Spring, Insistently!

"To anticipate, not the sunrise and the dawn merely, but, if possible, Nature herself." 

~ Henry David Thoreau

Very busy today doing "necessary things", having just quickly taken my 13-year-old dog out and back in 20 minutes ago, she suddenly became rather anxious, insistent, pacing the room.

"Do you need to go out again?" I asked, thinking she had more "business" to do.

And so out we went - she is mostly blind and partially deaf and must be taken out on a leash due to the retaining walls and steps in the yard. Slowly she made her way up the little slope and stopped, sniffing the air best she could (her sense of smell isn't what it once was either).

She paused a long while.

The birds sang.

And then down she plopped in the grass in the sunshine and decided that's where she wanted to be.

Apparently she DID have "business" outside. Perhaps we all do. It's called Spring.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow....

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high..." 

~ The Wizard of Oz

Independent of the lyrics, this is what is playing on the radio as I begin to write, essentially the lullaby of which it speaks.  What a quiet joy it is to heed the gentle flow of late night Classical music, especially in these times.

Perhaps if we begin to breathe and listen very closely, we might begin to realize that what we seek is not up high at all.  It is not far away.  It exists without the seeking.  The Rainbow is within.

Robin Dear...A Joyful Sign for the New Year!

"All the world is fresh and sweet...flowers blossom at my feet..." 

~ from a song about Robins in Springtime my mother taught me as a young child

Observed outside my window, just a few minutes ago....

While growing up in Colorado, the first Robin of the year was indicative of Spring, but here in the Pacific Northwest, it is never really winter. So perhaps the sign here for the New Year is to look for "Spring" each and every day!   (And remember, other seasons are nice, too!)

P.S.  Upon searching for the song I learned as a child, I was quite surprised I couldn't find it online!  I only found inexact fragments from schoolbooks dating to 1907.  This is my best recollection from the age of 3 or so, as my mother helped me to sing this song over and over and over again multiple years in a row (a few words highlighted with [] may not be exact, but very close)...when I would forget the words from the previous year, she would remind me.  I would like this to be preserved somewhere for history because it was a real song I learned around 1967, almost surely taught to my mother when she was a young child of immigrants in the New York City area (probably just across the border in New Jersey) around 1930-33.

Robin dear, I love you so
I really wonder if you know
Where the [little] flowers grow
Hidden deep beneath the snow

I've been waiting for your coming, Robin dear
And I know you're [singing,] singing Spring is near   [?]

All the world is fresh and sweet
Flowers blossom at my feet
Life [in] Joy is so complete  [?]
Robin dear!

Beauty, today...

"This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." 

~ Genesis 28:17

Music and Dancing and Beauty today....(the ticket for a modest yet perfectly wonderful seat a little gift I gave myself at Christmas)...

A young girl was sitting next to me, playing with string, an aspiring ballerina.  Just before the lights began to dim, she created Jacob's Ladder...and in that precious moment, I remembered how, too...

Sunrise

It lasted a moment or two
or a little bit more
And that was plenty
Now unseen, yet seen.

"Nature Religion" at my Door

"Forgive me that I cannot kneel

And worship in this pew,

For I have knelt in western dawns,

When the stars were large and few"

~ "God's Creed", Ella Higginson, 1861-1940

It's a rare morning when the front page of a city's newspaper shares the heartfelt words of Ella Higginson, a poet laureate of Washington state.  I'm happy to discover Ella - she and I are clearly kindred spirits on the path in many ways.

The excerpt from her poem God's Creed appeared in the following story:  Do you see God in a sunset?  "Nature religion" may be the signature spirituality of the Pacific Northwest.  

Apparently another study (this one by Baylor University) has awarded Portland the distinction of being the most unchurched city in the entire United States - and Oregon the most unchurched state.  

This particular study took a rather unique approach: 

"Researchers compared the richness of natural amenities in every U.S. county to religious adherents per 1,000 people.  They found that areas with higher rates of amenities have lower rates of religious adherence."

I'm not at all surprised.  Like Ella, I walk the passages of "Nature's church" most days of the week, and even when I must remain at home, my church sends missionaries to my door.

Transistor Radio Summer #7: Feelin' Groovy

"Slow down, you move too fast, you got to make the morning last..." ~ Simon & Garfunkel

On my way to an early morning dentist appointment (when I really wanted to be on my morning walk instead), this came on the radio.  It surely had a presence on my transistor radio, long ago.

No matter what you are doing this morning (or any other time of day), no matter how you feel, take the time to listen, and to smile....

[LINK REMOVED]

Joy in the moment happens, every day, if you choose to look for it....

