Soul Sunday

Good morning. It is a strangely lovely day here. We have steady rain, but not the fearsome winds, and angry noises that sometimes come with late summer storms in Florida. It feels cleansing and like a reset, like a “cooling off” period. Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Here is my poem that I wrote this morning (write a poem today. Poems can often be an emotional cleanse or a cooling off period for our souls.):

When I have considered what I have given birth to in my life:

My children, my devotion to my lover, my writing and insights,

My experiences planned and unplanned, my habits and choices,

The places and animals who I claim as my safest rest spaces,

My depths dared to be shared with my dearest friends,

My curious exploration of my connection to the natural world and beyond,

These are my life, my world, my heart, my loves, my history, my offerings . . .

I am so deeply grateful to be part of the wild nobility of womankind,

For we unabashedly give brave birth to every facet of the whole of life,

And we bear the beauty, mystery, sufferings, joy and awe of everything which we’ve brought forth,

With a solemn strength and sacrifice which comes with our dignified vow,

To open our hearts to be the willing vessels of co-creation with the divine.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2918. Have you ever written a love letter?

Beautiful Moments

We saw this beautiful rainbow in our backyard yesterday. It was a welcome sight after a tough afternoon of attending a Celebration of Life, for a 54-year-old woman who had recently died of cancer. Her children and our daughter played on the same tennis team, and so my husband and I wanted to pay our respects, especially since our daughter would not be able to attend, since our daughter is currently studying abroad.

One of my wonderful, loyal, longtime readers (Thank you, Gail!) left the comment on a previous post that I had written about this particular event, that she always leaves funerals/Life Celebrations with a little bit of awe, and a wish that she had known the deceased person better. After listening to friends and family talk so fondly of this woman who had passed, and viewing many lovely pictures of all different times and events in her life, I understood what Gail was saying. I did not know this woman well. I only conversed with her at our children’s tennis matches, but yesterday I got a fuller picture of who she was, and how loved she was, by so many people. There is a winsomeness in not being able to know many people, so intimately. It’s impossible. But there is such beauty in intimate relationships – the emotion felt, the idiosyncrasies that are so fondly noticed and appreciated, the shared memories between people which later become legends and lore . . . . It’s beautiful how we connect to each other in multiple different ways. We each have a few, deep intimate relationships, and then we have many more casual community relationships, but in the end, they all add up to shared life and shared experiences, which give meaning, reference and reverence to our own individual lives.

On a positive note, we actually ran into a couple we hadn’t seen since we moved from North Carolina in 2011, at yesterday’s Celebration of Life. Our sons had played competitive soccer together, and it turns out that they had moved to our area in 2017. We look forward to catching up with them over dinner in the next month or so. After asking myself the squeamish, uncomfortable question, “Oh no, am I starting to reach the age where funerals become reunions?”, I settled into the happier thought that the world is smaller than we think. Our relationships are really just webs which connect us all. We truly are all interconnected, in one way or another.

I am going to end today’s post with a picture of Harmonia, who is the muse of my blog. (You can read more about her on the Homepage of the blog https://kellyfoota.com/ ). No garden is the same every year. Last year, we thought we had ripped out all of the wild flowers from our back garden (which my husband had grown from seeds), but wildflowers are tenacious and strong and willful. A couple of days ago, I took this picture of a slightly muddied and crowded-in Harmonia, who seems to be sniffing one of the flowers. She seems to be reminding us to “take time to smell the roses.” It’s a good reminder. We never know when we will no longer have to opportunity to do so.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

2379. What’s your outlook on life?

The Most Beautiful Skies

Credit: Louise McIntosh Artist, X – photo taken in Ireland last night

Oh wow! So many lucky people got a beautiful light show from space last night. There were many people posting pictures from England, France, Canada, Seattle, even in South Carolina, of the beautiful Northern Lights, all caused by a large magnitude solar storm that was visible on Earth. If we ever need proof that beauty can come from storms, there are pictures and pictures and pictures to prove it, from just one stormy night. Did any of my wonderful readers get to see it?

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1284. Who is your favorite comedian?

Your Most Precious Art

I purchased these little cardboard signs from a boutique the other day. I didn’t have a lot of time to spare and there were hundreds of them, but I pulled out a few and bought them, and these two that I purchased, shown above, spoke to me the most.

You are your own most magnificent piece of art. You, and how you go about your life, is a one-of-a-kind, priceless form of art in motion. Are you deliberate about your “art”? Are you creative about your “art”? Is your art truly yours and authentic, or is it a copy of someone else’s art? Are you too concerned about being seen and appreciated and understood? If a fabulous piece of artwork is being carefully stored in a warehouse, or sits quietly in an obscure museum or in someone’s personal residence, it is still a fabulous piece of art. Where the artwork is, or if it is being viewed or not, has no bearing on its gorgeous, unique qualities. Is your “art” one dimensional or is it fluid and evolving and multi-faceted? How are you treating the artwork of your life? Think of your most favorite possession. Would you let someone walk on this possession with their dirty feet? I read something the other day, that says that our bodies know to reject poisonous food. Our senses tell us when something is spoiled. We must trust that our bodies also send us clues when something, or someone, is poisonous for our minds. We must learn to trust our built-in messenger system, in order to keep our “art” in pristine, protected quality. Our intuition is the best plexiglass/alarm system for our own artwork, we could ever ask for, if we learn to trust its messages.

