I have a black, bomber style jacket, filled with thindown, underneath a shell, which is so light weight and comfortable, I find myself wearing it much of the time before hot weather sets in. I never thought much about it, other than I liked how it was made, and how I felt wearing it, but after letting the jacket speak for itself, while doing the suggested practice, I must say, I will never look at this article of clothing in quite the same way again. I realized this garment was not only functional but expressing a mindset. It not only is worn, but wears on me, as I interact with the world. It warms but also warns me to pay attention to the air that produces hot and cold weather, as well as suggesting a response to what is in the air of life's bigger picture. It is not just about the weather but "whither thou goest."
I am worn
Down
Minus the duck
I warm
Busy bodies
On the fly
I warn
Be
Wear
Take me on
Or off
With care
Before the air
Thank you, Carrie, for sharing this interesting practice, as well as your photo of the Irish countryside. It resonated with me as a thin space, where time and timeless meet, and as a beautiful visual to accompany your heartfelt words.
Thanks for a wonderful post. Ireland is still on my bucket list, maybe on my next trip to Europe. I want to find some bars where the locals still sing the songs I learned as a kid at folk clubs. I hope they still exist. Not the ones for tourists, but the ones for folk who have been going to those same bars for generations.
For me the item for reflection isn't a thing. It's any stretch of any dirt road, anywhere in the world. Who built it and why? What was it used for? What happened on it? Everyone who went through that little stretch of road had their own story, reason, state of mind, all of them different. I've had the good fortune to be paid to travel a lot of dirt roads for work over the last 6 months. Sadly, some of the most interesting spots have been too dangerous to stop on because they are narrow and the locals drive really fast because they know each corner, but they don't know that my car is stopped just a little way past the corner they love to drift around. My favourite one is in Avalon MS on the way to where Mississippi John Hurt used to live, because I think it probably looks exactly the same as it did when his great grandparents had their first home there. It feels fresh, but you can also sense the history of generations of people who went through that road on foot, on horseback, in a Model T or maybe an old flatbed truck carrying hay, cotton, or a van carrying groceries to Conley's store.
In a transcendent yet ordinary moment of right now, reading your beautiful reflection, I was acutely aware that my son and grandson are right now visiting Ireland/Scotland, awash with their own experiences of wonder, as I sit here reading yours - and time kind of just stood still in that awareness, or more accurately, disappeared in the shared experiences. I am t/here. Truly.
It's Easter Sunday as I read this reflection. That I have waited until now to open it is coincidence or providential, and lifting my spirit to a glorious level of contentment and awe. As a child I would take walks on the old dusty country road, marveling at the way sun glittered through the trees, the woodland creatures that scampered everywhere and the field of wheat that would appear at the top of a hill, the golden tassels of wheat rippling in the wind. That there is a spirit that enfolds the universe and dwells among us all seems so evident in the midst of nature's beauty.
Woven into the memories your story evoked is that you were recalling it from the Dingle Peninsula in Ireland. I was there 20 years ago and found it to be the most enchanting and delightful place I've ever visited. Again - by coincidence or providence, today we applied for our Passports to be renewed to return to Ireland and the Dingle Peninsula, where the past meets the present and my ancestors remind me of their presence in the core of who I am.
I've been reading Bliss Brain by Dawson Church in which he discusses meditation as a way to contact or be aware of the transcendent. While I agree with this, I think your post is a reminder that the transcendent is also present in the "sacred ordinary" if we allow ourselves to be open to it. Thanks!
When my now 33 year old daughter was very young, probably around 3, we were sitting on the floor together playing. I felt such a joy and honor to be there with her. I asked her how I got so lucky to be her mother. She just looked up at me and matter of fact said, "Well, before I was born, I was in Heaven and I decided it was time to be born. So I looked around at all the mommys to pick from and I picked you." Wow! How do you respond to such innocent truth? What a blessing.
Carrie, I love how your daughter inherited your way with words. "angels whispering in the branches" allows us to hear quiet sounds and appreciate how they can resonate in ways meaningful to us. I grew up under a 600 year-old oak tree that was always host to barn owls, honey bees, squirrels, and countless birds (even Anna's hummingbirds)... there were always so many layers of activity, I never tired of laying back to enjoy the show.
What a wonderful and insightful piece you have written here. But wait, everything you do is wonderful and insightful! Hope you come back to New England someday. As a previous commentator wrote "May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be at your back."
Very early this morning a group of us met at a trail on the outskirts of town and just down the road from my church, to hike to the ridge top for a sunrise Easter service. I must say going back down was much easier than going up!!
During the hike I listened to the forest, crunching leaves and twigs under peoples feet, the chirping of birds in the distance, the gorgeous sunrise that was seen from the ridge top. One of the ladies was smart and brought some bird seed, she filled a bird feed that was hanging in a tree on the ridge top. She also held some in her hands and actually had chickadees landing on her hand like a bird feeder munching on her he seeds. She also had one that landed on her hand and sang to her.
