100 Lighter Days

Need Inspiration and Light?

 
Want to walk lightly and boost your creativity? Daydream of spring’s buttery tulips while you write, paint, or work? I can vouch for “about yellow” by Tammy Haze and Cheryl Murphy of Watercolor Harps.  Click here to sample one of the tracks entitled, “Your Smile.” The harpists say they composed the music to frame a simple question, “What will you do with your smile?”

During the CD release party on a sultry afternoon, I met nine-year-old Karina, who painted the CD’s cover art (above).  She could mentor the world—she knows how to wrap up her smile and give it as a gift!

When she painted "about yellow," she inserted the essence of joy with extravagant yellow brush strokes and hid a secret or two. “Can you find the hidden treasures in the sun?” she tests me with a clever grin.

A riddle. How about you, what do you see?

Retreat Now!

 
You can be frugal and flourish! Thanks to Practicing Writer for pointing the way to this article, "How to Run a DIY Writer's Retreat."  Kudos to Eirka Dreifus and Lisa Tiffin.

Even From the Ditches They Praise You

 

"Even From the Ditches They Praise You," painted by Katy Wilson at Galerie of Pella. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

There are hundreds--even thousands--of dark stories of loss, desperation, and violence in Haiti. Let us all pray, grieve with them, and remember what Boston or LA might look like if all our stores were closed and stealing food was the only way to feed our families.

[Enter a simple woman with hope. . .] When the NPR radio host asked how she had the energy to stand on a hot street corner to prepare and sell patties made of cabbage, she said, "God is giving me strength. That is how I'm able to support my family."

The painting above is entitled "Even from the Ditches They Praise You," and to me, it reflects the beauty of an open soul reaching upward.

The woman making cabbage patties has that kind of beauty and light.

A Time to Be Silent

 

“Word”

by Madeleine L'Engle

I, who live by words, am wordless when
I try my words in prayer. All language turns
To silence. Prayer will take my words and then
Reveal their emptiness. The stilled voice learns
To hold its peace, to listen with the heart
To silence that is joy, is adoration.
The self is shattered, all words torn apart
In this strange patterned time of contemplation
That, in time, breaks time, breaks words, breaks me,
And then, in silence, leaves me healed and mended.
I leave, returned to language, for I see
Through words, even when all words are ended.

I, who live by words, am wordless when
I turn me to the Word to pray. Amen.

from The Weather of the Heart, poems by Madeleine L'Engle; Harold Shaw Publishers, 1988

Be Tender and Wise

  
Our hearts go out to people in Haiti this morning. We’re grateful a mission team from our community arrived there safely. They reached their destination in Fedja just hours before the earthquake on Tuesday.

While the earth shook, a news stream revealed a woman who wailed, “Oh my God, the world’s coming to an end!” Streets jammed with panicked people. The injured moaned from beneath the rubble. The sky filled with dust.

A Facebook comment asks, “Will this catastrophe help us pay attention to a suffering nation so close to us?”

I pray it will be so.

While our hearts are open and eager to give, let's also be wise. Unfortunately, there are people who have no trouble scamming in a time like this. Do a little homework, so those in need can truly benefit.

I’m sure there are other credible lists, but CNN offers a good one. Click here.

 

A Little Bit of Air

“Just so you know, Grandma, get ready for your butt to hurt,” my granddaughter cautioned me. I nodded, grabbed my sled, plopped down on it, and pushed off toward the snow jump.

She was right. Foolish Grandma, jumps are for kids. Well, at least if you’re this grandma.

When I landed, my butt wasn’t the only thing that hurt—so did every vertebrae, the base of my neck, my tongue, and my teeth. I stood up, brushed off the snow, scooped up the plastic saucer, and yelled, “You’re right! I’ll stick to the bunny slope now.”

She flashed an I-told-you-so smile and giggled.

Play! That’s what I love about being a grandma. Stuart Brown, the play guru, says you travel to a parallel universe of free-floating time and creativity when you play. You get to do stupid things, laugh about them, and hopefully learn something. You get to taste the joy of getting a little bit of air—even if your butt still hurts the next morning. <sigh. . .>