beautiful imagines and sage words. (just a sobering thought though - what if what is in us is not as beautiful as a lilac, nor as innocent? what then?)
have a beautiful weekend, ruth. i've only a touch of melancholy hopefully soon remedied:)
Beautiful photographs and beautiful thoughts. I like it when what is inside of Ruth comes out. I remember reading that everyone reveals their truth sooner or later. At the time, I was trying not to face that truth, but it did come out after all.
Our friend Dawn passed away last night. These are the words I need to hear just at this moment. She takes the form of birds, and flowers. No dearth of them in summer. She always called me Little Flower. She loved horses, she owned two. She used to call them her Old Ladies. The night before she left, I was imagining her riding bareback on a horse. I was in a car at the time, and picturing her, racing, keeping up alongside us, the whole journey long. xxx
Our lilacs are still hiding inside their buds. It will be a couple of weeks before the thought of appearing begins to push the boundaries of the shell of believing they will never appear.
Such beautiful pix: bloom, vroom! James Hillman wrote in The Soul's Code that there's an amazing amount of imprint in the psyche -- call it fate -- which a life is then spent bringing to bloom. Our human nature -- how could it be different than nature's? And yet, as Blake said, "As the eyes is formed, such are its powers" -- meaning there is always nurture of the nature. Note to erin -- the bittersweetness of melancholy is one of the finest nuances of feeling I have known. 'S why so many creatives suffer it. - Brendan
This is the very definition of creativity, flowers of individual spirits that give shape and form to the external world. This is the lifeblood of human existence, every soul unfolding in accordance with the rhythms of some greater mystery.
Gorgeous pictures Ruth - even of the mushroom. I do have to admit that sometimes what's inside does feel more like that humble mushroom. But it's not really all that humble is it? It's prized for it's excellent flavor - so maybe I can be prized for what I think is not beautiful too. Hmm.
ruth this writing very gently opens the entire piece around the notions of interior and exterior. i like the idea that the outer world provides order in the form of the surface features that we can then name and describe. those same surface features are like keys to the deep mapping of the real world. in this way i like rilke's thinking around the place of sadness as being of similar value to joy: " you mustn’t be frightened if a sadness rises in front of you, larger than any you have ever seen; if an anxiety, like light and cloud-shadows, moves over your hands and over everything you do. you must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. " steven
Hmmm. Just such a wonderful poem, and I like what Nelson wrote. That often what we think is not beautiful inside us often is. Injust love your barn in the background, so solid and strong and I afore the color of it.
and also, you know what warms my heart... the fact that this morning I told myself I must go out , rain or no, and photograph the lilac buds outside my kitchen window finally popping open, the mix of becoming and being and yet to be..
Perfect. Have been pondering lilacs, but you have said all that needed saying. Thank you. (How wonderful that you are just coming into that scent, as it is gently leaving here!)
To erin: There is always that side--and that fear. I suppose we just have to acknowledge it and separate it or divert it. Or something...
We all try to be civilized and to temper some of our feelings, but somehow or other we shine our insides out. It goes the other way too, of course, that what we focus on becomes us. I am very interested in how people transform what goes inside.
By the way, I spent time with your namesake, my niece from Florida whose daughter was married yesterday.
Friko, I am so interested in the unfettered expression of individuals — unique, varied, fresh. You and I know what it is to be hindered by outside forces and begin to find the freedom to open years later. I'm awfully grateful for us.
Your Shropshire hills absolutely knock me out. I think Nature heals.
Dear Shaista, to be wild and free, to ride on currents of wind, to see ourselves this way while we live, and to let another slip away from us, what passages we see and feel, and something new and great introduces itself to us. May your life with Dawn keep dawning as she reveals herself to you, inside yourself.
Louise, one thing that strikes me about lilacs is how incredibly beautiful they are close up in their buds and in their openness, side by side. It is this time of the two together that I most enjoy them. It is fleeting.
Nelson, yes, I think so. When I wrote what I wrote to Erin, it was important to me to acknowledge that all is not flowery and beautiful in that sense of the lilac. But what is beauty? What lies within us is. Is it beautiful or not beautiful? I agree that to judge it as either or may be beside the point. To give voice to what is here inside, out of pain or pleasure, is a wondrous responsibility and fulfillment.
I do so love lilac florets, closed and open side by side.
It was brilliant spending a few moments with you yesterday. Love.
Brendan, sometimes I think I could choose something different every day, and bloom differently. Yet over time, I think I would still be recognizable in the forms around me, as would you.
I concur with your message to Erin about melancholy. Keeping it balanced with writing expression is key for me.
