#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
What I dream of is an art of balance.”
~ Henri Matisse
For no good reason, except perhaps some overtiredness, I wake a bit grumpy, preoccupied, out of sorts and thinking thoughts that run me in circles. Mind reading, guessing and making up stories about the motives of others, the meaning of their behavior. My head is not a comforting, balanced place to be as I drink my coffee, gather the dogs, head up the dirt road with my walking sticks. Yet, the sky above the trees is true blue; the air has a little chill, a strong breeze is blowing. I wish it would blow some sense into my head. Something is bothering me. It’s nothing new; it’s something that bothers me often when I lapse into my circular thinking about it. I pass my listening tree, notice the ear in the bark that I took a photograph of two days ago. And then I stop myself, spontaneously, with an impulse. Tell the tree. Tell the tree what’s bothering you. And, so I do. This is why I enjoy walking in solitary places. I can follow these impulses unselfconsciously. And so I lean into the tree’s ear and cup my mouth and tell it what I want to get off my chest. It’s not a prayer. It’s not a confession. It’s an unburdening. And then I walk on, we’re heading down, down, down the path now and a flash of insight pops into my head about this issue, like a very clear and simple answer. One statement, so definitive and simple. I am being restored to balance. And on the beach, this is what I notice: all the workers of of stone balancing leaving their wisdom, their art for me to witness. I find so many rocks in balance on the beach this morning. And, I’m grateful for my listening tree, as my balance is restored, and my walk opens into a deep enjoyment, a reverence, a presence. I am here, now, at peace.