Laughter & Light

Monica: Adriana & Kevin are my lifeline to civilization. Their home is home when I go on a supply run to Santa Rosa or need to pick someone up at the airport in San Francisco. I can drive the 2½ hours to their house and know that I am welcome there, that I will have a soft warm bed to sleep in, good food and wine, HGTV, and lots of laughter. It makes the long drive to civilization something I look forward to, an opportunity to see these precious friends.

Evelyn: Storms moving hurriedly, pushing through the trees and palms with stubborn effort. I found myself in the dark, quiet, noticing just how hushed things are when not even power is moving through. I hadn't realized how loud this space could be, even when sitting quietly, until there was nothing to make noise but the popping of my candles, the frogs outside, and my own breath. It feels nice here, like sitting among the legs of redwoods, the humidity from the storms buffering my sense of space, holding me, tentative and present.

Left

Evelyn: I go to the ocean to get grounded, to find some clarity and breathe. I listen, and as each wave crawls in and envelops my feet, I listen some more... to that deep place that is asking for my attention. This is where balance is felt, regardless of what my life is doing, and where I can get quiet enough to let my deepest truth move into me. Waves break down the uncertainty, and I soften into a conversation with all the parts of myself that feel disconnected, and it is here that I am wrapped in the sunlight, in the water, in the sand, and in my authentic sense of self.  Sometimes I keep good company in that place.

Monica: It was a long day. My last task was to drop a self-check packet in the box outside our office for a guest that would be arriving pretty late. It was just past 8:00 and I remembered that I hadn't taken any photos yet. I was just about to mutter my annoyance, when I saw this tiny frog perched on the self-check box. Instantly, my attitude shifted and I ran to get my camera. He was a willing model and stayed stock still, even when I grabbed a flashlight to help illuminate him. (I didn't want to blast him with my flash.) An hour or so later, I remembered to tell Michael about him and we went outside to see if he was still there. He was.

Entertainments

Monica: I visited the lighthouse today and caught the first wild irises and a lone heron stalking some invisible prey on the bluff. I loved watching how still and focused she became just before spearing her food, the epitome of grace in her frozen pose. Here she looks like she's enjoying the view, or perhaps trying to get a glimpse of the whales that are heading north with their calves.

Evelyn: Adventuring with a friend this evening, celebrating his 29th, filling our wells with Lemon Drops, New England Iced Tea, juicy Turkey Burgers, a charming movie, and some very cheap bowling. It was a spectacular shift for my day, one that started out emotional, with monkey mindfulness moving in and out of bands of peacefulness. Replaced by pleasant company, chatter that expanded all aspects of life, and warm connections, playful and easy. Sometimes I wonder if I should wear bowling shoes more often...

Sun & Rain

Evelyn: Today was filled with rain. It has been months since it rained more than a few sprinkles here and there... it feels welcome, and it sums up some of the feelings I've been handling in a slippery, tired kind of way. I want, as my brilliant Artist Way group expressed, to cocoon for a bit, wrap up with blankets and tea and hold myself close. I am uncertain how to settle down this tired energy that is storming around and moving in powerful fronts. I am feeling vigilant, wondering what I am listening to, wondering how the streaks of rain might clear my path or convolute my vision, wondering where it may all land, and what I will discover once the rain has all ended.

Monica: A full day of sunshine today, so to celebrate, I paid a visit to the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens with my camera. The rhododendrons were blooming magnificently and there was a rare species from China that had the most amazing scent. In the fall, a stunning dahlia garden is featured, but at this time of year the dahlias are mere twigs sticking out of the ground surrounded by cages. This  stunning tulip magnolia tree towered over the dahlia garden, and I couldn't help but exclaim "Look at you!" I have never noticed tulip magnolia trees before this year. They bear these enormous purplish-white flowers on their bare branches before they leaf. I can't get enough of them.

Two

Monica: We have a little ritual at the end of the day when we cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie. I rest my feet in Michael's lap and he pulls off my socks so he can crack my toes and massage my feet. I massage his neck and shoulders or scratch his back in exchange. What I didn't know until recently was the secret game he plays with my socks. He balls them up and tosses them one at a time into the living room, but he always tries to hit the first sock with the second, like croquet or bocce. One day in the middle of our movie, he suddenly exclaimed "YES!" out of the blue, and that was when I learned that all this time, he'd been playing this little game to see if he could hit one sock with the other. (Apparently it's much harder than it seems.) It's one more thing I love about him, his boyish mischief.

