Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Scribbled Inspiration

There's this little thing I do some mornings. I get out a sketchbook and either some watercolor crayons or oil pastels, I open myself to magic, take the first color that calls to me, and I scribble. 

Let go of the cares that hold you back, let go of the limits, and be free.


I usually start with some kind of flowing lines or circles, keeping them very loose and intuitive. Sometimes it turns into some kind of object or picture.


And sometimes it ends up being more organic, a delightful scribble of color or a page of flowing shapes.

There's more than one way to view things. View your world through eyes of beauty.

I really don't care what I end up with. To me this is all about letting what's inside come out onto the paper. Its about listening to that inner voice, tapping into that deep well of wisdom we all have. It's also about expressing emotion.

Go outside- to the places that nourish your soul. Find peace in the vibrant colors of nature.


Then, when I'm done with my scribbles, I turn over the paper, take out a pen, open myself further, and listen again. There are words of wisdom that come with the art. It's not just words from my mind but words from that deep well of inner wisdom. I scribble them down and smile, because it's usually exactly what I need to hear that day.

I completely adore this process. It fills me with peace and centers me for the rest of the day. I want to make it a more regular part of my life so I plan to make it a regular part of my blog each week. So be on the look out for weekly Scribbled Inspiration!

Saturday, October 6, 2012

You already have everything you need!


 I'm all packed for an adventure my girls and I are taking, a week in Hawaii for my sister's wedding.

We are headed the four hours to the airport and waves of panic and anxiety keep washing over me:
"Oh no, did I pack the flower girl dresses?" 
"Eek, did I pack all the correct cords we need for the electronics??" 
"I think I forgot the __(insert all manner of items)__!"

Finally I realize that I just need to trust that I packed sufficiently, and trust that I have what I need. Relief flooded over me.

Wow! Trust that I have what I need. It really hit me and made me smile. If I applied this to other areas of my life, things would go so much smoother.

I DO have what I need. I have a connection to my inner wisdom, my inner voice that has never lead me astray. Energetically I have a connection to all that is and can access that at any time.

I just need to trust that connection, listen to it, and I will have all I ever need: words, information, plans of action.

I ALREADY have EVERYTHING I need!

YOU already have what you need.

We just have to remember.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

My Papa


There are people in our life that we look up to.
They're strong.
Wise.
Fearless.

They seem immortal.
Like they'll be here forever.
And then we find out that they won't.

I lost my grandpa, my Papa a month ago today.
He had an intense, heart wrenching battle for three weeks in the hospital. It was surreal. This couldn't really be happening. Could it?

I went inward often during this immensely hard time.

I thought about all the great memories and experiences I've had with Papa, Granny, and my large family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and more recently my cousin's and my children. Getting together for holidays, birthdays, and any other occasion we could find to gather together to laugh and eat. Time spent camping in the mountains and picnicking in the desert. Talking in the living room while sports were on the television. Listening to him talk about an interesting article he found in the National Geographic magazine. Finding treasures in his abundant garden, smelling roses in the yard or spotting birds in many of the trees around their home.


I had to find a constructive way to express my feelings of utter sadness. I felt a longing to paint. I saw big blue drips in my mind so I started there and worked on the painting between hospital visits.

While participating in this kind of painting, its all about being present in the process. I try to have no agenda. To only listen and be completely open to those little heart callings, those whispers of intuition, those pullings of the brush.

I felt compelled to turn the painting sideways and paint quakies, aspen trees. One of Papa's close companions during his many trips to the mountain.

Then I felt the painting ask for a full moon to be painted in the open spot to the right. Fear gripped me. It would be the full moon in just a few short days. Surely if I painted a full moon the unimaginable would happen soon and I would lose my Papa. I set my paint brush down and tried to walk away from the painting. I felt a strong, almost physical pull back to my painting. I stood there with tears streaming down my face. I've learned that it's important to listen to that quiet intuition, so I painted that moon. Then in my mind's eye I saw more blue drips, but this time coming down the trees. I didn't have the time at that point so I planned to come back to the painting.

The next day we were able to communicate with with Papa despite the ventilator and multiple IVs. He wanted to go home and he wanted the process stared now!

A few hours after he arrived home, the most amazing thunder storm broke out. Power filled thunder and lightning shook. Rain poured down. Papa peacefully slipped away surround by his adoring family. The sky and the trees cried with my family at the loss of this great man.

I was outside on the porch as it happened, looking at the beautiful sunflowers across the street, and the birds, and the trees. I felt a warm hug-like presence at my side. I turned to see who was hugging me but no one was there. I know Papa had stopped to tell me it was all going to be okay.

The following days were spent with the family, looking at photos and recounting stories of Papa's life. Of the crazy adventures. Of his fondness for the natural world. Of the incredible love and support he had for his family. Of his wisdom. Of his strength.

It took a while before I could return to the painting but when I did, I felt a peace wash over me as I painted those drips coming down the tree. I turned my thoughts to a poem:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
I am in the flowers that bloom, 
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
-- Mary Elizabeth Frye
I love you Papa and miss you something fierce!