Saturday is a day for unwinding,
Whether or not the sun in shining,
Whether or not the birds are singing
(which they are, by the way).
Let your stress spin off on the grass,
Fertilizing green sprouts while weeding your mind.
Notice that moment when time slows enough
for your soul to catch up
and sing in slow motion.
<<Sorry to report that YouTube deemed the video showing Emotikin spinning on the swing was unsafe viewing for children! Use your imagination and be safe! View it there anyway.>>
Took my inner artist to the beach today on this rare dry Seattle Saturday. The sun was already behind clouds, but I didn’t care. I met two most wonderful seashells, rare to find whole, hard to find small, fun to zoom in on in wonder. Enjoy meeting them, too.
Before I could welcome the New Year
I had goodbyes to say
and thank yous to pray,
and rare sunshine showed up to take notice.
Goodbye was due to my old friend Doug Fir,
whose last wish was I dance on his growth rings.
His rings tallied up drought and the raining disasters
that helped him grow tall and yet taller.
Before my goodbyes my knees buckled and bent.
Long skinny shadows suggested forgiveness I seek
for too many days through too many years
tucked under a desk, life ignoring.
As penance and promise when I welcome the New Year,
I will measure the width of your growth rings, Doug Fir.
I will witness your years with the breadth of a hug
that tugs my heart wide, wide, wide open.
Take a deep breath now, I said to myself,
and I shifted my sorrow to solace.
Will you dance with me now, Mr. New Year? I asked.
Will you honor my friend
who is gone?
Yes I will.
Who will lead?
We’ll take turns.
You go first.
Spring leads.
Summer follows.
But it’s winter.
As I welcome the New Year
I will dance in the darkness
deep down in my heart
I will welcome the shade
and the cold.
Then let’s dance in the sunlight
that shines on us now
even though the air
is still frosty.
Bring me light
Bring me joy
Bring friendship
Bring blue sky
Help me ring in the New Year with gladness.
Make me silly
Make me strong
Make me giddy
Make me wrong
to sit too long at my desk without playing.
Help me laugh
Help me sing
Help me flap my strong wings
Help me land on my feet 
Please stand with me each day,
Mr. New Year.
May I count my own growth rings
this year as I change.
May I remember to bow
and say thank you.
May I take time to dance
and play with my friends.
And sing wondrous songs with my soul.*
Thanks for dancing with me, Mr. New Year!
~ You’re welcome! ~
*Big thanks to my friend Alan Claassen for permission to put his wondrous song in this video:
Some days do you get the feeling that it’s time to mix things up? Make a new cake? Challenge the status quo?
Today was one of those days.
I took my sturdiest, shiniest tool to the shore.
I started at the south cove where the wind wasn’t so strong, thinking I’d have the best chance to stir something up without tipping over.
I gave it a go. I watched the fisherman casting his line, as if that might inform the sweep of my arm.
It didn’t have quite the right energy. I wanted more of a ripple.
I sat down, perplexed, and pulled some seaweed out of the blades.
This was going to take more courage, and the right kind of wind.
So I tromped ‘round the bend and a gust of promise said Yes!
I dug in my heels and set the wheel to be ready.
And I waited for just the right moment.
It’s hard to stir up an ocean, but if you start at just the right moment, you have a good chance. It’s that pause between breaths . . . as if high tide needs to sneeze.
A bird friend give me a nod, without making me feel he was watching or judging.
He just showed me how he likes to fly, using the wind as a tool.
Encouraged, I mixed.
And I mixed. And I mixed.
I don’t know if the ocean noticed my efforts. But something shifted inside me.
Energized.
Effervescent.
Yet peaceful. Satisfaction.
Because I took action.
See the video version below:
My buddy Blue Duck and I went to the beach Friday night after work.
He and the other two ducks, Yellow and Pink, had spent a long week trying hard to stay in a row. When the clock hit 5:30 pm I suggested a jaunt. Yellow and Pink, workaholics they are, said no thank you. So Blue Duck and I went to the beach by ourselves.
Man, it felt good to walk on the sand and float in the waves. (Blue didn’t mind being tethered because you never know what rogue waves have planned at high tide.)
Blue spied a bottle coming in toward the shore. At first we expected a message inside.
What we saw was a whole ‘nother world, sloshing high tide inside under blue sky.
Blue just had to play Pirate, jumping on top, yelling “Ahoy!” to the boat passing by. He looked a bit silly but happy and isn’t that what Friday nights are for at the beach … for unfrazzling frolics?
Blue has amazing balance. He had fun pretending to swashbuckle with the bugs jumping nearby.
Better balance than me, who fell over laughing. My ankles got wet, so I said, “Let’s go sit down.”
We just sat there, we two, on the driftwood. We sat there inviting the sun to soak into my soles. It was nearing six-thirty. One hour til the September sundown.
It’s good for friends to unfrazzle on Fridays. We should do it more often.
I made Monday a Sunday.
Slept in. Dawdled. Worked only one hour.
Then I went to the beach by myself plus my soul and my snapshot machine. And beach blanket.
High tide was on its way in. So much for exploring.
My self said lets sit. No need to explore. We can see what we see from this spot on the rocks.
She was right. Our eyesight grew sharper with a short-sighted focus. What could we see in the sand and the gravel and driftwood from here? A lot it turns out.
Like flat rocks to stack, like thoughts on a shelf.
And blue mussel halves of size large and medium. Then lo and behold, a super small two-halves still-intact whole!
Add a half ancient shell with hole for a string to add to my collection back home, then a super small shell of the same kind, sans string hole.
Clear sandblasted glass then a green shard.
My eyes were having so much fun noticing, I mostly took pics with my mind.
