Possible, Impossible

I revived this poem from two years ago because it feels even more relevant today!

Sonnet #3
© by Christine O’Brien

Possible, impossible, a constant weave
Do we have control over where we go?
When the powers that be cause us to grieve,
Can we grab the reins, redirect the flow?

When so-called leaders don’t know how to lead
When ambassadorship, isn’t their forte
Why do we entrust what we hold sacred
to those who lead us to certain “muerte“?

Resources are finite, global warming, fact
Denial has been a way of life too long
We are coming up against our earth’s lack
How can she provide when we ignore her song?

This regime cannot withstand the earth’s dream
She will have her way as they sit and scheme.

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Why is there a battle between humankind and nature?  Didn’t we arise from nature and doesn’t nature include us as some wise persons have noted?  When do we decide to heed the warnings and begin to turn things around?

Project Drawdown is a ray of hope today.  Have you heard of it?  Following is a short clip that gives a glimpse into the possible.  What’s impossible is the direction we’ve been going.

The following clip is about 1-1/2 minutes long.  Paul Hawkens is the speaker.

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Here’s my invitation to you.

  • Make yourself a cup of your favorite tea.
  • Have a pen and pad handy.
  • Google “YouTube video of Project Drawdown” or Paul Hawken (he is one of the spokespersons for this project).
  • There are several videos of varying length.
  • Choose one.
  • Listen deeply and take notes.
  • Is there anything that connects with you?
  • Is there anything that is spoken that arouses your concern, interest or passion?
  • Consider learning more about it.
  • Begin talking to others about it.
  • Is there the possibility of forming a circle with others with similar concerns?
  • Is there an immediate action that you want to take?  A group action?

I believe that it’s possible to change a direction if we act soon.

Ethereal Butterfly

For me and others, butterflies are a symbol of both hope and transformation.  At this time, perhaps we are being invited to transform something in ourselves that hasn’t been working for a very long time.  This is such an individual thing but it can make a collective difference.

One thing that I learned about the butterfly a few years ago.  The butterfly can remain in the cocoon and won’t emerge until the conditions are right.  So the  butterfly stays in a state of suspension for an indeterminate period of time.  My daughter had a direct experience of this.  She had moved, for one reason or another, to several apartments over the course of a few years.  Each time she unpacked, she placed a little cocoon that she’d been carrying with her on the mantelpiece.   One morning, she got up and above the mantelpiece was a beautiful, fully formed swallowtail butterfly–the cocoon broken open.

According to Jeremy Hemberger, “Most butterflies and moths stay inside of their chrysalis or cocoon for between five to 21 days. If they’re in really harsh places like deserts, some will stay in there for up to three years waiting for rain or good conditions. The environment needs to be ideal for them to come out, feed on plants and lay eggs.”

butterfly1

This painting evolved from an online class.  Sometimes, you have an intention for your painting…I want to paint a butterfly.  Then the unfolding happens.  In that single moment in time, that butterfly painting expresses something inside of me that wants to be seen by me…and perhaps recognized by another.

It seems that right now we are asked to be in a holding pattern.  We are living then in a suspended state…this isn’t easy, is it?  We are so action-oriented, busy, busy.  And now, we wait until conditions are right before we emerge once again.

What can you do for yourself to foster those right conditions?

Your Own Butterfly

On an 8×10″ piece of watercolor paper (140 lb. weight), drip and spray acrylic inks or dab paints to cover the paper (what you paint on is called your substrate).  Choose either cool colors or warm colors for this first layer.  Some cool colors are blue, green and purple and the warm colors are yellow, red and orange.  Let the first layer dry and then come back in with the opposite colors to make designs of your choice.  Let that layer dry.  Finally, add dabs of white in strategic places across the substrate.  Once that is dry, draw a butterfly shape in the center.  You can use white charcoal or white colored pencil to draw the outline of the butterfly.  It doesn’t have to be perfect.  Don’t forget the body in the center.

Choose a favorite color and paint the background around the butterfly shape.  You can let some of the background peek through outside of the butterfly.  You can use a more transparent paint so that the under layers are visible yet don’t compete with the central butterfly.  Look at an image of a butterfly noting the symmetry on each side.  Design your butterfly.   You can use markers for this.  Don’t strive for perfection.  Get lost in the creative process.  Your butterfly is unique to you.

