Monday Musings: We find what we’re looking for…
I really believe in the essence of this aphorism. For me, it means that when we yearn for, search for, or want something, it sometimes shows up —frequently—in the most unexpected places!
I began thinking about this seriously during the Walk for Peace back in February when I drove down to Virginia to witness the event with friends I hadn’t seen in a long time. One of my friends, Cynthia, collects heart-shaped rocks she discovers. I thought that was kind of fun, and she is the inspiration behind my new habit! Now I look at rocks differently/more closely, though I don’t search them out. It really just happens… and it’s no longer just rocks! I see heart-shapes in some of the swirls of paint that I create while making collage papers; I find heart shapes in flower petals or leaves when I’m out walking. It’s an amazing and delightful reminder of my
friend and the Walk for Peace.
I found the beauty securing the bouquet in place in the picture above on the first day I foraged in the Peloponnese mountains, in my first adventure creating ephemeral earth art there. Every time I see the picture or the rock (as I brought it home with me), I’m reminded of my wonderful experience.
What about you?
What do you think about holding things unconsciously in our minds, and how they show up in our lives?
I just learned it’s called the “frequency illusion,” or the Baader–Meinhof phenomenon. It’s not only things that I see, but it’s also what catches my ear, so to speak. I experience a greater awareness of certain topics.
It makes me wonder: if I started thinking of new and different things, what might happen?
If I imagine new areas of interest, not just images that catch the eye or topics that I tune in to, will I begin to be more aware of more “coincidences.” I will have to explore this… collect a bit of data. I am intrigued!
Although I am not a person who needs more to think about—even when it’s fun, interesting, or important! I am a gal who has a lot of trouble saying no to offers of new ideas and projects. That’s true of existing commitments I’ve invested time and energy in, too. They have become a part of how I see myself. Just this month, I decided to give up hosting Grateful Gatherings for grateful.org. I’ve been hosting for over a year now. I really love the material, the conversations were heart-opening, and the time commitment was certainly reasonable. It was a hard decision. I have found my life heading in a slightly different direction with other opportunities that I’ve either found, or that have found me, that are reminding me that I can (and perhaps it would be wise to) say “No” to make room for “Yes.”
I’m wondering what you’re thinking about all these musings.
When was the last time you said yes? Or the last time you said no?
And do you say “No” to say “Yes,” or is it not that important to balance out? Perhaps it depends on the opportunity. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
A serendipitous cut into a potato meant for lunch!
Just over two weeks ago, I brought the world of creating ephemeral earth indoors to the volunteer end-of-life doulas of Valley Health System in northern New Jersey. While several of the women initially shared that they were not artistic, by the session’s end, they were surprised and delighted by their beautiful creations. We chose different intentions for our work with fresh-cut flowers and greens and briefly shared our stories.
near Parking Lot 2 to find spaces that called to us. We had foraged along our walk during forest bath and found more in our respective spaces. We visited everyone’s altars, saw their beauty and learnged about their meaning.
In preparing for a brief vacation, I began reflecting on my great variety of recent experiences. On April 12th, on the way to Hershey, Pennsylvania, I had a playdate with my five-year-old first cousin twice removed. I thought it would be fun to explore a bit of nature with him and perhaps craft impermanent land art sculpture. The weather was glorious! Sunny, warm, gorgeous blue skies as the backdrop for sitting, talking, drawing, exploring, and discovering. With baskets in hand, we gathered up pine cones, fallen branches, seed pods, and observed teeny-tiny bugs. We used our treasures and some shells to make simple land art. Our time together felt comfortable and relaxing.
“feedforward.” I crafted a chart with three simple symbols: a heart, three lightbulbs, and a wavy arrow artfully placed. The students shared what they liked, learned, and/or were taking with them to use in their lives. What a delight to read their answers!
known each other for over twenty years, having worked together for most of that time. She was the director of youth development for the American Management Association, and I frequently served as a speaker. Now we continue speaking at this conference on our own because we so enjoy the students, their energy, and desire to learn, and we adore the setting, and seeing each other.
joined with his wife for our excursion, and experiencing art together was awesome.
Last year, I read Margi Bush’s LinkedIn post announcing her certification in nature journaling, a field adjacent to the ephemeral earth art I create and share with others. I met her in 2020 through her participation in my bikablo trainings. This year, I discovered that Sarah DeWitt, whom I have known for years through the International Forum of Visual Practitioners as a graphic facilitator, is also a Forest Therapy Guide! Upon learning about Sarah’s nature-based coaching and forest bathing workshops, I contacted her out of the blue to suggest exploring a collaboration. I had ideas for developing a half-day retreat together—forest bathing and ephemeral earth art—drawing on our complementary passions, interests, and expertise. It has been a delightful journey since our first conversation—getting to know Sarah in a new way, learning more about forest bathing, and imagining what we could craft for people who love being in and with nature.
I remember one year, at Easter, there was an opportunity to purchase a lily plant in honor of a family member. I bought one for my mom, and it was placed on the dais along with all the other lilies purchased by church members. I thought my mom would like it. (My teen years weren’t the easiest between us.) What I discovered was that lilies were not a symbol of love and beauty to her. They were a reminder of death. Perhaps because they had accompanied the death/burial of one of her parents—at least that’s what I’m guessing. We never actually spoke about it. I believe that she appreciated the gesture. How interesting—the different meanings we held.