Transistor Radio Summer #5: Rocky Mountain High

"You might say he found a key for every door..." ~ John Denver

I grew up in Denver with the wonderful John Denver, his musical creations flowing through my days for years.  I can't remember the first time I saw John Denver at the legendary Red Rocks, but I know it was more than once.  I was surely listening to this song already in the Summer of 1973.  I play it often still.   It too is all about Awakening.

I tried to touch the sun a couple of times.  I took it into myself.  But I didn't need to take it in at all.  It was a part of me all along. 

Transistor Radio Summer #4

"A real celebration..." ~ Saturday in the Park, Chicago

And now a song on a Saturday, one I surely did hear on many a Saturday through and beyond my transistor radio, starting in 1973.  I really liked this one, from the start.  It's about Awakening.

Every day's the 4th of July...

Transistor Radio Summer #1

"For we can fly!" ~ The 5th Dimension

I will find it if I look.  My red transistor radio from radio summers long ago.  There were many radios growing up - this was only one of mine, amid the household record players.  

Music was much different then, it seems, the 70's.  It could fill a home to overflowing, or drift in through the windows from the house across the street.

I have a special memory, from a very special Source.  It was my first synchronicity, the first I can recall.  I didn't have a label for it.  But I never did forget it.

It was some time near the end of June, and I was in the basement listening to the radio in my oldest sister's room.  The basement rooms were best of all in summer - upstairs all we had were fans.  

"Up, up and away in my beautiful, my beautiful balloon...."  It was surely 1970, this song a few years old, and I was 6 years old.

Someone shouted from upstairs and then came running down. "Balloon!  S-----u-----e  Balloon!"  It  was my oldest brother, and he was already running up again.

I quickly made it up the stairs, leapt out the door to the garage, then out another door, and raced across the lawn of our backyard, to where he pointed with a smile.  He loved to show me wonders in the sky, a weatherman in training.  

And there it was - in rainbow colors, rising, silhouetted by the Colorado mountains, our partially constructed chain link fence below, reflecting in the sun.  The fence to me was almost every bit as interesting as the balloon. It was about to hold a puppy.

I marveled that the summer skies had listened to the song, and for many years I wondered.  I didn't have a label for it.  It was The 5th Dimension.

Simplicity

"I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars." 

~ Walt Whitman

As I was on my walk today, a delicate pattern at my feet captured my attention.  I cannot really know what the winter winds had left upon the ground, but I stopped to breathe, observe and celebrate the grace of its simplicity.

Winter Reflections of a "Lady" called Susan...

"But, first, remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs..." 

~ C.S. Lewis 

 

 

This is part of the view from one of my windows.  At night, a golden glow seeps in.  

I could choose to reflect on the "starkness" of winter (or the "starkness" of a view).  

Or I could choose to reflect on "Narnia".  

Did I mention the stand-alone "wardrobe" upstairs?  

There exists a magical forest...

Three Words

"Enjoy Every Day"

Today I encountered these three words, reminders from Harold and Barb...

The Three Words.

The View.

The Path.

Thankful...

An "Important" Reminder...

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year." 

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

On my way out the door to the woods far too early this morning, the phone rang.  Reluctantly I answered.  It was "business".  Something "important" to do, more than one something actually.  With a sigh, I "had to" stay. 

Before long, the computer froze.  I had to restart it.  Then I found myself printing and printing and printing the same "important thing" multiple times, a form to fill out by hand.  My hand wasn't working so well, so I had to redo it.  And redo it.  And redo it.  And redo it.  (About 6 times of redoing!  And each time, I had to reprint it again.) After enough "important" iterations, the printer jammed and stopped altogether.

We can choose to let "the important" be told to us.  Or we can choose to decide what is actually The Important.

The instant I decided I needed to leave, the printer cleared, and within just a few minutes, the form was completed and sent.  There was another task waiting, something also "important".

I left anyway. 

I stood by the stream a long while.  There is only one place where I find my way down to the stream.  It's not a spectacular view there, not particularly.  Most people pass the spot without even looking, as you can't see the water at all from the trail.  I could sit there for hours, listening and listening...some views are meant to be heard more than seen.  And the more that you hear, the more that you see...

As I "listened" today, something came through....out of the blue, there it was...the very thing left undone...I wrote it by the stream, no printer required, "office space" provided by Earth, Unincorporated, on lease in a far different sort of a way.

Breathing again, I took to the trail, the weight of "the important" so very much lifted, the knowing of what is truly Important made abundantly clear....We often forget, but The Important reminds us.

Near the river, I saw her, a bit in the distance.  

The woman with a walker.  

A companion patiently, cheerfully walked along by her side.  At least a half a mile in, bundled up for the cold, what appeared to be a very old woman made her way step by step, her walker miraculously sound on a path filled with rock.

