"Turn, turn, turn"

The world below,  in the dark,  is running past me from one city to the next.  Here in the box of this airplane, I can't see the hills, rivers, the houses, the people moving from place to place.  I also can't see the progression of the season even as we fly southwest over autumn's leaves and chill.

We're traveling backward in time from where the leaves were past their peak of color to where they bloom orange, red and on to where there is none.   I miss the turning of the leaves, trips to the pumpkin farm, a hayride and buying fresh pie and cider from the stand.  The children were little and they liked to see the scarecrows and run the haunted corn fields.

Now among the saguaro and ocotillo, the seasons are not as dramatic. Yet,  one morning while walking with my brother in Sabino Canyon, we turned to each other and said, "Can you feel it?"   Autumn was blooming.  There were no leaves to signal the transition but the light in canyon had changed.  It was warmer in color. The light hung lower, later in the sky.  A sense of melancholy hit us.

I don't know where he went but I was back in Pennsylvania in our woods in Waverly waiting for a big yellow bus to come and swallow up my children - off to school.  Skipping around in time, I visited Northridge, Chase Street, and  the smell of high school books and how the light entered my window.  Followed by East Stroudsburg and off to college, the house where my parents lived was over 70 years old, brick with a big yard - no fences to keep you in.

We talked about this, my brother and I.  Something about the fall always takes you back to your past.  Perhaps, it's the sudden chill and the anticipation of snow and bare trees...  Or maybe it's the falling leaves.  But now living in Tucson, it can't be either.  It's something in a dream from the corners of your mind that haunts you.

I got to see the colors in Pittsburgh this week.  I thought about my children...  homemade Halloween costumes, pumpkin pie, laughter rising up from the piles of leaving - dancing, and big Thanksgiving dinners.   My children are mostly grown now, but they'll be home for Thanksgiving.  And soon, I will be a gramma and another generation shall rise.  Outside in the darkness as I fly home,  the mountains and valleys pass, the view transforms.  I can't see it but I know the leaves turn, turn, turn...  Just as I know, for everything there is a season ...

A Sign a Day

-maysa peterson

a sign a day

sometimes unseen

hides and shines

flowers in her

hair, yellow bright

and how to smile

until it hurts

joy raise a note

some deep, throaty

some airy and bright

almond scented

steeping tea wisps

green past

the window pane

green passed

a sign a day

so thin, so pale

for waiting what

already given rests

past the green

past the blue

passing beside you

just listen.

____________________________

It All Falls Together

Fall comes in on tip toes
morning draped in cooler blue
a known edginess that always
raises memories of past
lunch pails and notebooks
college hallways and sidewalks
the turn of a leaf dancing and
how the colors change suddenly
like a meloncholic blanket
warming the sleeping dreams
into next year's opportunities.

Cleaning House

I have found myself in such a state of endless 'things to do' - between the children, the new husband, parents, siblings, work and all the politics there, community outreach, adovacy, volunteering for one thing or another... I kept busy.  There was always something else to do. The list grew even as items were checked off.  In the lull of a moment, I might even seek out other 'things to do' to fill that space.  I was overloaded, anxious, irritable and fighting the current, keeping busy as a diversion.

Oh sure, intellectually I could see what needed to be done, but the gap between mind and heart was too far to jump.  What if I fell, failing to reach the other side?  "There's no help for me," I thought.  It kept me stuck.

It was the simple act of agreeing and beginning to clean house and simplify my world that was the turning point.  So I agreed to my coach that I would clean a room a week, 13 rooms that would take me to Christmas to lean out. I started with an easy one: my bathroom.

It's amazing how sometimes after taking that tiny first step, other things can happen.  That gap closes and things become possible.  Getting rid of some things, created room for others. Curious replacements like, a weekend free of worry, a smile, a new possibility, a new hope, and songs with the wind in your hair.  I can't wait to see what opportunities arise after I clean and simplify the gargage. 

The Zen Buddhists have a story:
Two Buddhist monks were walking along a path when they came to a shallow, muddy river. A woman in a beautiful dress waited there, not wishing to cross for fear of ruining her beautiful dress. One of the monks lifted her onto his shoulders – something that he was absolutely not supposed to do – and carried her to the other side, where he set her down (dress intact) and proceeded along the path with his fellow monk. After a few hours, the second monk, unable to continue keeping quiet about what he understood as a violation of the code by which they lived, asked his companion, “Why did you pick that woman up and carry her across the river?” The first monk replied, “Are you still carrying her? I put her down hours ago.”

Letting go is another way of cleaning house.  It makes room for other things.

Hello World!

When I went to college, I studied computer science.  And whenever you were learning a new programming language, you always started by writing a "Hello World" program. It's a simple program that teaches you how to make the computer speak to the world - input and output.  It's your entrance into the new environment through a new means of communication. I want my 'communicating out' party into Blogger to be a positive one, so I want to "create my day" like Dr. Joe Dispenza says:

"I wake up in the morning and I consciously create my day the way I want it to happen. Now sometimes, because my mind is examining all the things that I need to get done, it takes me a little bit to settle down and get to the point of where I'm actually intentionally creating my day. But here's the thing: When I create my day and out of nowhere little things happen that are so unexplainable, I know that they are the process or the result of my creation. And the more I do that, the more I build a neural net in my brain that I accept that that's possible. (This) gives me the power and the incentive to do it the next day.

"So if we're consciously designing our destiny, and if we're consciously from a spiritual standpoint throwing in with the idea that our thoughts can affect our reality or affect our life -- because reality equals life -- then I have this little pact that I have when I create my day. I say, 'I'm taking this time to create my day and I'm infecting the quantum field. Now if (it) is in fact the observer's watching me the whole time that I'm doing this and there is a spiritual aspect to myself, then show me a sign today that you paid attention to any one of these things that I created, and bring them in a way that I won't expect, so I'm as surprised at my ability to be able to experience these things. And make it so that I have no doubt that it's come from you,' ..."

So "What we think, we become." - Zen quote

And... "Don't seek, don't search, don't ask, don't knock, don't demand - relax. If you relax, it comes. If you relax, it is there. If you relax, you start vibrating with it." -  Osho

That's the meaning of Thanksgiving... Thanks for the gifts that have already been given. You just need to awaken to see/receive them.

Today will be a day about compassion. And being new to Blogger, from a compassionate heart:

"Hello World"