Methinks all things have travelled since you shined, But only Time, and clouds, Time's team, have moved; Again foul weather shall not change my mind, But in the shade I will believe what in the sun I loved. Henry David Thoreau
This winter has been one of clouds and fog, sadness, and personal indecision. Two close friends are battling cancer; a couple more recently lost their mothers; another is suffering over the life-path her 18-year old son is taking; and yet another friend is trying to get psychological help for her troubled daughter. In the middle of this angst, I'm nervous about the dental surgery I'm soon to have. And then there is the upcoming debut of Soul Portrait, which is in the final step of the publication process. I'll soon receive my copies and try to decide what to do next; I'm having a difficult time letting go.
Once again, my thoughts travel all over the place and I struggle to stay in the moment. It's life, I know that; but when it happens, I find myself at a loss. What do I do about this? How do I handle that? How can I be supportive? Should I express my feelings about such-and-such? At moments like these, I wish my mother were alive so I could talk to her, absorb into my cells her silent wisdom.
There is one place I go that immediately fills and speaks to my soul. On a walk around our neighborhood, I'm able to be in the moment. I look up into the pine-lined basalt bluffs on one side of me, and soft, rolling high hills on the other. In between, our town stretches out alongside the Columbia River, taking on the shape of a horseshoe as it follows the natural flow of the water. It's the town I have come to love more than any other place I've ever lived. It was here, back in 1986, that I developed an intimate relationship with Nature through my poetry, photography, and walks in the Gorge. Nature enveloped me in her forgiving love; and I found peace over and over again. My soul was comforted.
I still find myself drawn into all that is silent, beautiful, and mysterious. Inside this world, I see life clearly, especially if the sun is shining. Light, as my younger son once told me, is what brings out the beauty of a photograph. It's also what brings out clarity of thought. Nature is miraculous and soul-filling. Soul-deep. Soul-soothing. Soul-encompassing. I look at the naked hibernating oak trees and am overwhelmed with Nature's wonders, knowing beyond a doubt I am part of every tree, leaf, and animal that adorns or travels worn paths behind our home. A friend of mine fills her soul by going to the sea; I fill my soul by walking among big boulders, deer tracks, and trees.
These winter days, when I feel adrift inside clouds and gloom, I walk through this familiar scene and find myself talking to those who have passed on....Mother, Dad, Rosie, George, David, Grandpa Z, Grandma B, and Arthur. Where are they? Are they part of the breeze that brushes up against my face? Do they hear me say their names? Do they know how much they mean to me?
This winter has been one of clouds and fog, sadness, and personal indecision. Two close friends are battling cancer; a couple more recently lost their mothers; another is suffering over the life-path her 18-year old son is taking; and yet another friend is trying to get psychological help for her troubled daughter. In the middle of this angst, I'm nervous about the dental surgery I'm soon to have. And then there is the upcoming debut of Soul Portrait, which is in the final step of the publication process. I'll soon receive my copies and try to decide what to do next; I'm having a difficult time letting go.
Once again, my thoughts travel all over the place and I struggle to stay in the moment. It's life, I know that; but when it happens, I find myself at a loss. What do I do about this? How do I handle that? How can I be supportive? Should I express my feelings about such-and-such? At moments like these, I wish my mother were alive so I could talk to her, absorb into my cells her silent wisdom.
There is one place I go that immediately fills and speaks to my soul. On a walk around our neighborhood, I'm able to be in the moment. I look up into the pine-lined basalt bluffs on one side of me, and soft, rolling high hills on the other. In between, our town stretches out alongside the Columbia River, taking on the shape of a horseshoe as it follows the natural flow of the water. It's the town I have come to love more than any other place I've ever lived. It was here, back in 1986, that I developed an intimate relationship with Nature through my poetry, photography, and walks in the Gorge. Nature enveloped me in her forgiving love; and I found peace over and over again. My soul was comforted.
I still find myself drawn into all that is silent, beautiful, and mysterious. Inside this world, I see life clearly, especially if the sun is shining. Light, as my younger son once told me, is what brings out the beauty of a photograph. It's also what brings out clarity of thought. Nature is miraculous and soul-filling. Soul-deep. Soul-soothing. Soul-encompassing. I look at the naked hibernating oak trees and am overwhelmed with Nature's wonders, knowing beyond a doubt I am part of every tree, leaf, and animal that adorns or travels worn paths behind our home. A friend of mine fills her soul by going to the sea; I fill my soul by walking among big boulders, deer tracks, and trees.
These winter days, when I feel adrift inside clouds and gloom, I walk through this familiar scene and find myself talking to those who have passed on....Mother, Dad, Rosie, George, David, Grandpa Z, Grandma B, and Arthur. Where are they? Are they part of the breeze that brushes up against my face? Do they hear me say their names? Do they know how much they mean to me?
In rain or shine, they are members of my Soul Council, the ones I go to when I want to feel unconditionally loved, and when I need to sort through things I may think I don't understand, but have no real doubt I do....at the soul level. Talking to them reminds me that my thoughts are more upsetting than reality, that life is just doing what it does naturally. Walking with them brings them back to life in my life.
A few years ago, I might have read the words I've just written and thought I was losing my mind. It took the deaths of my parents to help me realize that even after our seemingly final transition, we live on in the dreams, thoughts, triumphs, and tears of those still here. By recognizing my Soul Council, I am honoring my own soul, the very essence of who I am. Soul defines me; and if I listen to it, it always leads me in the right direction. I've known it subconsciously for decades, but it has taken this long for me to recognize the presence of something deep inside, and then, to trust it. The older I get, the more often I go to my Soul Council to be reminded of all this.
Aside from my own actions and their possible consequences, I try not to question too much anymore. When I need clarity, I call on those individuals who passed on their DNA to me, either through their genes or their love. I am who I am because of loved ones who are no longer standing in front of me, looking into my eyes, hugging me, laughing with me, cheering me on, or offering consolation. I carry within me Mother's depth of courage, Rosie's infectious joy, Dad's focused determination, David's everlasting love, George's encouragement, Grandpa's gentle nature, Grandma's quiet humility, and Arthur's artistic discipline.
Some would call them angels. I like the term 'Soul Council', an idea I borrowed from Peggy La Cerra, Ph.D.; only she calls it a 'Sage Council'. In a piece she wrote for Spirituality & Health, she says, "An imaginary sage council is a panel of wise individuals who can be brought to mind when you are stressed or fearful, or simply looking for sound guidance. Consider those people, living or not, whom you most admire -- people whose character, wisdom, and way of being in the world you wish to emulate. Imagine them as available to advise or inspire you whenever you need them." I love this idea, though I wouldn't use the word 'imaginary'; and I prefer to call upon those who have passed through the ultimate portal to a soul realm.
Life is all about soul. It's also about knowing what soul is, how it looks as a collage of components that make up our unique portrait, and how to honor it. Soul is everything that tells us, intuitively, who we are. Soul needs attention and care. Knowing how we express the needs of our soul helps us give it that tender care. My soul needs Nature, but that's only one part of my portrait.
After re-reading the opening quote, I've decided to add Thoreau to my Soul Council; in fact, I think I'll appoint him the honorary chairperson. After all, he speaks directly to my soul.