Remembering the Connection

invitation.2019

This is another theme of mine that replays itself.  Truly, I don’t understand how anyone (me included at times) canNOT see that everything affects everything.  When my daughters were young and watching Sesame Street, there was a cartoon that they replayed frequently.  It went something like this…If I pop my little brother’s balloon, he’s going to cry.  Mommy is going to come running.  He’s going to point his finger at me.  I’m going to get into trouble.

An effective example of actions with consequences.  So it is with our earth.  We are invited to share in the beauty and the bounty provided by nature.  And, it’s a wise thing to live sustainably and reciprocate in ways that we are able.  How we impact our planet, “our carbon footprint” for one, affects not only us, but the other creatures with whom we share this earth home.  And also, the generations to come.

This painting invites us into the forest and to receive the healing salve of being in nature.  It is an invitation requiring reciprocity.  Please respect this earth–home to many.

 

The Stone’s Story

I do not for a second believe it when someone says to me: “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”  Or, “I didn’t get that gene.”

Like anything that one values, your own brand of creativity needs attention.  If you show up and pay attention, inspiration is everywhere and the point where you and inspiration intersect is a creative opportunity.  Creativity isn’t about perfection or making a painting or drawing like someone else.  It’s about tapping into your own unique expression.  And it takes DARING.  Especially in the beginning.  Below is an invitation to you to dare to be creative in a way that is unique to you.  Yes, you get to foster your own creativity!  Have fun.

In her book, Freeing the Creative Spirit, artist/author Adriana Diaz, offers a guided meditation, drawing and writing exercise with a stone or river rock that you select
as your object and subject.  She calls it “The Counsel of Stone.”  Have you ever journeyed with a stone?  Have you considered the stories it holds, the messages it conveys?  I have.  You are invited to follow suit, if you choose.

Stone Consciousness
© by Christine O’Brien

I know loneliness
a stone separated
from it’s streambed
My particular glamour
is less appealing here
Or, residing here for nine years,
have I become part of the wallpaper
unseen, too familiar
Like this displaced stone
am I commonplace
or too old
This stone a misshapen buddha
solitary bodhisattva
witness to its own cleaving
remembering the whole
What dissension shattered humankind
into this separation
Lonely and separate as this scarred stone
praised for its cool detachment
who cares to hear
the untold encrypted story

A star has fallen
to the bottom of the sea
fossilized
while a starfish rises into
the darkening sky
alternating realities
God is in us
is all right with the world
Has the stone learned compassion
Is that the panacea for such loneliness

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Go ahead and find your  stone and seek its counsel.  Study it from every side, notice its angles and curves, any markings, hold it in your palm, draw it, meditate with it, write about what is revealed to you in a poem or prose.  Just do it!

Share here under comments if you like.

Soup Night

Navigating winter in the mountains, for those who don’t fly south, is an art form.  Of course, there are those who love winter sports and they are in their element.  I am not a skier, snowboarder or snowshoer–although I’ve experienced two out of the three.  For me, the challenge with winter is getting through it–overcoming the isolation which heavy snow imposes.  Travel north or south is inhibited as the highway may have restrictions.  Or, driving in a “white out” with poor visibility can be daunting.

A few winters back, when the first heavy snow hit, a depressed feeling settled over me.  Looking out my window as the large flakes whirled abundantly, I could see that soon my world would be covered in white.  While pretty on a postcard, there are the practical challenges.  I need to contact the men who shovel my driveway and walkways.  Be sure that I have enough fuel.  Is the cupboard fully stocked if we are going to have several days of snow?  Do I need to wrap the water pipes if the temperature drops too low?  Living close enough to the stores, I layer clothing,  don my hiking boots and trek through the snow and slush to get to the post office and grocery store if necessary.

This particular day, I was dicing onions and carrots for a pot of soup.  It occurred to me that I could invite friends over to share the soup.  I called about six friends.  They couldn’t promise, but they’d see how bad this storm was going to be.  One friend blatantly said, “Christine, no one’s going to come!”  However, just the thought that someone might show up spurred me on.

The invitation was “If you dare to come out tonight, I’ve got a hearty pot of soup on the back burner…bring your favorite soup bowl!”

That night, in a heavy winter storm, four people came.  The next week, there were eight of us.  By the end of the winter season, soup night had become an institution which rotated among several homes averaging ten to twelve people.  This meant we needed two pots of soup, bread, salad and occasionally dessert.  The warm feeling of sharing and communing while the world outside was enveloped in cold and white brought new meaning to winter in the mountains.