Evelyn: I treasure small glimpses of authentic tenderness shared between two people; whether friend, partner, or family, these little moments remind me of the depth to which we can love and honor each other. I was blessed to have a moment behind the lens to capture a simple graceful kiss, placed genuinely, devotedly, on the cheek of another. It touches the part of me that loves deeply, that desires connection and patience and tenderness in my life. It strikes me that the common beat of my heart, moving in a room of dozens of bouncing hearts, all murmuring to our own joys and sorrow, is connected and loved with all that it is to be human in the instant this kiss was witnessed.  This kiss, gifted and then gone, for just a moment remains through the eye of my lens, and is held dear.

Sparkling

Evelyn: I planted my toes in the soft warm sand and let small waves move over them, caressing each crevice, then softening the ground below. I collected thoughts of how the water, the bay, the gulf, all spill into one massively linked ocean that offers me a connection to my sister, to the continents, and the universe. I stood and made my call to nature, to wash over me with a job that holds dear my need for security, creativity,  collaboration, cooperation, and a strong connection with others through teaching. It is coming, riding on some wave I can not see yet, building momentum, eager to take me in, to place me into the world in a new way that uses my gifts fully. I feel hopeful, I feel accepting, I feel warmed and grounded and supported.


Monica: My mom called this morning just to say hello and just then, the sun broke through the clouds. Suddenly the world was glistening and bright. I opened the office door, stepped out into the sunshine in my bare feet and turned my face to the sun to feel the warmth of it, like a sunflower. I joked with my mom that I needed to get a much-needed dose of vitamin D while the getting was good. And it was good.

Water Drops

Monica: More rain, and I wonder if it will ever let up. Too many days of this and I become restless and depressed, craving the light and warmth of the sun on my face. It becomes too easy to stay cooped up indoors with a book and a bottomless mug of tea, but it doesn't dispel my need for sunshine. I have to keep reminding myself that the rain is a good thing—it purifies the air and nourishes the earth. And it coats leaves and flowers with great round drops of water that are fun to photograph, if I can stay still enough. 

Evelyn: Friday was a long day, full of travel and meeting new people, and soul care... and in a brief moment I had an unexpected photo-opportunity.  One of the herons I find most curious hung out in the retention pond in front of a clients office, doing his food dance. These creatures are oddly ugly and beautiful at the same time. Their heads are rough and speckled and leathery, their plumage white and elegant. They do a dance, shaking a leg under the water stirring up the algae and plants, while their beaks are spread open like a trap, awaiting any opportunity that might emerge. I watched for a good 3 minutes before he got spooked by my distance, and then both of us scattered off to our flocks...

Noticing

Evelyn: I have seen these flowers a billion times, but I can't help but stop and drink in the profoundly intricate way in which these flowers are built. They do not stay open all day, rather spreading themselves out in the sunlight, then curling back together at dusk. They are delicate and colorful—with a blend of purples and yellows against their leathery white petals. It isn't until I have the macro that I REALLY see the layers that make them so intriguing. The Art of Noticing—noticing on my way out the door from an appointment, noticing on my walk with the dog, noticing when standing for a moment digging in my photo-bag. This is what I love about my commitment to daily photographs: at least something gets noticed each day for it's beauty or difference or its ability to catch me in a moment and make me breathe.

Monica: It's been well over a week since I've put on my hiking boots and walked to the State Reserve across the way. We've had a good spell of rainy days and, to be honest, I've been terrified of spending any length of time outdoors now that I've noticed flowers blooming in force. I cringe to remember the horrible allergies that plagued me for nearly five months last year. (It didn't help that I spent a lot of time with my camera lens—and my face—just inches from grasses and flowers hurling their invisible pollens at me with every gust of wind.) Today, I took advantage of a lull in the downpour to walk down to the bluffs. Jug Handle Creek had risen considerably and was flowing fast to the turbulent sea. The muddy brown creek water mixing with the blue-gray sea reminded me of China, and how the jade green of the Wu melded with the muddier brown of the Yangtze at the confluence of the two rivers. I thought about the Wu becoming the Yangtze, and the Yangtze flowing into the Pacific, and the Pacific surging to meet Jug Handle Creek below my feet. Every place I have ever been or dreamed of going is contained in this water.

Bursting

Monica: Michael spends much of his chore time dealing with firewood. Splitting it, stacking it, hauling it, and stacking it again. Wood-burning stoves are the only heat source here and since we live in a climate that tends toward chilly most of the time, we pretty much have a fire burning 8-9 months of the year.

