Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 12

Generous Ants



There is an inspired line from a Billy Collins poem that speaks of devoted ants following him home from the woods one occasion. Sitting down with my own pen and paper, I began to ponder what had followed me home this day. It was a morning rife with unremarkable markedness. A glorious hike in the crisp morning air. Two stealth skunks crossing my path - their odorous aroma transmuting into flora. A sparkling sprinkler catching me delightfully by surprise. Engaging in the practice of getting lost and being found. Amazement and awe at the summer colors bursting and blooming. The ineffable beauty of compatriots surrounding me.



A stream of images continued with ramshackle headstones adorned in garish flowers - surreal and everlasting. Simple rocks formed into crosses, nearly invisible yet ever so present by the side of my path. A scar unveiled. Winged magpie. Parade of cooing rooftop pigeons. An unidentified flock swooping across the cotton-sprinkled azure sky.



While walking today heaven surrounded me through my senses, then followed me home like a trail of generous ants marching across the page.



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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 11

"Why are bathtubs the best places to ponder -- with AND without water?!" - today's ponder prompt from betsy p.



Awaking in the middle of the night in a rustic retreat center, I toss and turn in the bed that is temporarily mine. My sleeping roommate snoozes less than four feet away and I quickly scan the room for non-disruptive midnight options. Turning the light on seems offensive and it's too dark and cold to venture outside. Stealthily I gather my pillows and reach for my notepad as I make my way toward the sole other room in our modest abode - the bathroom.



Immersing myself in the ceramic tub devoid of water, a single drip escapes the faucet and startles me further awake as it lands on my bare toe. Feather-like pillows cushion my body and act as amniotic fluid in this man-made womb. Eventually my nighttime restlessness begins to lessen as I mold myself to the curved fixture designed specifically for holding the human form. (While showers have their own special kind of magic with their resemblance to rain pouring from the sky, there's nothing quite as nurturing as a tub.)



In my nighttime cradle, I've found the perfect incubator for idea nurturing and dream making. I'm reminded of another friend who loves to sit in the bathtub for hours on end - without water. Her inspiration helped me discover these abodes as the near perfect pondering place. Instant mood setting is available in a moment's notice with customized climate control. You can fill it up with hot water or cold; to the brim or ankle deep; with bubbles and aromatherapy or crystal clear; and perhaps most important and least considered, you can order it dry and have your own holding place within seconds. Add some pillows, a candle or two and if you're lucky a window with a view. Voila, an instant cozy spot to bring on the percolating, gestating, resting and waiting, hatching ideas, dreaming, scheming, breathing, being, and, of course, bathing. All hours of the day, there’s a custom cradle not so far away.



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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 10

What lies below us? And what is above? - Christa G.



When I was a little girl, I envisioned splendid images of God and his kingdom in the sky. I believed that if I squinted through my eyelashes and pretended I wasn’t looking that I could catch a glimpse of him floating by on a cloud, surrounded by white-winged angels. I would lie for hours in the fresh summer grass, staring up into the sky until I could feel the slow turning of the earth beneath me. In my child’s mind, I never quite caught that vivid peek of God, but as an adult I realize those were the moments a Higher Power was most fully present to me. In that dreamlike state where waking and sleep merge, when vision blurs and yet becomes crystal clear. The place of being held by the earth, gazing longingly into the sky and being completely content for timeless hours.



Without nearly as much conviction as believing I could catch God through the window of my eyelashes was the notion that somewhere beneath my feet lay a fiery pit tended by a man with red horns, pitched fork and tail. I also imagined that if I dug a hole through the center of the earth, I would end up in China. Much more time was spent fantasizing about the delight and joy of ending up in a faraway little girl’s backyard than worrying about falling into a fiery pit. How could the same earth, soil and grass that cradled my cloud-watching self, also cover such a nasty place in the midst of the earth? I preferred to think of the magical tunnel that connected me to my foreign soul mate.



As an adult, my heart returns to cloud watching and earth pondering. What does lie below? My heart believes it offers a place to be grounded and held. We can be cradled and nurtured in love or we can be captive to fear with worries about what waits to pull us down. And above? Both adult and child know that is the space filled with infinite possibility. The dreamlike state where waking and sleep merge, when vision blurs and yet becomes crystal clear. The place where the most lovely of all things are made manifest.



photo © h3images



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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 9

Old Brain



There is a voice inside our heads that, believe it or not, usually wants to help. It comes from the places of old and is reptilian in nature. Karen Armstrong simply calls it “old brain.” Martha Beck names it our “lizard.” It also goes by such pseudonyms as the inner critic, devil on your shoulder, or possibly your mother. It is the voice that keeps us in check and goes back to primordial times when all we needed was to be safe, fed and procreate. Since there are no saber-toothed tigers stalking us today, our brain has a tendency to make stuff up that emulates danger.



Since it is an old brain, it is both sophisticated and naive in a very primitive way. My inner critic says things like Who do you think you are? No one will read this drivel! Stop while you’re ahead, fool. It doesn’t sound very helpful, does it? I want to shout back and name call, too, in a display of my own unevolved self. Experience, however, demonstrates that what we resist persists. Fighting, pushing, ignoring and shouting back – all feel like resistance to me. Perhaps a new tactic is in order. Pause. Breathe. Listen a little more closely.



Hey, Lizard, what do you really want? Like a sultry teenager or a petulant child, she pouts and whines and calls me more names. By engaging in the name-calling, the drama escalates and no one wins, so I choose to listen a little more deeply. What she really wants is to simply keep me safe. By convincing me to back off from my goals which entail taking risk, she thinks she’s performing her job successfully. Counterintuitive to my basic instincts to battle her, I’ve noticed responding with laughter, kindness, humility and confidence is much more effective in quieting down this petulant child.



What do you really want? Could there be something helpful beneath all that brain noise? Probing a little deeper, I understand my lizard also wants to be heard – just like me. Hmmm. Perhaps a compassionate bent is the best choice, even though placing my fingers in my ears and screaming, “I can’t hear you” can be quite appealing. Petulance or compassion – which will I choose today?



Today's ponder is inspired by Laura S. Her prompt: How does our inner critic serve us, and how do we best relieve her of her duties?



photo © h3images



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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 8

Whispers in the Night Sky



When I lift my eyes to the night heavens and my heart is tugged skyward, a world of infinite possibility surrounds me. The stars wrap around my soul like a satin scarf draped over exposed shoulders on a cool summer’s eve. My heart listens to the Big Dipper who speaks with a crystal voice announcing, Your cup runneth over. Yes, yours.



The eyes of my heart see Egyptian skies as I am transported in time until I lay giggling next to my aureate buddy, gasping at the brilliance of a hundred shooting stars. When I look into the endless sky, my heart remembers Hawaiian nightfall, lying flat-backed and mesmerized alongside my lineage, surrounded by friends and frogs.



My heart sees new life and worlds yet unlived. It gasps, sobs and rejoices at the magnificence I cannot name yet already know. When I look up at the night sky, I see darkness and light. Death and life. Dreams and loss. The sky carries it all – from here to time’s end and all that has gone before. I see angels’ wings and God’s whisper. Tealights on an ocean of unknown – unknowing – undone - unfinished - un-ness. The night sky reaches from the heavens and pulls my heart upward, always. Yes, always.



Today's ponder is inspired by reader "I'm here! Now what?" Thank you for this lovely prompt: When you look up at the stars in the sky. What does your heart see?



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