“Every human is an artist. The dream of your life is to make beautiful art.” – Don Miguel Ruiz

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

458. How shy are you when you meet new people?

Rose of Jericho

These are just a small collection of orchids that we keep on top of our “tranquility pond.” I bought many of them on impulse, during grocery store specials. After their blooms would fall off, I used to start to worry, and do everything that I could to make them bloom again. I often ended up over-watering them, over-spraying them with Orchid food, often to their detriment. My wise husband talked me into bringing them outside, hanging some under some trees and placing many of them here on top of the pond. Now I leave them alone for the most part, just occasionally watering them, and they are so happy. They bloom regularly. They trust in their own natural growth cycles, and now, in my wisdom which I gleaned from experience, so do I.

Above is “The Rose of Jericho” plant. It appears to be just a dead ball of twigs or leaves, but when placed in water it turns green again. It can continue this cycle again and again, drying and withering into a tight little ball, only to open wide up to the fertility and freshness of life, when it is ready to do so, and the conditions are right.

This time of year is the perfect time of year to meditate on your own resurrection experiences, in your own life. This time of year is the perfect time of year to see how many “springs”, both real and metaphorical, have occurred in your lifetime, as you have evolved into the being who you are today. The plants know when it is time to be dormant, and when it is time to bloom. They trust that the conditions will be right for their inevitable growth cycles. If plants and animals live in ease with the cycles of nature, why don’t we?

I read a good story the other day that said we can push “the reset” button whenever we want to, on our own lives, on our own days, on our own minutes. This is a time of year when the “Reset” button is just begging to be pushed. It is big and green and it is raring to go, with big plans for us to grow and to bloom and to come alive again in new splendor. Press the “Reset” button. Press it again, and even again, if you have to, but then trust the cycles. Bask in the nurturance and abundance all around you, and just bloom. Open up to life and bloom.

“If you want your story to be magnificent, begin by realizing you are the author, and every day is a new page.” – Mark Houlahan

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1160. What “new beginning” are you most looking forward to?

Soul Sunday

Welcome to poetry day on the blog. This poem by Rumi explains love better than any technical explanation ever could. This is the beauty of poetry. It speaks of the “beyond”. Poetry uses words to go beyond words.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1953. What is your favorite type of casserole?

Soul Sunday

One of my friends commented on my post yesterday. My friend is one of those people who you can’t help but to instantly like (and her husband is the exact same way). I’ve never heard of anyone not liking her, or her husband. They are delightful. There is a saying that my grandmother used to say a lot when we were kids, “To know her, is to love her.” How wonderful to be one of those people in the world!

But getting back to business, today is poetry day on the blog. Since it is the week of Valentines Day, I am choosing to share a wonderful poem that Bob Marley wrote about love. (I consider my blog to be a curation of thought and of creativity, and it’s often not just my own thoughts and creativity. My blog is a collaboration with me, you, and many other interesting, past and present creators along the way. My blog is a thought museum, doused with a lot of emotional sauce and a bit of creative spice.) Bob Marley was a true master of the creative arts. Here is his poem:

“You may not be her first, her last, or her only.

She loved before she may love again.

But if she loves you now, what else matters?

She’s not perfect—you aren’t either,

and the two of you may never be perfect together

but if she can make you laugh,

cause you to think twice,

and admit to being human and making mistakes,

hold onto her and give her the most you can.

She may not be thinking about you every second of the day,

but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break—her heart.

So don’t hurt her, don’t change her,

don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give.

Smile when she makes you happy,

let her know when she makes you mad,

and miss her when she’s not there.”

― Bob Marley

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

650. How many pairs of shoes do you own? (my answer is – A LOT. I own A LOT of shoes.)

Snow White in a Bird Cage

We have had workers here this week repairing and re-screening our pool cage. For those of you who aren’t familiar with pool cages, many of us here in Florida have enormous, ugly metal and screen contraptions surrounding our pool areas. On the good side of these “bird cages” (as they are sometimes called), they help to keep bugs, wildlife (remember that in Florida, wildlife includes a plethora of alligators), and extreme levels of plant debris, out of our pools. On the negative side, they’re ugly. Still, I love my ugly birdcage. It keeps my doggies in, and the gators and the coyotes, out.

The owner of the pool screening company suggested that we make even more out of our back view by doing what is called a “panoramic screen” which requires less bars. See it above. (You can see the muse of my blog, Harmonia, peeking up, right over by the purple plant. You can read all about Harmonia if you scroll down on my blog’s home page). This is the view that I have from my desk, as I write to you, right now. That lush foliage you see, is part of a nature preserve behind the lake. This spot, in my writing nook, peering out at my view, is probably my happiest of all of my happy places. All sorts of birds waddle and fly by. We get deer and turkeys and herons and alligators and squirrels and possums and owls and armadillos and hawks. Essentially, I am Snow White in a bird cage. Currently, I am sitting here at my desk, filled with peace. Sometimes, different animals walk by and they quizzically peer over at me, almost like an opposite zoo, and at those moments, I am gratefully held captive by my overwhelming feelings of awe of the beauty, and the connection, and the easy, unforced flow of nature and creation.