George, it's an interesting and sometimes wild garden we inhabit and grow in. I think if we understood the power of our blooming, we would be more mindful. I've learned (still am) this the hard way.
Dana, when I see a morel, I might as well have found gold. It will be fried up within an hour and eaten with Michelin three star pleasure. And they're free.
Thanks for your reflections, Mark. I think it's easy to preemptively fence ourselves in, hearing old voices recorded sometime that we aren't acceptable. Somehow I think that keeping on with the transformation, taking in what is outside, and re-expressing it the way we see it, is very important.
mmmmm each spring i walk through the woods spy the morel like a part of my soul I look on it long before picking I smell it it, this fungus, smells of fresh life nursed by death lovely post Ruth
Steven, thank you for your beautiful connections with Rilke's meditation on sadness, and for that image of "surface features being like keys to the deep mapping of the real world." The back and forth walk from inside to outside back in again constitutes the short walks of my life.
Margaret, I like what Nelson wrote too. He is my brother, and we explore the same home voices from the bookends of oldest and youngest, comparing notes.
I love the barn too, thank you. I hope it lasts another 100 years.
How special that Nelson stopped by, sister, and that you spent time with him the other day. I have been thinking of you every day since Saturday, wondering about YOUR take on the wedding. I'd love to hear from you.
In the meantime, the 'coming out' is such a bittersweet Journey. I often wonder if it's a Journey that's ever completed, and if so, if then it's time for another World?
Lilacs. One of my favorites, and so beautifully displayed. On this gloomy morning with promise of sun someday, but not today, these lilacs give me hope of spring.
Ruth, you say so much so sparingly. I have a wonderful tutorial on brevity by one of my favorite educational bloggers, adbroad. I'm going to have to post.
Our lilacs have not yet bloomed. I have cuttings from a Japonica in my favorite vase. They are spectacular. Can't wait for the lilacs tho'.
we are tiny explosions.
ReplyDelete((we are popcorn!))
beautiful imagines and sage words. (just a sobering thought though - what if what is in us is not as beautiful as a lilac, nor as innocent? what then?)
have a beautiful weekend, ruth. i've only a touch of melancholy hopefully soon remedied:)
xo
erin
Beautiful photographs and beautiful thoughts. I like it when what is inside of Ruth comes out. I remember reading that everyone reveals their truth sooner or later. At the time, I was trying not to face that truth, but it did come out after all.
ReplyDeleteYes, Erin, that was also in my mind when I wrote this. All that is within is not beautiful, but if it is within it will appear, somehow.
ReplyDeleteSome melancholy is not all bad, but I wish you much joy all the same.
order is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteallow it to unfold and be seen and a beautiful song emerges.
everything is beautiful until such time as it is stunted, spoilt, defiled, by outside action.
Yes Ruth, the way I described my walk is exactly as it is. Seriously.
Our friend Dawn passed away last night. These are the words I need to hear just at this moment. She takes the form of birds, and flowers. No dearth of them in summer. She always called me Little Flower.
ReplyDeleteShe loved horses, she owned two. She used to call them her Old Ladies.
The night before she left, I was imagining her riding bareback on a horse. I was in a car at the time, and picturing her, racing, keeping up alongside us, the whole journey long. xxx
Beautiful words and imagery.
ReplyDeleteOur lilacs are still hiding inside their buds. It will be a couple of weeks before the thought of appearing begins to push the boundaries of the shell of believing they will never appear.
Hugs
Nature does mirror what lies within! Love that second photograph Ruth.
ReplyDeleteI wonder, Ruth, if it is we who tend to judge that something "within is not beautiful" and consequently we try to hide it.
ReplyDeleteBlossoms are more beautiful than buds; yet buds must erupt (or, explode, to use erin's verb).
I like your concept that the [order of the] world finds its form from what comes to light.
Beautiful photos and beautiful thoughts too!
ReplyDeleteHave a nice day!
Such beautiful pix: bloom, vroom! James Hillman wrote in The Soul's Code that there's an amazing amount of imprint in the psyche -- call it fate -- which a life is then spent bringing to bloom. Our human nature -- how could it be different than nature's? And yet, as Blake said, "As the eyes is formed, such are its powers" -- meaning there is always nurture of the nature. Note to erin -- the bittersweetness of melancholy is one of the finest nuances of feeling I have known. 'S why so many creatives suffer it. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteit's truly amazing isn't it, how we unfold and grow from a pin point. sorta like the universe.
ReplyDeleteBlooming is not just for flowers. Lovely photos, Ruth! Have fun on your bike ride.
