in me, and all of us as one Body of Christ. Continue reading Minou the Masterful Cat
The rest of the story is that I did. And walk, and draw, and read, and write, and pray and eat. Oh I ate!
Here I am on the top of Prayer Mountain – not my best look, but I was pretty happy up there. Continue reading The Hill Country #4 : The Rest of the Story
There’s nothing like walking up 218 steps, to 1,182′ elevation, to get the blood flowing. As I huffed and puffed and looked around from way up there (I know, I know – not much of an impressive elevation outside of Texas), I said some prayers for a few folks who I know are struggling. After all, it is called Prayer Mountain (as well as Mount Baldy).
But in short order my mind drifted to just looking at the horizons and earth’s blanket of sprouting greens and bush, and I heard a simpler calling to just enjoy the view. This is prayer, and sometimes, like now, appreciation for God’s work and wonder is the best prayer of all.
Hillscapes. Sun. Tea. Books. Birdsongs. And a new location – on the other side of the hill. Quiet. It takes a little time to unwind. I forget that when planning a trip. And sometimes it takes changing our minds and changing our location as we did last night. It was a good move.
Now the breezes come and go, the small manmade waterfall offers her calming rhythm, the hawks glide overhead on rising currents of warming air, and I think about … how much does the soul weigh? Continue reading The Hill Country #2 : Bucking the System
I’m not settled. I could maybe relax if I knew I didn’t have to go somewhere and do what people would do when here – hike, explore, be active in nature. But I just sit.
This porch is nice but I’m finding it difficult to not think about what it would take to own a place like this, or when we leave finding the next B&B to go to and avoid going home. This constant and mostly unconscious need to mentally leave the present for more of what was abandoned in the now is too familiar – like pressing my tongue again and again against the rough edges of a tooth. I can’t seem to stop the circular thinking long enough to lay down pencil and paper for the view, or ignore the droning noise of cars and trucks racing along the nearby blacktop road. I’m flabbergasted at how these sounds echo through the hills and mimic the toll way volumes of Houston. Continue reading Day 1 in Paradise : Like a Bat in the Dark
It’s difficult to remember Trudy today with the lightness of the Spring in which she arrived. It has not been long enough for me to forget the physical torture and emotional languish of her battles with cancer and heart breaks. I also can not dismiss the roles I played in the later – I was a joy and a thorn at times in the life of my sister.
I hope to find and wear today a pin that I gave Trudy one birthday; it’s in the shape of the Earth and has the word F-R-A-G-I-L-E embedded into its metal. Continue reading Trudy’s Birthday – also Earth Day
Seconds before pen hit page… well no, that’s not right. While writing the first sentence… no, that’s not right either. In writing the date at the top of my page, November 3, 2012, I felt the remembrance: not long before Trudy dies, or rather, I sense in this time the echo of her passing. A cavernous queasiness takes hold of my mind and my heart and my soul.
If I must remember an anniversary this morning I prefer to think of the spring tulips planted for Trudy by Grandpa Wyatt at the little house; beneath the small crabapple tree in the center of the drive, just east of the sidewalk that lead to the front door. Continue reading Come Before Winter