It seemed I wasn't "late" after all, my walk perfectly timed.

We so often think we must rush our way through our lives, "the important" stealing our very best moments away.  We don't need to rush.  Our Hearts know the pace.  We are fully supported every step of the way.

In the forest I stopped off the path to do some more "work".  And then I heard laughter winding its way through the trees.  There she was with her mother - a child of no more than three, joyously stomping through golden leaves at her feet.  I imagined her bringing smiles to the woman with the walker, this dear lady it seems not yet making it to the woods.

Losing track of the time by the river, I eventually got to the end of the trail.  Guess who was sitting on a bench at the viewpoint?  The woman with the walker, enjoying her lunch.  She looked to be in her mid-80's at least!  Young, old and everywhere in between, we had chosen together on this unusually cold day.

Life is astonishing if we allow it to Be.  We can choose to hear and see Beauty, breathe as much as we can, every day, every moment, from beginning to end.  Today I was reminded of what's truly Important.  (Yes, perhaps next time I'll take along my lunch too!)

Finding Lost...

"Not all those who wander are lost." ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

"Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt." ~ John Muir

I wandered a completely unfamiliar series of trails early this morning with a wonderful friend I hadn't walked with before.  

It was as if everything conspired to ensure we would have no maps to follow.  When we arrived at our destination (slightly lost on our way there), a rather large group of young people persisted around the map, cigarette smoke unpleasantly filling the air.  We both decided not to linger and headed down a trail.

It turned out to be a loop, fully paved, and although we still didn't exactly know where we were going, our path quickly brought us back to exactly where we began.

So we chose yet another trail, this one all dirt and far more promising, still with no idea of where we might be heading, and perfectly happy with that.  It was a park in the city after all - how "lost" and how "far" could you actually get?  But when that city is Portland, Oregon and its very near outskirts, what one might consider "city" is quite beautifully redefined.

I don't get into "the city" very often, and definitely not on its trails, as I usually walk in what really is "the country".  So this was a bit of a new adventure for me. 

The next trail was somewhat wilder, as wild as these trails tend to go, perfect really, winding through wonderfully wooded hillsides.  There were plenty of people on it.  We chose a couple branches here and there, each with promising names about forests and trees, names I now have completely forgotten.

Eventually after a few miles, we ended up by a road, on a paved trail again, anticipating breakfast.  We saw just the sign we were looking for, surely right next to the place we had started. But it wasn't at all where we thought it was, as we walked just outside the park by homes tucked into the hillsides.  

We resorted to our phones, which weren't working so well, not really overly concerned, just now realizing we were "lost".  When our phones managed to work, they weren't very helpful, except to tell us we weren't really where we were supposed to be.  

Soon we came upon a couple women (and at the very least, 4 friendly dogs) who knew exactly where we were and where we needed to be.  We had misread a sign and gone the opposite direction.

Joy existed in every direction because we chose to be free, 5 or so miles of it, fully earning a wonderful breakfast at a place neither of us knew.  

Some might say we were "lost" from the very beginning, but "lost" is precisely what we wanted to find.

Independence Day

To truly embrace freedom, we must first release our fear of it...

I saw the moth immediately first thing this morning above my kitchen sink.  Alternating between resting and frantically throwing itself against my window, it clearly knew the sight of freedom but not the route to get there.  Some would choose to let it be or even kill it.  I immediately chose to set it free.  

Opening the window screen can be a rather complicated thing, so that I didn't attempt.  Instead I did what we always do with the occasional bug or spider we find.  I set about capturing it in a cup.

I caught it right away, and I even thought to write about it later, pondering this Independence Day.  How so often we see freedom, see an illusive (and elusive) way to get there, but the real route is something we can't even begin to know.  Liking the sound of this lesson, while holding the cup in one hand, I grabbed my iPhone in the other, planning to document the journey with a picture. 

Lately, Nature has been attempting to teach me a lesson about my camera.  I love to take pictures out in Nature with my iPhone, a practice that spontaneously skyrocketed all by itself in November (though with deep roots going all the way back to childhood).  It is a sacred practice.  And I have taken well over 3000 in about 8 months.

A couple days ago, I encountered deer on the trail, just as I had the day before.  The day before, I was so hasty to take a picture, I hardly had a chance to enjoy the presence of the deer.  But I got another chance.   The deer appeared again, immediately on the trail before me, astonishingly close, an open invitation in the eyes of one I have come to know.  

"Follow me..."  

I couldn't help but listen, a mystical moment - yet Real - my camera at rest. The deer gently walked around the bend and paused, waiting.  Sacred.  Still.  Magic.  I allowed the moment to BE for as long as it needed to BE.  And then as if by permission...knowing...I snapped a picture, only then...