Later on once I was at home, I noticed my cat at the back window making chirping sounds as she called to the bird sitting on the fence outside. I just love the sound she makes, almost like she’s trying to talk to them. Others would be the purring of my cats like a calming song, listening to the rain during a rain shower, hearing different birds chirping in their on way outside my window.
I do feel expansive moments at ordinary times. Often they just seem to happen and at other times it happens during meditation or as an answer to prayer. Many years ago, I was driving on 1-65 with my sister from Indianapolis to Chicago at night. We got a flat tire and it happened in the middle of no-person land. This was before cell phones. Far ahead I noticed an overpass and thought maybe there's a gas station nearby.
So I left Therese in the locked car and walked to the overpass. Nothing was there. No gas stations, no stores, no houses. I felt afraid and wondered what to do. I stood on the overpass with the interstate below me. I just said a prayer for help and opened my self up to the spirit. Soon I felt a strong, expansive sensation, a powerful interconnection, the presence of the divine. Just as this happened a semi-truck pulled up and stopped on the side of the highway directly below where I was standing. I hurried down to it and knocked on the window of the cabin. At first, I saw a hand wave me away. I knocked again. This time the door opened and a tired truck driver stuck his head out. I explained my situation. He said he'd drive me to the nearest service station. So I got in the cab and he drove at least 10 miles to the station where he dropped me off and I thanked him profusely. Before long I was driving in a tow truck to help my sister in the car.
First let me say thank you so much for this beautiful and heart touching reflection.What a gift you have to make me feel like I was there: in Ireland, with your daughters walk and sitting in the Shaker chair. They are gift moments. For me it is the sounds of the morning...the cat's Good morning meow, the sounds from the lake we live on...ducks quacking, geese honking, birds chirping, herons calling. All are greeting me to start the day. It is an ordinary moment but a big moment because it wakes me up and makes me feel present.
Carrie, I've read quite a few of your newsletters and I think you've outdone yourself.
So rich and timeless. all while capturing the essence of one of my favorite places in
the world - The Ring of Kerry. Thank You and your daughter - I love the angels in the branches
I have a black, bomber style jacket, filled with thindown, underneath a shell, which is so light weight and comfortable, I find myself wearing it much of the time before hot weather sets in. I never thought much about it, other than I liked how it was made, and how I felt wearing it, but after letting the jacket speak for itself, while doing the suggested practice, I must say, I will never look at this article of clothing in quite the same way again. I realized this garment was not only functional but expressing a mindset. It not only is worn, but wears on me, as I interact with the world. It warms but also warns me to pay attention to the air that produces hot and cold weather, as well as suggesting a response to what is in the air of life's bigger picture. It is not just about the weather but "whither thou goest."
I am worn
Down
Minus the duck
I warm
Busy bodies
On the fly
I warn
Be
Wear
Take me on
Or off
With care
Before the air
Thank you, Carrie, for sharing this interesting practice, as well as your photo of the Irish countryside. It resonated with me as a thin space, where time and timeless meet, and as a beautiful visual to accompany your heartfelt words.
The Shoe
I kiss the Earth while I walk
Moving to and fro
Treading along sacred ground
Thanks for a wonderful post. Ireland is still on my bucket list, maybe on my next trip to Europe. I want to find some bars where the locals still sing the songs I learned as a kid at folk clubs. I hope they still exist. Not the ones for tourists, but the ones for folk who have been going to those same bars for generations.
For me the item for reflection isn't a thing. It's any stretch of any dirt road, anywhere in the world. Who built it and why? What was it used for? What happened on it? Everyone who went through that little stretch of road had their own story, reason, state of mind, all of them different. I've had the good fortune to be paid to travel a lot of dirt roads for work over the last 6 months. Sadly, some of the most interesting spots have been too dangerous to stop on because they are narrow and the locals drive really fast because they know each corner, but they don't know that my car is stopped just a little way past the corner they love to drift around. My favourite one is in Avalon MS on the way to where Mississippi John Hurt used to live, because I think it probably looks exactly the same as it did when his great grandparents had their first home there. It feels fresh, but you can also sense the history of generations of people who went through that road on foot, on horseback, in a Model T or maybe an old flatbed truck carrying hay, cotton, or a van carrying groceries to Conley's store.
In a transcendent yet ordinary moment of right now, reading your beautiful reflection, I was acutely aware that my son and grandson are right now visiting Ireland/Scotland, awash with their own experiences of wonder, as I sit here reading yours - and time kind of just stood still in that awareness, or more accurately, disappeared in the shared experiences. I am t/here. Truly.
It's Easter Sunday as I read this reflection. That I have waited until now to open it is coincidence or providential, and lifting my spirit to a glorious level of contentment and awe. As a child I would take walks on the old dusty country road, marveling at the way sun glittered through the trees, the woodland creatures that scampered everywhere and the field of wheat that would appear at the top of a hill, the golden tassels of wheat rippling in the wind. That there is a spirit that enfolds the universe and dwells among us all seems so evident in the midst of nature's beauty.
