Don’t Try This At Home!

You, being both brilliant and compassionate, would never let your 4-footed friend do this! In addition to being tons of fun for dogs, it’s dangerous. (Feel free to email me if you need more information.)

For now, though, just let yourself concentrate on what this might feel like. It’s always reminded me of my very limited experience riding a roller coaster. Exhilarating, to be sure. Also pretty much guaranteed to remind you of a whole lot coming at you, very quickly.

I used to feel just like my canine buddy when I was sitting in a seminary classroom with the amazingly intense biblical scholar, Walter Brueggemann, on a roll. One specific day I remember feeling exactly like this was during a class on Imagination. Ears – well, hair – flying everywhere. Huge grin on my face. And tears in my eyes.

For now, though, let’s go with learning a whole lot of great stuff, at what feels like at least 65 miles an hour. That’s kind of where I am at the moment.

It’s not so much the new perspectives I’m immersed in, though they’re huge.

Instead, it’s more the sensation of the new connections going on inside my heart-brain.

My Legend painting is in a bit of an awkward phase just now and declined to pose for this post. She did give me permission to tell you that, after considerable pondering, she has chosen a title. Tending the Hearth of the World. I’m supposed to say that this will be clearer after a few more days of painting. Probably by Wednesday!

Then there’s the whole notion of something called MetaCognitive Drawing as a tool for massive growth and change work.

The simplest explanation is thinking about thinking while moving a pen. The color is up to you! And you can count on more stories about the magical outcome of such drawings in the weeks to come…

For the moment, though, let’s talk about bridges.

Bridges between a perceived present state and a desired future state. Or, to boil it down, between what feels hard in the moment and what would be better in the future if it didn’t feel hard anymore.

It’s as if some very wise part of us already knows that, if we can find the bridge, we can make the journey to a more spacious sense of life.

I’ve been drawing bridges lately. But, rather like my Legend painting, they’re feeling a bit new and tender for being published just yet.

For today, I have a bridge photo.

IMG_4113-2That’s me. And that’s Shiloh Sophia McCloud, next to me, on the very first day I met her in person, on my very first day in Italy. In retrospect, that bridge we’re standing on feels prophetic to me because Shiloh is, among a great many other magical things,  “coincidentally” the leader of the MetaCognitive Drawing band.

And, not so very far away from that bridge is the courtyard in which Michelangelo carved his magnificent David. I am utterly awed by his work.

I’m even more awed by a quote attributed to the sculptor…

I am still learning. 

Even when our ears are blowing in the wind and our eyes are filled with tears. Or, perhaps, especially!

And one of the things I’m learning is that drawing can be a powerful bridge between the present and our desired future.

So be it for me and for you and, at least to the extent that I get to choose, for all the world. We’ll play, soon!

From Ghoulies & Ghosties..

and long leggetie beasties and things that go BUMP! in the night, good Lord deliver us!

Let me start by saying that I am allergic to bee stings. (Wasps, too, for that matter. Yellow jackets.  Ants. The whole nine yards.) The Epi-pen carrying kind of allergic.

And, for many, many years, I was very, very afraid of the whole crowd known to my biology teacher as Hymenoptera. 

Then, I became a gardener. I began to be very concerned about the growing global crisis of rapidly dying colonies of bees.

I read Braiding Sweetgrass (recently) and The Secret Life of Bees (about six times!) and, slowly, I’ve begun to have a much more vivid appreciation for the pollinators among us.

(Honestly, I haven’t quite worked it out with fire ants, just yet.)

Today, though, I had a close encounter. I was out in the garden, trimming back some rogue grape vines which were attempting to take over the porch and picking some cherry tomatoes.

A bee came to visit me. As instructed by Sue Monk Kidd, I sent her love. I actually thanked her for her presence in my garden and all her hard work.

And then, as she buzzed back to where I’m allowing some of the arugula to bloom, and hopefully re-seed, I took three slow breaths, inhaling deeply of the scent peculiar to tomatoes on a hot summer morning, and went to greet Auntie Maren who is the official chiropractor for the studio angels.

I’m glad to know the ancient Scottish blessing about ghoulies and ghosties. It seems that they abound, in many forms, in our world these days.

I would imagine it has always been so. And there are, indeed, a few lurking in my world just now.

And yet, the one thing I know for sure is that fear is rarely our most effective way to meet them.

Thus, the question for today, courtesy of the wise and ever-amazing Shiloh Sophia McCloud comes from a Zoom meeting yesterday about what I’m learning to call metacognitive drawing, which is kind of like changing things by drawing while thinking about thinking. (Stay tuned!)

What, I’m wondering, are the next steps in allowing creativity to bloom in my life? 

If you don’t have a question of your own for today, I’m happy to lend you mine!

PS… the art today is a snipet from Honey in Your Heart, coming soon to Sue’s Shop!