ReplyDeleteDoes this word ever get boring to you? - Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThis is the very definition of creativity, flowers of individual spirits that give shape and form to the external world. This is the lifeblood of human existence, every soul unfolding in accordance with the rhythms of some greater mystery.
ReplyDeletelilacs what a lovely scent----beautiful photos and words...c
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed your post today, Ruth. It is a wonderful meditation on nature and spring.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous pictures Ruth - even of the mushroom. I do have to admit that sometimes what's inside does feel more like that humble mushroom. But it's not really all that humble is it? It's prized for it's excellent flavor - so maybe I can be prized for what I think is not beautiful too. Hmm.
ReplyDeleteLove the second pic -so romantic!
ReplyDeleteThe poem itself is a kind of seed that lands in each reader a different way. I find Erin's question as well as your response to it fascinating.
ReplyDeleteruth this writing very gently opens the entire piece around the notions of interior and exterior. i like the idea that the outer world provides order in the form of the surface features that we can then name and describe. those same surface features are like keys to the deep mapping of the real world. in this way i like rilke's thinking around the place of sadness as being of similar value to joy: " you mustn’t be frightened if a sadness rises in front of you, larger than any you have ever seen; if an anxiety, like light and cloud-shadows, moves over your hands and over everything you do. you must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. " steven
ReplyDeleteExquisite beauty here! Love that unexpected mushroom!!
ReplyDeleteHmmm. Just such a wonderful poem, and I like what Nelson wrote. That often what we think is not beautiful inside us often is. Injust love your barn in the background, so solid and strong and I afore the color of it.
ReplyDeleteand also,
ReplyDeleteyou know what warms my heart...
the fact that this morning I told myself I must go out , rain or no, and photograph the lilac buds outside my kitchen window finally popping open, the mix of becoming and being and yet to be..
I didn't in the end, but you did.
Perfect. Have been pondering lilacs, but you have said all that needed saying. Thank you. (How wonderful that you are just coming into that scent, as it is gently leaving here!)
ReplyDeleteTo erin: There is always that side--and that fear. I suppose we just have to acknowledge it and separate it or divert it. Or something...
Beautiful lilacs! I love morel mushrooms dipped in egg and flour and fried up. I have great memories of hunting for them as a child.
ReplyDeleteDear Shari, you are sweet to me.
ReplyDeleteWe all try to be civilized and to temper some of our feelings, but somehow or other we shine our insides out. It goes the other way too, of course, that what we focus on becomes us. I am very interested in how people transform what goes inside.
By the way, I spent time with your namesake, my niece from Florida whose daughter was married yesterday.
Friko, I am so interested in the unfettered expression of individuals — unique, varied, fresh. You and I know what it is to be hindered by outside forces and begin to find the freedom to open years later. I'm awfully grateful for us.
ReplyDeleteYour Shropshire hills absolutely knock me out. I think Nature heals.
Dear Shaista, to be wild and free, to ride on currents of wind, to see ourselves this way while we live, and to let another slip away from us, what passages we see and feel, and something new and great introduces itself to us. May your life with Dawn keep dawning as she reveals herself to you, inside yourself.
ReplyDeleteMuch love.
Louise, one thing that strikes me about lilacs is how incredibly beautiful they are close up in their buds and in their openness, side by side. It is this time of the two together that I most enjoy them. It is fleeting.
ReplyDeleteHugs back to you.
Bonnie, the cycles under the sky are a never-ending source of inspiration and renewal. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteNelson, yes, I think so. When I wrote what I wrote to Erin, it was important to me to acknowledge that all is not flowery and beautiful in that sense of the lilac. But what is beauty? What lies within us is. Is it beautiful or not beautiful? I agree that to judge it as either or may be beside the point. To give voice to what is here inside, out of pain or pleasure, is a wondrous responsibility and fulfillment.
ReplyDeleteI do so love lilac florets, closed and open side by side.
It was brilliant spending a few moments with you yesterday. Love.
Thank you, Sonia! I hope all is well for you in Brazil.
ReplyDeleteBrendan, sometimes I think I could choose something different every day, and bloom differently. Yet over time, I think I would still be recognizable in the forms around me, as would you.
ReplyDeleteI concur with your message to Erin about melancholy. Keeping it balanced with writing expression is key for me.
Ellen, the pattern is everywhere, rippling, radiating. I wish freedom for all of us.
ReplyDeleteBarb, I added a mushroom as an illustration of your comment. I could just as easily post a photo of one of your grandkids.
ReplyDeleteBabs, not a chance. :-)
ReplyDeleteHi, Rosaria. We have to live in the anticipation of the bloom as much as its arrival, no?
