~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
I gaze out the door at the trees,
bare now, atop the southern hill.
I remember all over again
how much I love these winter trees,
how they never fail to speak
to something inside me that relates
to them somehow, at least as neighbor.
I listen to them this windless day
as they gather, it seems, in council,
perhaps to share their dreams.
I wonder if I am in their dreams
(that woman down there
who sings to the morning birds)
the way that they’re in mine.
12/06/24
5:10 pm
The gray of the overcast twilight sky is subtly tinted pink and the snow on the hillside reflects it. The scene touches me somehow and reminds me that this is a holy time. I feel the energy of it: Love. Nostalgia. Hope. Suspense.
Ribbons of light stream past on the highway below as people drive home from work, anticipating the evening ahead.
The kid in me gets excited at the sight of the red and yellow lights that line the roof of a semi’s big trailer as it climbs the western hill and disappears around the curve that heads down into town.
This childlike delight is a part of the season, too.
Think of the face of a three-year-old gazing at the Christmas lights, at lacy flakes of falling snow. Such wonder!
On this day of the first December ice,
I quietly whisper my final farewell
to autumn, and admit that winter’s
begun to sneak in. As we put the year
to bed, we ought, I think, send it off
to dream wondrous dreams
by telling it a fine story. Perhaps
a story about a little pine tree
and his adventures preparing
for the great Festival of Light.
Yes. A fine year-end story indeed.
(Stay tuned!)
Fallen branches rise from the creek bed
like the sloughed off antlers of a deer,
the ancestor, perhaps, of one bedded down now,
deep in the woods, hiding from the hunters.
I wish him good cover and safety for the season.
The color of the fallen leaves that blanket the woods
matches his pelt I see. Nature provides.
I imagine him standing by these waters
at dawn, drinking his fill, then disappearing.
Let the hunters go home empty-handed.
It is a great gift just to roam these banks.
Let the creek’s peace be your prize for the day.
I wait for these, these sycamore leaves and oaks,
the last to fall, some of the sycamores larger than my face,
all of them larger than my palm, and so rich in color.
This is the quilt’s top layer, the topmost shield against the snow,
coming soon now, soon. But not today. Today is still mild,
and the burnished umber of the fallen sycamores and oaks
spreads itself beneath the tall trunks of the mighty ones
who bore them. I breathe their fragrance, their songs
rustling around my ankles as I walk.
After you ask, be at ease
and go about your way
knowing that, in its perfect time,
your request will be granted.
Keep your heart light, your mind
open, your trust a matter
of course. Then surrender,
and go where you are led.
Believe this. The earth is filled
with goodness, and jewels gleam
everywhere.
On any given tree, there are those who,
like race horses chomping at the bit to run,
are filled with eagerness to soar the instant
they are granted their colored flying suits.
Others wait for just the right blue of sky,
the perfect pitch of the wind, and they fly
in great flocks, like starlings flying over fields
of harvested corn. But a few hold on until
the last, gathering in one more glimpse
of the woods, of the earth, of sky
as long as they can. I would be one of those,
tucking every morsel of it into my heart,
glad for each earth-moment that I got to live,
destined for home now, twirling in joy.
Now is the time for wishes and dreams,
for spinning your hopes and casting
your seeds. Let them fly. Toss them
to the sky, believing. Let them sail
along the secret trails that destiny
weaves through the seasons and times.
Let them go. Then sleep your winter sleep
my child, until wonder wakes you in a land
of warmth and fragrant green, where birds
float to music and all your best wishes
come true.
I work here, in my studio, peering over my laptop
through these panes of antique glass,
noting the way hours change things.
Near the start of October, on a whim,
I decided to photograph the view in a series,
spanning time. Over the course of a few days
I fell in love with a particular leaf that danced
at the farthest tip of a branch
directly across from my window. It was broad
and healthy and green and loved the wind.
Last Sunday I blinked and it had turned bold yellow.
This morning I blinked and it was burnt orange ,
and now the last one on its branch.
I snapped its picture, then dashed off to run
the day’s errands. And when I returned,
it was gone.
Isn’t it interesting, I said to myself,
how the end of even a maple leaf’s dance
can leave such a void in your heart.
Back in 1971, a beloved comic strip character named Pogo uttered a statement about human nature that’s still repeated to this day.
On Earth Day of that year, the cartoon showed Pogo, who was an opossum, walking through a forest with his friend, Porkypine. Porkypine tells Pogo that the beauty of the primeval forest touches his heart. Pogo, who is walking somewhat gingerly on his tip-toes, replies, “It gets me in the toes!”
It’s the next panel of the cartoon that holds the famous line.
Porkypine and Pogo are resting at the base of a tree overlooking a meadow that’s become a vast junkyard, full of cans, broken bottles, rusting cars, papers, dead appliances, tires. Not a living thing can be seen. Porkypine agrees with Pogo saying, “It is hard walkin’ on this stuff.” Then comes Pogo’s famous line:
“Yep, son. We have met the enemy and he is us.”
The truth of that is certainly clear to us when we decide to clean up a bit of the junk that’s littering our own inner landscapes by ditching a habit that we no longer want in our lives. The part of ourselves that’s the enemy appears as a Temptation.
Temptation is a sneaky guy, wily as can be. But here are three tactics you can use to defeat him.
Temptation is an alert telling you to pay attention, that an arch enemy has entered the scene.
As soon as you notice it, imagine a mighty invisible shield falling between you and the temptation. This shield has the magical ability to stop time long enough for you to remember your intention to go in a different direction now.
As you create this mental scene, take a slow, full breath through your nose. Then sniff in a quick “topper” breath, to fill your lungs completely. Next, purse your lips and blow out vigorously as if you were trying to extinguish a whole bunch of candles on a cake. (Maybe it’s a birthday cake for a new, improved you!) Imagine the air blowing the temptation completely away.
If it’s a cantankerous temptation, you may have to blow a few times. But it will bring you calm and control.
Know your enemy. Think about what tactics he uses to defeat you. You’ve fought this battle before and succumbed to temptation’s trickery. Remember that everything he tells you is a deceptive snare woven of illusions designed to draw you in. The goods he delivers bring temporary gains, but spell your defeat once the moment’s satisfaction has passed.
Catch him in the act, and calmly decline his offer. “I see what you’re doing there. No thanks.”
Being cordial to your enemy disarms him. And you can thank him because this habit he’s tempting you to continue probably served some purpose in the past. You don’t have to remember what it was. You just feel like moving on, that’s all.
He might continue his antics; he knows he’s won before. Get the best of him by smiling as you turn down his offer again. Actually smile. A big, contented smile. And keep on repeating “No thanks. I have other things to do.”
Enlist a friend to remind you that you are a powerful being, capable of refusing anything that stands in the way of your being who you intend to be now. Tell your friend what you’re practicing leaving behind, and what you plan to do with the resources that leaving it opens up for you. Tell him that you could use his encouragement while you take your first steps down this new path.
Or make up an invisible warrior to stand at your side if you like, to reinforce you when temptation threatens. “You can do this” he says, grinning at you.
Remember, “What you practice you get good at.” That’s just the way it works.
So choose to practice being free to be the best that you can be. And keep on keeping on. Because the other side of what Pogo said is that we are also our own best friends.
Wishing you a week of victories!
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Denis Doukhan from Pixabay