When life speeds up, I want to slow down. As I change the tempo of my life, I notice my breath deepen, my pulse slow, and my gaze narrows its focus. I may fix my eyes for a while on something small that catches my attention: a lizard-y critter scampering along the lanai screen, a brittle leaf blowing across the driveway.
Before I knew better, I used to chide myself for simply staring into space. Now I regard such an impulse as a survival skill. Especially at this stage in my life. Especially now.
There is a Sanskrit word, drishti, which loosely translates as βfocused gaze.β After a brief trip out of the big city last week, I returned with a need to find balance, restore equilibrium again. Walking around my home intentionally, in spaces both inside and outside my house, I could slow down. The photos here have become the focus for my meditation for this past week, a collage of light and dark, sunshine and shadow. An altar in the world.
Inside
Outdoors
Blessed are you
who bear the light
in unbearable times,
who testify
to its endurance
amid the unendurable,
who bear witness
to its persistence
when everything seems
in shadow
and grief.
Blessed are you
in whom
the light lives,
in whom
the brightness blazesβ
your heart
a chapel,
an altar where
in the deepest night
can be seen
the fire that
shines forth in you
in unaccountable faith,
in stubborn hope,
in love that illumines
every broken thing
it finds.
Β© Jan Richardson from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons
Books to inspire
Wendell Berry, A Timbered Choir: Chronicles twenty years of the author’s walking through woods; a book of poems which pays attention to trees, fields, warblers, and light. Sabbath meditations.
Barbara Brown Taylor, An Altar in the World, A Geography of Faith. Invites readers to observe what’s easily overlooked; for example, the author regards the soft earth as a guest book where deer, turkey, snail, and a raccoon deposit their signatures, a parade of evidence that she has had company on her morning walk.
Temporal vs. Eternal
βThis checkered life we were living, patches of darks and lights stitched with tight threads, was beginning to reveal patterns, proof we were on a good path together, facing the same direction most of the time. Such commitment, however, does not ensure a trouble-free life as Cliff and I discovered again one Friday in 1994.β Β (Excerpt from Chapter 18Β My Checkered Life: A Marriage Memoir 2023)
Happy Valentine’s Day!
What prompts you to stop and stare?
Something you’ve seen recently that arrested your attention?
Any book titles to add to the recommendations here?
Happy Valentine’s Day to you and your sweetheart. I love to sit and watch the birds in the orchard across from us. Today there was a helicopter flying around and my little dog sat and watched it. So cute. She doesn’t normally sit and watch things. Have a great day! ππ
It’s so good to hear from Spain, Darlene. You can watch seasons change, having an orchard across from your home. Happy Valentine’s Day!
Good morning, Marian! Happy Valentine’s Day!
I’m focusing on the cat purring on my lap right now. π
You know I find many things to focus on. Yesterday morning, when it was dark and raining, it was a kitchen window screen with a splatter of light.
I was browsing around the internet, probably on Facebook. and saw your curious window screen. You have a keen eye for detail; I hope you enjoyed the shadow in the meadow, a shot that reminds me of you on morning walks sometimes. I hope you can take a walk outside today. Thanks, Merril!
Marian, I feel calmer just looking at your photos. Iβm glad you thought about slowing your pace since this post is the result of that. Brilliant! Love your collage of light and dark, sunshine and shadow!! And what a gorgeous view outside of your studio. I stop and stare at the sky, particularly clouds. So many interesting shapes!
Since Iβm reading a lot of childrenβs books, I can only recommend those. Here is a good one: Marvel at the Moon: 90 Devotions Youβre never Alone in Godβs Majestic Universe by Levi Lusko with Tama Fortner.
I’m glad this post hit the spot, L. Marie.
And I agree, clouds are fascinating and usually move slowly, very slowly across the sky. Thanks for the recommendation of Levi Lusko’s devotional. I have seen his wife Jennie on “Better Together.” π
A lovely meditation (and photos), for Valentine’s Day/Shrove Tuesday/Ash Wednesday sustenance.
But thanks especially for the reference to 2 Corinthians 4:18. It made me think in a new way about how Paul and Christians in post-Jesus times lived with the same questions and affirmations that we do today. When we doubt and wonder, this is a beautiful verse:
“. . . for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
Thanks, Marian.
Melodie, that verse came to me at the last minute. As you point out, it’s fine to enjoy the beauty of nature, but it’s all ephemeral; it will pass away. After all, we are pilgrims in this land and have the hope of a bright, eternal future. Thank you! π
Thank you, Marian!
You are very welcome, Jack! π
I love this. I have noticed that when I tell myself to stop and really look at something carefully – inspect it and ponder it – something profound always comes of it.
And on top of that, your body adjusts to a slower, happier rhythm. Thanks for noticing, Arlene! π
Wise words not just for those of us who are “old.”
Thanks for adding this, Susan! π
Marian, I often take breaks and gaze out of the window to my left while working at my desk. I observe the subtle changes of the seasons, and throughout the year, I am able to see birds and squirrels. It’s a refreshing visual diversion from staring at my laptop screen.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Once I saw a photo of your work space, and I remember a happy floral in front of your sightline, unless your room arrangement has changed. I can also visualize a window to the left, where there is action (maybe even mayhem) in nature. Thanks, Laurie! π
I enjoyed walking around your beautiful house and gardens, Marian. I can easily picture you in each place. And I love the texts you have woven through this post. My favorite picture is the one in front of the window over your writing studio.