I noticed how high tide comes in with so much stuff in the swells. It matches the muck in my mind that’s needing releasing.
The waves serenaded. The sun played hide and seek. The sand bugs jumped up and down in delight or delirium; it was hard to know what they meant in their popcorn-like frenzy.
Time slowed. Time passed. Sea slowed and did a 180 sans fanfare.
By the time dinner called I noticed the waves were clear of all stuff. So was my mind.
Have you ever had a day like this?
Feeling gray sky, low tide and garbled?
Lacking direction?
Sans focus?
On days like this
I go to the coast
where the fresh water
flows into the saltwater sea.
I try to hydrate my head and my heart.
I breathe in.
I breathe up.
I breathe out.
I stand on firm ground,
albeit shifting.
I reach in.
I reach up.
I reach out.
I arrive.
And I have a heart to heart
talk with myself, who says
I…BELIEVE…in YOU!
You’re on the right track.
I let my Self point which way to go next.
“Here, go with the flow,
Go join the whole”
Seriously, THAT way!
You’re not a salmon.
You can’t swim upstream.
You must go toward the ocean.
My soul could feel my self hesitation.
She put on her seashell amulet bracelet
as if pushing up sleeves.
She pulled out the green arrow,
The unmistakable way-pointing sign.
I gazed at the arrow so long and so hard.
I wanted to trust its clear sense of direction.
But it wasn’t quite speaking my language.
My soul had a better idea.
She turned that green arrow into my heart.
The even more unmistakable way-pointing sign.
And my soul pointed the way once again.
This time I heard not only her voice
but my heart as it beat in agreement
Finally understanding the path.
We breathed in
We breathed out
We jumped in
to the flow of fresh water.
Who knows how long it will take to
make it down river,
How many high and low tides.
But I’m determined to go with the flow
toward the big picture ocean.
Call it underwater clarity.
I’m all in.
It was half-past high tide and love at first sight
when the tiny pink seashell
caught my heart from her spot on the sand.
She paused in her talk with the shell-shard and seaweed
to blow me a kiss of hello.
“Oh, hello! Pleased to meet you,” I said
as I sat down and scooped her up in my palm.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you before in this cove.”
“That’s cuz I’m new here,” she replied.
“Can you show me around?”
We walked up the beach
and I showed her some sights
she’d never seen from the height of my hand.
At the Driftwood Plateau we met a lone plant
who had grown in the sea-tossed-up soil.
“Seashell, meet Dandelion.
Dandelion, Seashell.”
“I thought dandelions were bright yellow with petals?”
Seashell asked with a pure questioning heart.
“I am still a yellow dandelion,” said the flower,
“But my yellow has transformed into seeds.
What you see now are my daughter ideas
almost ready to spread.”
“Is it true I can blow on your face
to make my wishes come true?”
asked Seashell.
What you may not know
(Because I know I didn’t)
is that dandelions can make wishes, too,
by blowing into the face of pink seashells.
Each blew hard as they could
to send their wish flying.
Seashell did a backflip.
Dandelion launched seeds.
“Ha! Now my wish can come true,”
laughed the shell when she landed.
“I’m hoping a wave will arise
and sweep me back to the sea. That’s where I belong.”
Without a word Dandelion smiled,
Trusting her wish would come true.
{Spoiler alert: There’s a movie at the end.}
The first step of an adventure…
combines peril with pause
and a push…
Your heart pounds a bit
like the waves rolling in
You must remember to breathe.
Lean in, use your legs
and don’t mind the spectators
sitting like the rocks that they are
wishing they had your verve and your nerve.
Pray for strength and strong rope.
Hope your ballast means balance
Wish on the whirlpools
and wait for the waves…
Push! Kick! Jump!
Off you go!
Clouds part.
Sun comes out.
You’re now on your way.
Pick up some buddies,
Take turns being guide.
Set your course
See the sights
Salute the seaweed and mermaids below.
Engage your reflection
in fun conversation
Who knows what she sees from her side.
Enjoy being afloat.
Race the clouds.
Race the whales.
Raise your sails, in spirit at least.
Ahoy there!
There’s land.
An uncharted island.
Let’s go explore.
Stow your boat.
Say farewell to the shells
who began to get seasick
and are glad to land back on the sand.
So long for now.
It’s time for adventure on land
(after Old Driftwood tells me a story).
I’ll send a postcard!
P.S. Here’s a glimpse of our ocean adventure in motion.
[Please enjoy our second video story and photos!]
I walked down to the meadow on Saint Patrick’s Day to visit my friend, Mr. Gnome. The daffodil sisters were shouting with their hyacinth smell for me to come over. They had something to say.
I stood on a log to get closer. The eldest leaned down. I peered into her face, and inhaled as big as I could.
“Oh my gosh, you smell divine!”
“Why, thank you,” she said, on behalf of the whole clump of girls. And they giggled and waved with delight.
“The slugs have been bugging us,” the eldest told me. “Their breath is so bad. Can you help?”
“I’m not at all sure,” I replied. “What can I do? They live here, too.”
“Just look at these holes in our petals!” she cried.
“You may look bedraggled,” I said, “But that’s what comes from a full season of growth. You’re living your life. You’re feeding the slugs. You’re perfuming the air with your heavenly notes. You’re lovely narcissus!”
Then I added, “You’ve made this meadow a sight to behold. I’m beholden to you and your crew.
“And I know for a fact, you’ve blessed and impressed more than me, the slugs and the bees. We’re so lucky you live here. I don’t know what to do, but let’s ask Mr. Gnome.”
I knew with his spidey-sense ears that he’d heard the whole conversation.
Mr. Gnome simply whispered, “I’ll have a talk with the slugs.”
Emotikin World 