Woven into the memories your story evoked is that you were recalling it from the Dingle Peninsula in Ireland. I was there 20 years ago and found it to be the most enchanting and delightful place I've ever visited. Again - by coincidence or providence, today we applied for our Passports to be renewed to return to Ireland and the Dingle Peninsula, where the past meets the present and my ancestors remind me of their presence in the core of who I am.
Dearest Carrie, I did not realize how much I needed to hear this today. Thank you for sharing your wisdom through these beautiful stories.
I've been reading Bliss Brain by Dawson Church in which he discusses meditation as a way to contact or be aware of the transcendent. While I agree with this, I think your post is a reminder that the transcendent is also present in the "sacred ordinary" if we allow ourselves to be open to it. Thanks!
When my now 33 year old daughter was very young, probably around 3, we were sitting on the floor together playing. I felt such a joy and honor to be there with her. I asked her how I got so lucky to be her mother. She just looked up at me and matter of fact said, "Well, before I was born, I was in Heaven and I decided it was time to be born. So I looked around at all the mommys to pick from and I picked you." Wow! How do you respond to such innocent truth? What a blessing.
Carrie, I love how your daughter inherited your way with words. "angels whispering in the branches" allows us to hear quiet sounds and appreciate how they can resonate in ways meaningful to us. I grew up under a 600 year-old oak tree that was always host to barn owls, honey bees, squirrels, and countless birds (even Anna's hummingbirds)... there were always so many layers of activity, I never tired of laying back to enjoy the show.
Called to mind this from Rainer Maria Rilke:
“This is the creature there has never been.
They never knew it, and yet, none the less,
they loved the way it moved, its suppleness,
its neck, its very gaze, mild and serene.
Not there, because they loved it, it behaved
as though it were. They always left some space.
And in that clear unpeopled space they saved
it lightly reared its head, with scarce a trace
of not being there. They fed it, not with corn,
but only with the possibility
of being. And that was able to confer
such strength, its brow put forth a horn. One horn.
Whitely it stole up to a maid - to be
within the silver mirror and in her.”
What a wonderful and insightful piece you have written here. But wait, everything you do is wonderful and insightful! Hope you come back to New England someday. As a previous commentator wrote "May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be at your back."
My thoughts exactly
Angels are everywhere. Pause, listen, look, believe
What a beautiful reflection Carrie!!
Very early this morning a group of us met at a trail on the outskirts of town and just down the road from my church, to hike to the ridge top for a sunrise Easter service. I must say going back down was much easier than going up!!
During the hike I listened to the forest, crunching leaves and twigs under peoples feet, the chirping of birds in the distance, the gorgeous sunrise that was seen from the ridge top. One of the ladies was smart and brought some bird seed, she filled a bird feed that was hanging in a tree on the ridge top. She also held some in her hands and actually had chickadees landing on her hand like a bird feeder munching on her he seeds. She also had one that landed on her hand and sang to her.
Later on once I was at home, I noticed my cat at the back window making chirping sounds as she called to the bird sitting on the fence outside. I just love the sound she makes, almost like she’s trying to talk to them. Others would be the purring of my cats like a calming song, listening to the rain during a rain shower, hearing different birds chirping in their on way outside my window.
Thanks so much Carrie!! Enjoy Ireland!!
I do feel expansive moments at ordinary times. Often they just seem to happen and at other times it happens during meditation or as an answer to prayer. Many years ago, I was driving on 1-65 with my sister from Indianapolis to Chicago at night. We got a flat tire and it happened in the middle of no-person land. This was before cell phones. Far ahead I noticed an overpass and thought maybe there's a gas station nearby.
So I left Therese in the locked car and walked to the overpass. Nothing was there. No gas stations, no stores, no houses. I felt afraid and wondered what to do. I stood on the overpass with the interstate below me. I just said a prayer for help and opened my self up to the spirit. Soon I felt a strong, expansive sensation, a powerful interconnection, the presence of the divine. Just as this happened a semi-truck pulled up and stopped on the side of the highway directly below where I was standing. I hurried down to it and knocked on the window of the cabin. At first, I saw a hand wave me away. I knocked again. This time the door opened and a tired truck driver stuck his head out. I explained my situation. He said he'd drive me to the nearest service station. So I got in the cab and he drove at least 10 miles to the station where he dropped me off and I thanked him profusely. Before long I was driving in a tow truck to help my sister in the car.
First let me say thank you so much for this beautiful and heart touching reflection.What a gift you have to make me feel like I was there: in Ireland, with your daughters walk and sitting in the Shaker chair. They are gift moments. For me it is the sounds of the morning...the cat's Good morning meow, the sounds from the lake we live on...ducks quacking, geese honking, birds chirping, herons calling. All are greeting me to start the day. It is an ordinary moment but a big moment because it wakes me up and makes me feel present.
Ahhh, to feel fully present at any moment, that is a blessing and a rare gift.