Even though you were headed to see relatives on Florida’s west coast, Cliff and I appreciate you and Stuart going out of your way to visit us a few years ago. My valentine gifted me a fresh orchid with many more blooms for my writing studio today, so the yellow one is facing west now. Thank you, Shirley! π
I often write about the opera of the everyday, looking for joy and laughter in a mundane. What good is an opera without hushed moments, stunning backdrops and ethereal lighting? Thank you for sharing today. Happy Valentine’s! β€οΈ
You picked a good metaphor for describing your household on your blog. But I sense underneath all the “opera,” a family close-knit with love. Thanks, Jenn! π
Hi Marian, I found this post very interesting. I donβt like being around crowds of people and I donβt like cities and traffic. I live in a city and I like to escape to the bush. Sort of the inverse of you π
Yes, Robbie, I like the conveniences of our city, but we live in a quiet preserve, surrounded front and back with trees and a small lake. The photos here show how much I cherish this
setting. Thanks so much for sharing here! π
Love your photos, Marian! My mom, mother of eight, was a very busy woman working from morning to night to keep her family fed and clothed. But, I remember, when she finally sat down at the table she would just sit and get this vacant look on her face, just staring into space, getting her bearings back.
I love Jane Richardsonβs poetry. A friend gave me her book called βThe Cure For Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief.β I have read it from cover to cover and found much solace in it.
Elfrieda, I had not heard of the poet Jane Richardson until last week. Now you piqued my interest in exploring her other books.
About that vacant look: My Grandma Longenecker would say sometimes when she plopped down after a bout of busy-ness, “I need to let my soul catch up to my body.” I have no idea whether she heard this somewhere or made it up herself, but I think of it often when I feel “verklempt,” or whatever the correct spelling is. π
I like this post very much. Light is my guiding word this year and this plays right into it.
What prompts you to stop and stare? I stare at tiny decorative details and also try to make a point to look off into the far distance every day. Kind of the yin and yang of good eye health and life.
Ally, good eye health is part of having a good life, probably full of light–and JOY! π
As I clicked on your post to read, a movement caught my eye. I often sit at our little dining table, facing out towards the side yard, and our undeveloped lot. Just off the deck wandered a mama deer and her baby, no more than 6′ away. They had discovered our abundant new-growth grass, courtesy of seasonal rains. Usually they stick to the empty lot. Once the youngster spied us, it immediately moved to put mama between us. A treat for the morning! And it brought your post all in to focus.
Thanks for sharing the anecdote, Ginger, and so fitting too! I love the setting you describe with wildlife close by. π
Happy Valentine’s Day to you and Cliff, Marian! I know the “stop the world, I want to get off” feeling well. What will make me make stop and stare into space is walking into a sunlit room, particularly my living room. Any poetry collection by Mary Oliver would be inspiring.
Yes, I could stand to hear every day, Mary O. asking me, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do / With your one wild and precious life?”
I like sunlit rooms too, but every morning when the sun beams through the glass patio doors, I see dust. And every day I think, “I must clean that glass!” but I never do. At least not yet.
Maybe tomorrow. . . . Thanks for the nudge, Liz! π
It’s always good to stop and appreciate our blessings and the beauty around us. It’s been a different Valentine’s Day for sure. My wife is very sick with Covid, and I feel a little off tonight too. Still, we’ve got too many blessings to complain about anything.
Oh, no! Nothing like sickness to knock out the spirit of Valentine’s Day.
Prayers ascend for Debbie’s recovery–and for you too. From experience, I know that the spouse suffers along with the partner.
Thank you for checking in here all the same, Pete! π
I love the artistic expression here Marian, with your photographic and poetic play on light and dark. I really love the shadow of your hand. Brilliant! I have never heard of the word “drishti.” Thanks for sharing that concept of slowing down and focusing on things you see. When we allow ourselves, we can see so much more. β₯β₯ Great post!
You got what I was going for in this post, Melanie. π
About the word “drishti” — I spotted it first on an Instagram comment by Dani Shapiro. Because of her huge success as an author, she goes on extended book tours. She mentions that she makes a practice of focusing her gaze on something special she sees from the hotel room of whatever city she is located. That way she rests her eyes on something “familiar” to ground her for the days she is in an unfamiliar setting, a ritual she practices at home with an apple tree in her yard.
Thank you for that explanation, Marian. From what you said here, I’ve gone ahead and followed Dani Shapiro on Instagram. It sounds like she has some interesting things to say. π
Good for you! I’m a Dani Shapiro fan, for sure, and have read many of her books. She has written 6 novels and 2-3 memoirs + a book about writing: Still Writing. Slow Motion recounts a riveting family story; Hourglass, a marriage memoir; and Inheritance, which recounts her complex family origins.
She’s definitely my next memoir! Thanks for the recommendation, Marion. π
Those are wonderful, peaceful places, Marian. Your home and yard bring calm and favorite areas to be in. I sometimes miss that, as our home is tiny and mobile, often on the move. My peace comes from being in nature. Finding a comfortable, quiet camping spot always makes me want to stay longer. Mark always wants to leave before I do. We make compromises and aim for a balance. π
You’ve seen many of the nooks and crannies in our home and can probably visualize them as you read this post.
Liesbet, I think it’s remarkable how you and Mark make an itinerant life work; travel is intense living, for sure. And I believe you’ve hit on the secret of a companionable marriage: make compromises and aim for a balance. I see you have posted another piece about Bolivia. Time to check on progress. . . and (most likely) snafus! π
Hi Marian,
For some reason or another, I don’t receive your blog posts anymore, so I thought you were on a vacation from your blog. This morning, I decided to check your blog to see when you were returning, and I saw your Feb 14, posting, which I love very much. I also check to see if I had acciddentally unsuscribed it, but all was in correct by me. Anyway, I am glad I checked. I love the poem from Circle of Grace by Jan Richardson and will get it for myself.
Have a lovely day.
Shalom shalom