There is one pool screen worker here who is spry and energetic and his job is to put up the ceiling screens which he does by perching up on a horizontal ladder held by beams. He is sometimes upside down, much like I envision Michelangelo being, while painting the ceiling of the Sistine chapel. It is nerve-wracking to watch. As the workmen were leaving last night, my husband and I were conversing with them about the project, and the spry, acrobatic man and I ended up having sort of a philosophical discussion about different things going on in society. He was making some very deep, astute, wise statements and I told him that what he was talking about sounded a lot like the things which I write about on my blog. With a sheepish pride he said, “Cool, I had an English teacher who said that I could become a writer.”

And for some reason, that statement filled me with gratefulness. I suddenly loved this man’s teacher. I almost felt brought to tears. I love when people see other people. I love when people inspire other people to be the beauty and the potential that they see in them. I love when people help other people to open up and to discover the loveliness and the magnanimity in their own unique selves. Isn’t this what we are supposed to do? Isn’t this what we are made for? What else could be more important? This is love. Love.

“I am a cage, in search of a bird.” – Franz Kafka

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. On Wednesday, we have a Blue Moon. It’s not actually blue, it’s just the name for the rare occurence of two full moons in one month. The second full moon in any one month is called a blue moon. Make a wish, and put it into poem form today. Once in a blue moon, wishes do come true, in the most magical of ways. Here is my poem for today:

The Sunday stillness feeds my soul,

The quiet sunlit room hears only an occasional

sigh from a tired, warm, rug of a dog, bathing in the light.

The plants outside of the window slightly sway,

to the gentle rhythm of an imperceptible breeze,

it all creates the peaceful symphony of tranquility,

that I soak in: pure, satiating nourishment for my spirit.

I hear my soul chanting: All is well. All is well. All is well.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Sixth Sense

I happened upon an interesting podcast the other day, in which a self-proclaimed psychic medium was being interviewed. The psychic insisted that all of us have psychic abilities, i.e. “the sixth sense.” Our intuitions are a part of all of us. The psychic said that the reason why most of us don’t trust our “gut feelings” is not that the feelings/sensations are ever wrong, but it is our interpretation of the sensations that often prove to be wrong, thus causing us to mistrust our hunches and instincts, when they show up again. The body knows something is up, but our egoic, know-it-all minds and imaginations quickly take over and create, ever-growing narratives and stories about what our intuitions are trying to tell us.

Those of us who call ourselves creatives (artists, writers, actors, poets etc.) are often considered to be sensitive people. Being called “sensitive” unfortunately has taken on a negative connotation in society. It implies, weakness or softness, or touchiness, but nothing could be further from the truth. Sensitive people are just deeply attuned to the energy and feelings within themselves, and all of the energy and emotions surrounding them. It’s easy for sensitive people to get overwhelmed in crowds and highly emotional situations because they feel everything fully and profoundly. Their perceptions of even the slightest changes in mood or atmosphere are noticed immediately and felt deeply and acutely. Sensitive people are actually quite strong. They live vividly. A wise person once told me that there is no such thing as being “too sensitive”. You are as sensitive as you are made up to be. Being extra sensitive can make life a little harder, especially during sad or difficult times, but on the flip side of the coin, sensitive people experience beauty and love and elation and awe at higher levels than most do.

The psychic who was being interviewed on the podcast I listened to, insisted that most of us are more sensitive than we own up to being because of society’s conditioning that “sensitive = bad.” Being sensitive is nothing more than being highly attuned to every element of life. If you shut your sensitivity down too much, you miss out on so much awe and depth and seeing past the surface of things. Some would argue if you shut down your sensitivity and intuition too much, you could even miss signals that could save your life. Dulling the senses, always means dulling every sensation, even the positive ones.

So how do you learn how to trust your own intuition and sixth sense? Listen to your gut feelings. Listen to those hyper-aware sensations you get such as your hair standing up on your neck. Notice dreams that are particularly compelling and memorable. Be aware of things outside of yourself that seem to be signaling to be noticed by you. Don’t immediately start a dramatic, narrative story about why you are feeling that particular sensation, but don’t discount the feeling or sensation either. When you just notice that your intuition is signaling you, take a deep breath, so that you can best hear your own intuition’s calm, quiet, wise, all-knowing voice, which will lead you to the next best step for you to take. Save the stories about what your intuition is telling you, for later. Live in the sensations and the fullness of now.

Fun tip: The psychic suggested that the next time you have a strong hunch about something, write it down and mail it to yourself (or you can even send yourself an email). So when your hunch proves to be the truth, you have time-stamped proof of the validity of your own intuition’s capabilities. It will help your analytical mind to become less negating of your intuition over time.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.