Evelyn: I love spring for the curiosities that happen... this fuzz ball seed came fluttering in through the open door and I immediately thought of Horton Hears a Who - in FACT - I brought it to my ear JUST in case. Reminds me that planting seeds happen in many ways - sometimes it is a soft fluffy process, but easily blown to new places, and sometimes it takes breaking an almost adamantine shell, holding that growth tightly until nothing else can happen but change. Feels sort of like my fuzzy mind lately - my inability to stabilize as I flit along looking for the best place to land... Somewhere in there is a seed ready to grow into something else, and for as much as I like the flittering around, I am really feeling ready to land.

Enthusiasm (or lack thereof)

Evelyn: I am in the process of a whole new set of adjustments, between the relative unbalance that makes one of my shoulders higher than the other, and has thrown off my hip the last 6 weeks, to the internal adjustments of relating to a significant connection in a new way. Lately I have felt tired, tired of worrying and the uncertainty of work and finances and health. Maybe today I have simply lost my enthusiasm (I think I may have slept on it funny last night, and it just needs to be shaken out from the sheets). Dragging myself out for some images, my neck complaining from the chiropractor's gentle touch, I observed that the lake is dried out enough that what once existed below the water is exposed and drying on the shoreline. The bleached white of a large turtle shell caught my focus, and when flipped I found the spinal column, rickety and dirty, but intact. It seemed appropriate, looked familiar actually, each vertebrae in its place. I thought of my x-rays, and how I so deeply want to be aligned: with myself, with my values, with my career, with my finances, with the people I love, with my life... and that is a process of gentle adjustments, a few deep stretches, and the support of the amazing people whose arms keep me steady when I am unsure.

Monica: Writing can be excruciating for me. I remember a time when words flowed unhindered from my pen. Sometime between then and now, I lost my fire for writing. I'm not sure what exactly happened. There I was, writing nearly every day,  excited about how I was going to spin the raw material of my life into a rich thread of words. Then something shifted in the world and in myself, and my attitude changed. I felt I had nothing to say anymore. My enthusiasm turned to apathy. And yet, I've continued to harbor the wistful vision that someday I will be a writer again. My family and friends encourage me and Evelyn gently reminds me that my words will be missed if I don't write them. So I force myself to put one word down after another, in the hopes that someday I will see the path clearly to the stories I need to tell.

Gathering

Monica: I was late going out with my camera today. The sun came out for a stretch, then vanished behind  steely clouds in the late afternoon. I procrastinated, hoping for something new to appear before me that would inspire me to grab my camera. I looked out the window and saw a couple of our guests, a young boy and his dad, playing in the driveway. The boy was chasing his father around until he got distracted by a long stick he found. He became totally absorbed in fashioning the stick into a new kind of tool or toy. I watched him, admiring how he surrendered himself completely to his imagination.

Evelyn: Mesmerized by the iridescent green glimmer of what I thought was a fly, but as I inched in to capture (literally) I discovered was instead a green bee. I am not sure if he was still celebrating St. Patrick's Day, or if it was some strange environmental anomaly that caused this transformation, or if possibly I am simply not aware of a species like this...but he held my attention in the cool breeze, flower wavering and jumping between his efforts and the spring air, and I thought how bold and brave I was to be inches from his work, without a concern or any fear.

Sunday

Evelyn: So to wrap up a week off, I got to celebrate the birthday of my friend Chris, who is now too old to stay up past 10pm, so we had to clear out by 9:30 from Kobe. The food and company were delightful, and the lighting remarkable for taking pictures at the Japanese Steakhouse. I so dearly appreciate feeling loved and accepted, and enjoy the relationships I am building with friends, and especially participating in the celebration of the life of a friend... put here, in my eyes, just for the gifts I get at this very moment in his presence. Happy Birthday!

Saturday

Evelyn: Justin competed in his first Rubik cube competition today, and we spend from 7:47a until 7:30p watching, supporting, cheering for, and logging the event on video. I am unbelievably proud of him, and loved the ease and confidence he had throughout the day, with like-minded spirits, discussing strategies for getting through difficult solves, laughing and joking, sharing cubes, making sense of techniques, and sharing ways to improve the spin-ability (I am sure there is a cuber term for that) of the Rubiks they held. I abandoned him with the clan for the "after-party" at Chilis - and realized how brilliant he is, and how quickly he is turning into a man.

Friday: Making Faces