The deer disappeared right after, as if on cue, and I stopped to immerse myself in one of my favorite groves of trees.  A particular tree caught my attention as the trees often do, the light of the sun on one side, so I did what it is I do and took another picture.

I don't always check the pictures I take right away, but for some reason, I did this time.  What was it I immediately saw?  Magic.  Pure Magic.  Captured on my camera.  The image of the deer as clear as day, even clearer than the picture on the trail, a Magical Presence gazing peacefully in the midst of the Light.  This was the Gift of my sacred forest, which frees my spirit almost every day.

I have since learned this image is rather elusive for the rest of you, but trust me, it is as clear as clear can be.  Keep looking...it is Real.

That was yesterday.

So today, as I carried my frantic friend from Nature in a cup to the door, about to take a picture of the cup in my hand, the moth immediately escaped of course.  Lesson learned.  Again.  Let the camera be.  

Determined, I captured it again in the living room and this time raced to the door.  When the door opened, the moth disappeared so fast, I didn't even see it go.  Free!

Independence Day doesn't always arrive in the way we expect.  As souls, we even choose to trap ourselves to better know what it might look like.  Love will set us free, no matter what the route.  Love sets us free each and every time.

P.S.  Might I mention the doe and two fawns I saw for the very first time today in the meadow by the forest?  This time, I didn't even try to take a picture.  But they surely set my spirit free...

I will be talking about the remarkable picture of the "Light Deer" with the wonderful Tracie Mahan on a radio program she is guest hosting Monday, July 14 at 11 AM Pacific.  Stay tuned for details on FrontierBeyondFear.com.

All photographs copyright Susan Larison Danz, 2014.

Amazing Grace

"Field notes" from my walk this morning....

"Acceptance" can be an active word...one need not accept any sort of consolation prize in this abundantly miraculous world!  Joy...

It has everything to do with your perception of what comes your way...

It is the deeper meaning of Amazing Grace...

It's not salvation we must accept. It is Joy.

It is Love...

What Wings Are For...

"No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings." ~ William Blake

I was about a mile down the trail when a woman approached, wearing a "California State Parks" jacket.

"Did you see the bald eagle?" she asked, her binoculars in hand.

I never bring my binoculars on my walks anymore. I prefer my Nature the natural way - up close and personal. Why I took the binoculars this morning, I really couldn't say, but in my rush out the door, I just knew I had to grab them.

She was also in a rush. She said she had never been to Oregon, and she had to check out of her hotel soon. But she had heard there were eagles here, so she had made a special stop.

And sure enough, even without binoculars, there it was, quietly sitting on a branch. From the stark jaggedness of where it perched, one might think it was a vulture.

I have seen the eagles before, but not every day. When they fly above my head, it is always a miracle. My life is filled with miracles lately, and eagles seem to follow.

And then the woman had to run. I asked her if she had seen the forest. "No."
My sacred forest is a magical place, somewhat like the entrance into Narnia. It doesn't look like much at first until you wander in. It was not something to be missed, even for 5 minutes. And so she hastened off, eager to stop by the forest, leaving me alone.

This time I needed binoculars. Yes, there it was. The eagle. Still as could be. Always distinctive, always impressive, the white contrasting with the black, without a doubt an eagle. I could have stood there and enjoyed that view for hours. Nothing moved.

I shifted my view to the nest. I had seen it many times, far too distant to make out any real details. But I had my binoculars today. I had listened...

And to my surprise, there it was. The baby eagle appeared in the nest, staying safely inside, yet tentatively stretching out and testing its beautiful wings. It was a kind of an awakening, as if easing into knowing just what wings are for. My eyes filled with tears, understanding...

And then I saw her, on a branch below, yet another. "Are You My Mother?" came to mind, a favorite long ago. Was she guarding? Or showing the way? When would her baby fly?

The moment was sacred, as if frozen in time, until I thought to reach for my camera. By the time I had it ready, the baby was suddenly up on a branch. How did it get there? Did it walk? Did it climb? Did it jump? Or did it Fly? The mother knows...

Look closely....yes, there are 3...this is the best my little phone could do...yet perfect.

Photo Copyright Susan Larison Danz, 2014

Labyrinth

And there it was, a memory unfolding, my morning reminder to be Innocent and Free...

On OregonLive.com: Pizza at the Oscars: The Joy of Real Connection

"Clap along if you feel like Happiness is the Truth" 

~ "Happy", Pharrell Williams

Why did the appearance of pizza at the Oscars bring smiles to so many faces? Why did 2.8 million of us rush to retweet a celebrity "selfie", crashing Twitter no less in the process?

Read more on OregonLive.com...