Sunday, February 10, 2013

Rainy Days and Sundays...

Rainy days and Sundays (especially rainy Sundays) always get me to chill, to live life at a slug's pace, to postpone as much as I can on my "to do" list and roll with my relaxed mood.  It is as if the whole of the world is united with me in this downshift into Jamaica mode:  no hurry, Mon.

Now, I love a sunshiny day as much as the next person.  Even in the most frigid temps of winter, I will put my face toward the sun and breathe in the glory it offers and have a ritual of laying on my hill bundled in winter garb as if I were sunbathing on the beach.  But when it is sunny, I get more restless to go out and play, do errands or get things done, making it impossible for me to hibernate and experience the joys of this alternate way of living.

The seasons are always changing inviting us to join them, to learn the art of balance between being and doing...being and doing.  Making the most of our days is a rich way to live even the days we want to wish away where we curse the weather that just won't cooperate with our desires.  

I wrote this poem sitting on top of my houseboat on Labor Day weekend 2009 as I mourned the summer that seemed to slip away over night taking all the adventures that happen in that season with it.  Fall's nip was in the air and the leaves on the trees were dawning new coats of gold and magenta with orange splashes.  Whether I liked it or not, change was happening so I chose to roll with it after I had kicked and screamed a bit.
A Moment of Clarity…
The seasons are always changing – inviting us to come along!
Reminding us how spectacular change is – how essential it is
to the growth of the planet and to the growth of all creatures.

In nature there is death and rebirth, death and rebirth.
 And the seasons do this in effortless surrender
Let us follow their lead
Sweet surrender…Ahhhhhhhh!

Death to the “I” and Rebirth into the “WE” – This is eternal life
Not of body but of this ever-expanding soul that aches to sprout wings
More glorious than the mind can image.

Bless the changing seasons!
They are a mirror showing us all our magnificence that is a birthright
Not something we must earn
Or something we must learn…
It simply is.

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