week one

things i am noticing this week, bit by bit by bit (it is a slow and almost indecipherable thing, so gradual are these tentative baby steps): 

  firefly road.  my house sits up above the expanse of grass, on the right

i am beginning again to slowly savor my footsteps that walk along the surface of the earth:  this season, particularly, i am paying attention to the crunch and smell of dry, fallen leaves, the sharp crisp turn of the air, the deepest blue of october skies.  i am beginning once again to take note of where i am, to see the loveliness that unfolds around me regardless of my mood.  the world does not stop turning, just for me.  it continues to turn, the sun continues to set and rise, the days and weeks pass with a grace that only nature can teach us, this way.

i'm taking the time to be tender with myself.  a trip to the hair salon yesterday felt like luxury, and the time spent there lifted me.  after i came home, a friend wrote and asked if she could see a photo of the results - the light that runs now through my hair.  when i saw the photograph that i took and sent, i was gently surprised to catch myself smiling, unawares.  this was a miraculous thing.

 

this week, for the first time in well over a month, i spent a couple of days at the studio table, hammering and sawing and drilling and polishing, and this felt very comforting, very good.  i continue to be amazed at how straight i've managed to keep the surface of the table since i conquered the disastrous mess in the studio this time last year.  i don't think i'll ever let it get to that critical state again; the cleaner surface is a lovely thing, a lovely practice to maintain.  i straighten the day's work as i stand to walk out, just before i turn off the lights, and am pleased to walk in to an organized surface every single time i go through that door.  this is no minor thing.  the work that i turned out is for a retreat where i'll teach with two friends, 8.5 hours away in maryland.  i'm actually looking forward to the drive, looking forward to the adventure.  i'm not overly anxious about leaving home for a few days; the anxiety is still there (to leave walter at a kennel again for five more days is something that brings its own brand of angst), but is manageable.  this is also no small feat, and i acknowledge and honor this strength.

       i'm trying to make the most out of each hour of the day; i'm spending less time sitting and staring blankly, helplessly, into vapid space.  evenings continue to be my most comforting time of the day, when expectations for the day's accomplishments have been set aside, when i can sit quietly and simply be.  i've begun walking out the back trail, that opens from the back yard, at the last light of day.  i love standing quietly on the trail, in the midst of the woods, and listening for any sounds that might make their way to me.  standing still like that, not making any sounds of my own, i'm open to the call of an owl, the tapping of dry leaves moving with the breeze, the patter of the leaves that fall through the trees and down at my feet.  i'm not afraid when darkness falls around me; i have walter with me, ever the faithful companion.  we spend the last dying light like this, off in the woods, then walk through the warm light that waits for us inside the door.  there is such quiet beauty in that.

i've returned to the river several times this week, and have looked at it with familiar eyes, with eyes that appreciate the continuity.  at the farthest point of our walk, walter and i walk out onto a pebble beach, where i sift through the stones to find smooth ones i might choose to use in my new work.  throughout the years, i've gathered these stones for a variety of reasons, and purposes.  i've looked for shapes that remind me of the heart, i've looked for thin stones to drill.  when i came back from new zealand last year, i planned to find an assortment of them to drill and stack on leather cord like pearls, and the plan quietly took its place in a back corner of my mind.  now i search for stones that have a flat bottom surface, that have an oval or circular shape.  collecting them is like collecting coins that rest easily in my back pocket.  there are little piles of them in this house, everywhere.  i line them up, i drop them in a bowl, i place them on a windowsill.  rock smoothed by water:  how miraculous that seems.  i love the simple notion of that one quiet thing.  i continue to find hearts nestled there amongst the round and the irregular and the oval, the flat, the rectangles, the everything.  the hearts jump out at me, they beg to be carried home.  i carry them home, where they take up residence with walter and me.  xo

Comments

[Linda B.]

This is beautiful, Nina -- your hair, the moon photo, my mental image of you and Walter walking from the darkness into the light. Though we don't know each other, I am happy that you seem to be better. Do whatever it takes to make your precious life more beautiful.

[Tina in McLeansville]

ahh...there you are. welcome back. i've missed you. xo

[Denise S.]

Its happening and I am so thrilled for you my friend.

[Lauri]

Oh I am so happy for this flowing piece you've written~ Your delight with the sky, the sun, the stars - the beauty of the moving, flowing, ebbing earth is evident and returning to you. How wonderful! Go to Md. with a singing heart dear Nina, we'll be waiting to embrace all that you've done, and felt and witnessed, on your return to the place you love and call home.

[Barbara]

How Estrella Nina got her twinkle back ;)

[missy bendiksen...houston]

there is still wind beneath your wings.
don't forget that.

[Erin Perry]

I'm not surprised that this "coming back" has happened this time of year - autumn, so special in so many ways. Something about the drawing in of the autumnal evenings, the feeling of home surrounding us with warmth and safety and love.
This will be your "magic" year. I have a feeling next year's birthday list will be a positive joy.
Erin in Morro Bay

[tracey]

Nothing like having someone else wash you hair to make you feel special:) Women are the caregivers, not the receivers of care most of the time, and we have to remember to give ourselves care. We also need to care for the spaces where we create the art we love.
When I built my new studio last year, my first rule and blessing of the space was to clean it every night before I left. I still do that, so when I come in to work the next morning I say, hello studio, aren't you pretty this morning!

[teri]

I, too, take joy in finding rocks. They are delightful treasures nature left for us to discover.

[Katherine Langford]

Tender is the night. Savor.

[Angela]

Your hair looks gorgeous!

I am so glad your are doing better. Now I need to follow your example and get myself outside for a bit, be quiet and listen. What could be more healing?

[Sue]

What a joy to read your lovely post - just like past times!
Be good to yourself Nina. xo

[Michele Unger]

Bear hugs.
XO

[mary G.]

A lovely post, Nina. Thank you.

[Kim]

You sound positive and your hair and smile are lovely! Glad to see you feeling better, dear Nina. ((hug))

[Carol Weiler]

Oh your words are like music- lovely.

[susan]

You are looking beautiful, Nina. Take care of yourself.
And thank you for this very special post.

dusan xo

[Jess]

Oh Nina...Thank you for another lovely post!

[Maidi Murphy]

As ever a beautiful,inspiring sharing of yourself. Thankyou. What a wonderful start for you to the Red Thread Retreat! Wishing you everything you wish for yourself.

[Laura]

yeah, love everything about this post and you. love your hair...

[Vickie]

Lovely, lovely photo! That smile shows so much. Blessings to you and wonderful Walter.
vickie in kc

[Sophie]

As always, I am captivated by your beautiful words. This glimpse into your world is pure poetry and I am delighted that you are beginning to feel better.

[Diana B]

Nice to see you in a better place, m'dear. BTW, too long since we had a photo of sweet Walter, so perhaps you could turn the camera on him sometime soon and let us have a peek?

[sandra]

ahh...so beautiful...

[Martha A]

nina is smiling! YAY!

[Anna Maria]

Interesting your comment about evenings. I hadn't thought of it from an expectations point of view, but evenings are my favorite time as well since I have moved here, when I reward myself for the few things I have managed to accomplish during the day, by just sitting and watching a couple of silly tv programs and doodling or not.

[Katey]

I too am a collector of rocks. I've never collected heart shaped ones but because of you I do now and they pop out at me just like four leaf clovers do. I love reading this and thinking about you. Sending you my love.