~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
Look how they stand, these two,
strong and holding their limbs high
as if in grateful praise, and this despite
fate’s assaults, despite the storms
they weathered so patiently, so sure.
See how they face the light, and how,
beside them, their companions dance
and raise their boughs in song.
Perhaps they know this day marks
a wondrous turning into some newborn
unknown. And look how strong
and glad they stand to greet it!
Of course you can’t walk among trees
and not look up. To miss those great limbs
with their thin twigs tracing calligraphy
against the sky would be a sin. And
besides, sometimes, the sight of their crowns
is enough to take your breath away.
I confess. In summer I give them
little more than a passing glance,
maybe a little smile or a touch
now and then. But winter has come,
and they call me, the skins of these trees.
Now I stare in awe at their colors,
at the textures and layers and designs,
each unique, each similar to the others
in its family. I could learn all their names.
But now I want nothing more than to see,
to get lost in the wonder, to find myself
moist-eyed as I drink in this song.
To see this familiar place with fresh eyes
was a gift. I felt as if I had never walked
these grounds before and now how beautiful
it all was at high noon on a winter day
with a cloud-veiled sun in the sky.
And how its quiet sang!
What called me was the long swath
of dried goldenrod, looking like a troop
of old men telling tales amongst themselves
as they kept watch over this sacred land.
I remember seeing them here in their youth,
all green seed and golden flowers.
How tall they still stand now, how glorious
the way the light touches their crowns.
The course description was accurate.
The lessons are subtle and it will take time
to understand all that is before you,
how to unravel the language,
to detect the rhythm and speed.
And after you have got that far
you can let it sink deeper, holding
your attention on it, naming nothing,
just giving it your whole self until,
with a bright spark, it touches the edges
of your understanding, pushing up
the corners of your mouth.
It will be like this now. Consider it
a class in neutrals and form.
The lessons are subtle and ask for
deep listening and observation.
Our kind, you may have noticed,
seems not to do that well. Most
can’t bother. Some persevere.
And it is for them that the season
comes, and lingers, whispering
its matchless secrets, hour after hour.
I’ve been gathering feathers for years now.
I keep these few in the miniature vases
of which I am so fond on the sill
of the window where I work in winter.
This has been their appointed spot
for a long while. Normally, my eyes
focus beyond them at the scene behind
the spruce’s boughs or at the boughs themselves
where sometimes a bird will light for a moment.
But the cold of the day has glazed the window
with sheets of ice and a garland of frost, directing
my gaze at the feathers, and I think how I love them
and the birds who gave them to me and the images
of birds they evoke in my mind, and the beautiful feeling
of freedom.
There’s something daunting about settling in at my keyboard to share some moments with you and then realizing, as I begin to type the date, that it’s Christmas!
I’m stunned. Do I need to be especially profound or something? Oh my! What does all of this mean?
I sit perfectly still, unable to form a single thought. My awareness is wholly caught up in the present, in the data my senses convey–the warmth of the room, the lamp’s golden light, the soft holiday jazz drifting through the air. From somewhere near the center of me, a stream of affection spirals into my awareness carrying images of dear ones, far and near. And the magic of the day wraps around me and sinks into me in glistening whispers of peace.
I like what I wrote about it yesterday, this most amazing moment in time: Its light touches us. Now each of us gets to decide how we’ll respond. “Who do you want to be in the light of this new day?” What a delicious question for morning to bring! It’s among her best, I’d say. “What will you do in this new day’s light?” What a gift!
I hope you know that I’m wishing you the very best as the year draws quickly to a close. I’m looking forward to traversing the coming days with you. Great challenges lie ahead. What a privilege to live in such momentous times!
I won’t keep you. I just wanted to send a Christmas hug, and to share a quote about the holiday from Mother Teresa that nicely sums things up for me as well. “It’s Christmas,” she wrote, “any time that you let God love others through you.”
To those of you who celebrate it, Merry Christmas. And to everyone, wishes for peace and joy.
Warmly,
Susan
What the woods had to say
on this Christmas Eve morning,
along with the snow covered fields,
and the creek, and the blue, distant,
cold. rolling hills, was simply this:
On this day, the light touches us
and we rise in joy. Be at peace.
You are loved, and All is well.
The place has its regulars. They come in shifts,
more or less, the little ones first, chattering
their hellos from the bare branches of the lilac
as I scatter seeds and sing my morning song,
then the woodpecker and the jays. The cardinal
had vanished for a while after the cafe closed
when I went on an October vacation. But lately
he’s been showing up from time to time.
I’m always so happy to see him.
I have a special space for him in my heart.
When I rose this morning, to my surprise,
snow covered the ground and the thermometer
read exactly 0 degrees. I opened the cafe
even before I had my coffee, and they fluttered in,
sweet dears, the instant that they spotted me.
Half an hour later, I glanced out the window
as I dished up bacon and eggs, and there,
more surprising than the morning snow,
a dozen cardinals had gathered, more
than I have ever seen at one time before,
at least half of them bright males, bobbing
down from the lilac, the females huddling
on the rocks in the new-fallen snow,
feasting together as if it was Christmas.