ReplyDeleteGeorge, it's an interesting and sometimes wild garden we inhabit and grow in. I think if we understood the power of our blooming, we would be more mindful. I've learned (still am) this the hard way.
ReplyDeleteThanks, C.M.. My visiting daughter cut some lilacs and put them in a vase . . . I thought I'd faint from the pleasure of the scent.
ReplyDeleteI prefer to think of the inside being as delicate and fragrant as your lilies, Ruth <3
ReplyDeletebetween the scent of lilacs and the taste of morels, spring is a heady season!
ReplyDeleteI like the images and the thoughts presented here Ruthi.
ReplyDeleteI never realized that lilac buds just prior to exploding into flower, look an awful lot like literal heads under a hooded sweatshirts.
Patricia, spring is good for seeing how I can be renewed.
ReplyDeleteDana, when I see a morel, I might as well have found gold. It will be fried up within an hour and eaten with Michelin three star pleasure. And they're free.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Emille. I love looking this closely at lilac florets open and closed, like a bouquet in one blossom.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your reflections, Mark. I think it's easy to preemptively fence ourselves in, hearing old voices recorded sometime that we aren't acceptable. Somehow I think that keeping on with the transformation, taking in what is outside, and re-expressing it the way we see it, is very important.
ReplyDeleteMay I homestead here? :)
ReplyDeletemmmmm
ReplyDeleteeach spring
i walk through the woods
spy the morel
like a part of my soul
I look on it long before picking
I smell it
it, this fungus, smells of fresh life
nursed by death
lovely post Ruth
Steven, thank you for your beautiful connections with Rilke's meditation on sadness, and for that image of "surface features being like keys to the deep mapping of the real world." The back and forth walk from inside to outside back in again constitutes the short walks of my life.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Marcie, it felt important to add the morel and its brain-like bloom.
ReplyDeleteMargaret, I like what Nelson wrote too. He is my brother, and we explore the same home voices from the bookends of oldest and youngest, comparing notes.
ReplyDeleteI love the barn too, thank you. I hope it lasts another 100 years.
Deb, it's teamwork.
ReplyDeleteDS, I did not know you are that much farther ahead of us in the lilac blooming. But Lesley tells me the same.
ReplyDeleteYes, what to do with what is inside and perceived as not beautiful? Find a loving ear, in the flesh or a white page . . .
Oh Reena, such a delicacy, these morels. I'm delighted you have known them so long. I only found out about them after moving to this farm 7 years ago.
ReplyDeleteMore Than Meets the I, sometimes it is delicate and fragrant, yes!
ReplyDeletePauline, heady, and fleeting. I enjoy it intensely, every scent and taste.
ReplyDeleteDusti, thank you.
ReplyDeleteThey do look like hoodie heads, don't they? Modern monks.
Amy, there's plenty of room, come on over!
ReplyDeletelc, morels ah, part of my soul, yes. Little suns in the woods. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteHow special that Nelson stopped by, sister, and that you spent time with him the other day. I have been thinking of you every day since Saturday, wondering about YOUR take on the wedding. I'd love to hear from you.
ReplyDeleteIn the meantime, the 'coming out' is such a bittersweet Journey. I often wonder if it's a Journey that's ever completed, and if so, if then it's time for another World?
May you never tire of sparking our imaginations and deepest thoughts.
ReplyDeleteAnd much delight is yet to be revealed. :)
Oh so beautiful.....suddenly, i want to tiptoe bare feet around those lilacs ....
ReplyDelete... and for each season (maybe especially spring?) we are amazed by the beauty of nature!
ReplyDeleteBoots, I hope to get to wedding photos soon and will tell you about the wedding.
ReplyDeleteWhat an unfolding our coming out is, we learn even what we have held secret from ourselves.
Thank you, sweet Susie. :-)
ReplyDeleteHello, Moi! Thank you.
ReplyDeletePeter, she keeps renewing us.
ReplyDeleteLilacs. One of my favorites, and so beautifully displayed. On this gloomy morning with promise of sun someday, but not today, these lilacs give me hope of spring.
ReplyDeleteRuth, you say so much so sparingly. I have a wonderful tutorial on brevity by one of my favorite educational bloggers, adbroad. I'm going to have to post.
ReplyDeleteOur lilacs have not yet bloomed. I have cuttings from a Japonica in my favorite vase. They are spectacular. Can't wait for the lilacs tho'.
Jeanie, the lilacs just keep blooming, even today, nearly a week after your comment. We have a dark plum one that is blowing me away, and it's huge.
ReplyDeleteThanks, California Girl.
ReplyDeleteI don't know Japonica, but in the images I find on line, some of them look like quince.