Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Returning

By paying attention to the little things - the way the sun gilds the branches of the lilac by the door, the way warm water feels on my hands as I wash the dishes, the delicate taste of the honey I stir in my tea, the almost imperceptible sound of snowflakes as they fall - I can often quiet the frenetic pace of my thoughts.

Writing Down the Words


















Always, the need to come back, to return.

In the link above, Pauline of Writing Down the Words, describes beautifully and clearly the process of learning to live alone - the adjustments, the pains and the quiet, profound pleasures.

And she writes about mindfulness.

I needed to read it. I've been avoiding my frazzled and anxious self lately and substituting escapism. Too much television, junk food, aimless web surfing. A loss of connection.

****

I took the rubbish out before dawn. Most of the leaves have already fallen from the whitebeam and bare branches were silhoutted against the night sky. The air was cold and very still.

Nothing to run from here.

13 Comments:

Blogger Pauline said...

You've given me such an honor. I thank you! Your own observations of bare branches and evening chill are a good start toward reconnection. This idea of sharing is just one thing I love about blogging (an ugly word for lovely threads of thought).

1:04 pm  
Anonymous jess said...

Walking home from work last night, I saw that very same moon... it takes your breath away, doesn't it? Especially if you've missed seeing it for awhile, and suddenly it's there, huge and brilliant. It's there. It's still there.

1:44 pm  
Blogger zhoen said...

Went out for dessert night before last, and there it was, bright in the sky.

Almost didn't mind they'd run out of bread pudding.

4:14 pm  
Anonymous arevik said...

It is not the first time that I'm here. I really like your blog. I would often have written the same things as you (but not as well) on experiences which are very close to mine. Thank you. As we say in french: "courage!" and love from Switzerland.

6:10 pm  
Blogger rdl said...

ah escapism - i'm good at that and also practice the art of avoidance too. Nice post, you can even make taking out the trash sound nice. :D

9:24 pm  
Blogger herhimnbryn said...

Just so.

The Whitebeam, one of my favourite trees.

Thankyou M.

10:55 pm  
Anonymous Becca said...

The whole post - yours and Pauline's - helps me take a deep breath and live ... rather than claw my way through a too full day of appointments. Thank you, Mary (and I love the previous post as well - marvelous).

11:57 pm  
Blogger chuck said...

momentousness of quiet...the "still" center...words are but signposts...holograms that dissolve...

4:23 am  
Blogger Mary said...

Pauline: You're welcome. Thank you. :-)

Jess: Glad I shared the moon with you ....

Zhoen: ...and with you. Running out of ice cream would have been worse imo.

Arevik. Merci beaucoup pour ces mots gentils! So glad you dropped by and introduced yourself. Welcome.

Rdl: *make the trash sound nice*. Heh!

HHB: It's the closest tree to me, the one I see each morning when I wake up. I've grown to love it.

Becca. It's hard to find these moments at times, isn't it? Thank you.

Chuck: I love your comment. I've read it several times. It's almost asubject for meditation ...

10:50 am  
Blogger MB said...

I felt my shoulders come down as I read this. What a lovely moon.

9:04 pm  
Blogger MuseinMeltdown said...

A very powerful blog - in its simplicity and reminder to reconnect.

2:18 pm  
Blogger Mary said...

MB/Shani: Thank you both ....

6:23 am  
Anonymous Enlightenment said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

6:13 am  

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