Bringing in the New Year with My Birthday Buddies

Posted on January 17, 2021 by ShellyLFrancis

When your family recipe for Hurry Up Chocolate birthday cake is the most delicious ever, with its pink frosting with a few drops of Nana’s ancient almond extract, well, the cake is a thing. The thing you really look forward to and savor for dessert and breakfast the following day(s).

When your tummy finally calls Uncle and asks you to eliminate sugar, eggs, flour, butter, milk, and more, there isn’t a lot of cake you can make. There is that sugar-free aquafava chocolate mousse from Lazy Cat Kitchen, which is pretty great, but this year, after a year of quarantine, we had an even better idea.

Let’s make a sandcastle at the river-beach, light a candle, and have a birthday playdate, sans picnic. The sand was too rocky to hold a cupcake shape, but the River’s frozen snow-ice was an even better cake-and-frosting alternative.

The Candle took fire-breathing lessons from the dragon and the West Wind must’ve been having a birthday too, because she kept blowing it out.

My birthday buddies have plans for 2021, coming to books for you with their creative courage.

The Dragon figures in a fairy tale I’m calling “Once Upon a Heartstring.” It was in the last chapter of Damocles’ Wife, chapter 55, and now that I’m turning 56 it makes perfect sense to finish the story. Winter winds had brought a mean and terrible dragon that ravaged the village and farms, wounding the boy’s father who is barely beginning to heal. When the grownups can’t decide what to do, the boy decides to leave his village to go put an end to the dragon. Does he slay or befriend it, or does he learn something else entirely true? I wrote the beginning and end one starry night in 1998 but couldn’t imagine the middle back then. The middle has finally made itself known, and an illustrator is standing by to bring the story to life. This dragon is standing by as inspiration and model.

The tortoise and the big elephant are also on a journey, having met each other one day in the jungle when the little tortoise was lost. How will the poetry of their unfolding friendship help them find their way home? Dr. Mukta Panda, author of Resilient Threads, is birthing this children’s book to reimagine a path to living with joy and meaning. She and I are co-leading an online retreat together in March on Reframing Resilience, Renewing Leadership.

Emotikin is going through her archives of adventures since 2003 and deciding which ones to turn into storybooks. If you didn’t see it on Solstice, you can find her first offering, Eleven Brave Pinecones, here.

Later that 56th birthday day, by the way, my mom and dad got creative and made me a broccoli birthday cake!! It was the sweetest cake ever! Turns out you really don’t need chocolate to sing Happy Birthday to You!

I’m already feeling the creative expansion of 2021 and hope you do, too!

After the Windowsill

Posted on June 18, 2016 by ShellyLFrancis

Today was the day. It was time to let my seashell friends and stones go back home. They’ve been gracing my windowsills nearly a year, coming to stay a few at a time over time. The spiders and dust motes made them sneeze. So in the spirit of Solstice next Tuesday, it seemed the right day to let High Tide give them a go.

So off to Point Robinson, north of the lighthouse.

Out of the basket, landing in the sand with happy chirps.

Ah, what a beautiful crew. I’m going to miss them.

They jumped onto the just-right-size driftwood to take in the view, get their bearings.

Then we sang songs. I wish you could have heard them harmonizing.

When it was time for me to say farewell, one little green stone asked to go back in my pocket. I said yes, of course, yes.

I must admit, the basket wasn’t empty when I left the beach. New stones had invited themselves for summer vacation. But that’s another story.

Enjoy the whole movie story with music:

Rare to find whole

Posted on March 5, 2016 by ShellyLFrancis

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.

Meaning within arm’s reach of beach blanket

Posted on August 12, 2015 by ShellyLFrancis

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.

Finding My Way to Underwater Clarity

Posted on May 25, 2015 by ShellyLFrancis

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.

The Dandelion and the Seashell

Posted on May 16, 2015 by ShellyLFrancis

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.

Going With the Flow

Posted on April 6, 2015 by ShellyLFrancis

{Spoiler alert: There’s a movie at the end.}

The first step of an adventure…

The first step of an adventure

combines peril with pause
and a push…

And a push

Your heart pounds a bit
like the waves rolling in

The waves rolling in

You must remember to breathe.

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.

7-praying-for-strength

Pray for strength and strong rope.

5-pushing-waves

Hope your ballast means balance

Whirlpools

Wish on the whirlpools
and wait for the waves…

And plunge into the waves
Push! Kick! Jump!
Off you go!

The clouds part

Clouds part.
Sun comes out.

You’re now on your way.

Add some friends.

Pick up some buddies,
Take turns being guide.

Set your course
See the sights

Salute the seaweed and mermaids below.

See seaweed More seaweed

Engage your reflection
in fun conversation

Who knows what she sees from her side.

Enjoy being afloat

Enjoy being afloat.
Race the clouds.
Race the whales.
Raise your sails, in spirit at least.

Go ashore

Ahoy there!
There’s land.
An uncharted island.

Let's go explore.

Let’s go explore.
Stow your boat.

Say farewell

Say farewell to the shells
who began to get seasick
and are glad to land back on the sand.

So long for now

So long for now.

16-bye-bye

It’s time for adventure on land
(after Old Driftwood tells me a story).

See you next time!

I’ll send a postcard!

P.S. Here’s a glimpse of our ocean adventure in motion.

Dancing with a Shadow of My Current Self

Posted on February 16, 2015 by ShellyLFrancis

I was just standing there
enjoying the view
breathing in the salt air
when I felt a presence behind me
breathing out.

I froze for a second
afraid of what I might find.

I turned suddenly

I spun around
and said “Ha!”
as if to surprise the intruder.
And I saw it was me.
“Ha!” my shadow said back
unsurprised
and happy to see me
face to face.

Hello, old friend
she said to me
and I said to her
in the same breath.

Shall we dance?

She whistled a tune
while we danced a jig
and laughed when
I tripped over my toes
and almost fell into the tide.

Let's go explore

Oh, I’ve missed you!
Where have you been?

Here. As always.
You forget to listen
for my whispers,
she said without hurt.
Life gets loud, doesn’t it?
she said with compassion.

And then, to change the subject
and get back to some fun,
she said,
Let’s go on an adventure…

As we peered round the corner
seeing where to go next
we drew close enough to swap secrets.
Nearly one as shadow and light
but not quite.

I love sunny days.

Saluting the Seattle October sky and a particularly rosy sunset

Posted on October 10, 2014 by ShellyLFrancis

Tuesday night felt like one of the last
I could get to the beach before the sun said goodnight.

Shorter days, longer nights shouldn’t make me so sad.
It’s part of the plan. Those seasons.

High tide greeted me when I arrived.
The pink gold glow would have pleased Van Gogh.

I climbed out on a log to watch two ducks
the waves,
and the sunset.

The same couple of ducks that nipped at my ankles
last Friday, protecting their puddle on the path.
Silly ducks.

A labrador jumped on the sand and scared the ducks into the tide.
Silly oblivious dog. Ducks remained unamused.

I stood to salute the October sky.

I wished I could swim, float, dance on the sea.
Instead I do-si-do’d with the tide.

As the sun sank over the edge
I offered to return some green to the sea.
Emeralds woven into a scarf for the mermaids.

Then the sun kissed my head as it left for the day.

I stepped back on the path, not wanting to leave.
Lingering like the light, I stayed one minute more,
saluting the pink as it finished painting the sky.