Tag Archives: Acey

20 Rectification

What force, what power, might be ushered in to rectify the damage of old limiting beliefs?*

At first I thought: movement, dynamism, light. Wheels and lightening.

But this is what came and it interests me more than the elemental first take. Here I find: mentorship, a path laid out by others, ritual. We see the moment BEFORE flight. A controlled relationship with a wild and fierce creature of the sky is depicted. There is wonder and delight. Mystery.

I am the student and the teacher. I am the raptor and the tether-holder. I am the arms and the wings uplifted as well as the stones lying flat, secured by grass roots and gravel.

Perhaps even the tether and raptor hood (not shown) are part of becoming free? If used in service of flight? In service of relationship to that which is wild?

Who is the hooded figure in the lower left and what’s with that ball of light? What did the boy do to invite it in? (It’s the sun setting over Assisi, double exposed, but still… )

I take my collage to mean getting unstuck and banishing my lack of faith with support, with tried and true tools, by putting one foot after another on a traveled path.

Writing a novel is like going out to sea, alone. I think Natalie Goldberg said that.

So the idea of walking a well-tended path, where help shows up now and then is revolutionary.

Below are a few digital responses. My printer isn’t cooperating, so they may not make it to glue and page.

I just turned off Jay Sekulow. There is only so much I can take (hood?)

Prompt #20 in full:

Let’s suppose a thought held by many has been powerful enough to jettison The Occupant once and for all. Why stop there? Why not just assume that for the duration of responding to this prompt you’re Empress of Everything.

What will you usher in to begin to rectify the damage incurred by the agent of destruction you’ve banished?

*

Acey’s Collage Month.

See also my Flickr album. SoulCollage and the tags here on the blog

What gets in the way?

It’s a good thing there are only 11 days left to Acey’s Collage Month* because it’s been so consuming! Consuming in a very good way, but consuming.

The next prompt: What gets in my way?

DOUBT is what first came to mind but I went with what came second to mind: LACK OF FAITH.

In particular: lack of faith in personal good outcomes. A train wreck is one of those things: ordinary and yet tragic. It could happen to anyone on their way to work. But it’s also rare, so why assume it’s only a matter of time until I’m sent off the rails?

In the second image, strips of a woodland creek scene butt up against photos of the disaster, as if the trees and water were complicit or at least, failing to offer protection.

Sorry for the glare here but the day is demanding that I move on.

A big thanks to LIZ, of the blog I’m Going to Texas, for sending me a big pot of YES paste. It’s sticky to the hands but so much more effective than what I was using. Thank you!

*

Acey’s Collage Month.

See also my Flickr album. SoulCollage and the tags here on the blog

Also, here’s a little minute plus that I made last night.

Scissors to cut and to edit

Prompt #17*

Consider something extremely literal and mundane that’s central to your life and sense of well-being. How could you exalt this subject in a way that expresses its internalized value to you?

Scissors are indispensable to the quilter as actual tool and vital to the writer as a symbol for editing.

Yesterday, I cut rectangles of fabric for a crib quilt commission and cut out almost 3,000 words from my manuscript (where, by the way, snakes like this show up more than once).

The snakes add a mythic element.

Transformation: the shedding of skin.

Eternity: the snake eating its tail.

Death: by venomous fangs.

Meanwhile, The snow did NOT turn to rain as predicted.

And it‘s light and fluffy.

*

Acey’s Collage Month.

See also my Flickr album. SoulCollage and the tags here on the blog.

Arms aloft Sufi

Found my protective talisman. My agent of change. My reminder of where transformation lies.

The whirling Dervish.

Coming of age as I did near New Lebanon, New York, the site of The Abode, I knew Sufis. Worked with a few at a Japanese restaurant near the intersection of Routes 20 and 22. Watched the waitresses go weak in the knees when Pir Vilayat Khan came to dine.

Even before that, though, I’d spent a summer working at a camp in Nova Scotia run by a Sufi. I bunked with another Sufi from Czechoslovakia (it was still around back then). I learned heart-centered meditation that summer, which competed with the TM I’d learned the year before. There was lots of storytelling and swimming naked in the sea, which is warm up there because of the Gulf Stream.

Years later, when I took part in a group that looked to Rumi for wisdom and occasionally cleared the floor to whirl, I was primed.

Whirling draws down heaven, even when you are a clod with no teacher and slim practice. Reliably so.

Somewhat like Grace’s Tree Woman, this glowing image of dervishes has been in my possession been for many, many years — most recently, pinned to the basement fridge (in my studio) with magnets. Ten years? More?

It wasn’t until cutting the outline of the Sufi that I realized the similarity of the arms held aloft to the girl running up the steps and the skateboarding boy.

Maybe it’s time to dance again? Or whirl?

*

Prompt 16. Acey’s Collage Month.

See also my Flickr album. SoulCollage and the tags here on the blog.

Symbol versus talisman

Still in bed. Feel like I’ve taken on some of K’s jet lag. But my cold is gone.

Speaking of cold, yesterday I opened up the bedroom after cleaning, like I do. Turned the heat off. Put the fan in the window and switched it and the air purifier on. Meant to set a timer for 40 minutes and forgot.

Ooooh whee. It was 15 degrees here yesterday. Our mattress froze.

It was fine.

We’d just seen the movie about Bryan Stevenson of the Equal Justice Initiative, Just Mercy. I cried more than once and, I don’t cry.

After the shortest possible jog (because of the cold), we ate at Bernard’s — a Chinese place that used to be in the mall and now sits on an access road the developers dubbed, “The Street” (what can I say? It’s Chestnut Hill?). After I blurted out that K had been to China 55 times (it’s really 52), our waiter became very attentive. I drank at least sixty ounces of water, for as soon as my glass neared empty, there came Quan with a refill. Smiling.

Anyway: after reading Grace’s post, I realized my response to Acey’s “Find a talisman or protector” prompt needs a redo.

That hooded guy is a symbol and a powerful one but he doesn’t feel like mine, in a way. He doesn’t even feel INTERESTED in me. That’s part of the point of him, in fact. His eyes his view his witnessing go to much bigger things. Or smaller. But not personal.

PS I discovered while cutting out another outline, that by clipping the hood and shortening one arm so that the figure appears to be facing forward with her arms extended (in a gesture of MERCY, in fact), the figure goes from male to female.

Yes, once the female arrived, it was clear that the other is male.