Over lowland, over snow and tundra
span arches, raised by the rising sun.
See: the light is winning!
And the stream is streaming
towards open minds
and towards seeds dreaming
of growth.
~ Einar Skjæraasen
(The Nordic Light)
the light is winning
Tag: dream
selecting and collecting words
Yesterday we had lunch again at my new favorite restaurant, Mangetout, pictured above. I had Potato, White Bean & Swiss Chard Soup (yummy!) and Tim was pleased with his Tempeh Reuben Wrap.
Two years ago today I started writing this blog. To mark the occasion I’ve adopted still another new theme, Twenty Eleven, and installed a new and improved email subscription widget, in case any readers are still not receiving notifications. Keeping my fingers crossed! I’ve been self-hosting since September with lots of assistance from my computer wizard son, Nate, even though he moved a thousand miles away from me in November.
This winter has been a no-show. After last winter’s record snowfalls I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed…
Make your own Bible. Select and Collect all those words and sentences that in all your reading have been to you like the blast of trumpet…
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(Journal, July 1836)
The past year I’ve been concentrating more on ‘making my own bible’ here. I love posting words that have been ‘like the blast of a trumpet’ to me, and then reading all the delightful comments my friends leave about how they were inspired by or disagreed with the sentences I’ve chosen on any given day.
But I’m itching to get out on more nature walks soon, to see what I can do with our new camera!
I finally got all of the data transferred from my old family history site to Rodgers Family History – that was a big project. The site is now buzzing with activity and distant cousins as far away as Australia have found us and connected with us. It’s wonderful!
(Jeff Child/Rudy Arias)
Another big change this past year has been our becoming a vegan household and me finally learning to enjoy cooking.
Didn’t see that one coming!
She runs up into the light surprised
Her arms are opened
Her mind’s eye is
Seeing things from a better side than most can dream
~ Dave Matthews
♫ (Best of What’s Around) ♫
This picture of Dave Matthews was taken at a concert I went to with Fran in Virginia in 2006. Thankfully we were under the pavilion roof – there was a tremendous thunderstorm and the driven rain reached us 35 seats in from the edge! The folks on the lawn were soaked to the skin.
I cannot believe that was almost six years ago! Before all the heart attacks, falls, broken hips, femurs and ribs, diabetes, biopsies, dementia, diverticulitis, hypertension, osteomalacia and outrageously expensive prescriptions… Phew! Let’s hope the new diet, walking, and careful sunbathing brings an end to most, if not all, of these problems.
Haven’t been to Dave Matthews Band concerts recently and am missing the spiritual high. But I’ve seen a couple shows streaming online and one once in a movie theater – much more comfortable than fighting the rowdy crowds and jammed parking lots. Still, while the music is playing live under the stars and the words are floating through my very being… there’s nothing quite like being there.
strawberry fields
Wondering Rose, this post is for you! I remember when someone visiting the museum where you work asked, “Where’s the museum?” even though he was already in the museum. I was sympathetic to the poor man as it is usually me who gets confused when overwhelmed by crowds, but when we visited our daughter and her boyfriend in New York over the weekend it was my husband who wasn’t keeping up with our guides for the day.
1.28.12 ~ New York, New York
I wanted to see Strawberry Fields, a garden in Central Park that is dedicated to the memory of musician John Lennon. Larisa & Dima led the way into the garden from our first subway stop and there were plenty of signs indicating that we were indeed at the memorial. But Tim was lagging behind and decided to ask a busy gardener, “Where is Strawberry Fields?”
“Never heard of it,” the gardener replied, smiling. But then he pointed over to where Larisa & Dima were standing, a few feet away. It made me wonder how often the good-natured gardener (above photo) has to field such questions! It’s all right, though, the snowdrops surrounding the Cornelian cherry tree (below) seem to be confused as well. They do not usually come up until near the end of February, but our winter has been so mild who could blame them for thinking spring is on the way?
photos by Timothy Rodgers
in the thrall of winter’s solstice
Because I am an early bird and a creature of habit, every morning I lay out in little trays our morning prescription meds (4 for Tim and 3 for me) and vitamins. A couple of days ago I suddenly realized that I had just taken most of Tim’s pills and vitamins. The shock paralyzed me for a few moments. Am I losing my mind??? For the rest of the day I worried about the effect his pills would have on me – one of them was definitely just for men – and worried about my brain’s increasing inability to pay attention. A few days later now and I’m still here and breathing so evidently no lasting harm done.
I’ve always been too easily startled and confused. And like most dreamers I do spend an inordinate amount of time living in my head. (One reason I was a sympathetic fan of the J.D. character on “Scrubs.”) But this latest episode was most unsettling. And I can’t even remember what thoughts were distracting me when it happened.
Mid-December is thus one of the most positively magical times of the year. Things are possible during December’s darkening days that are not even dreamt of at other spokes of the Wheel of the Year. We should use this magic as a vehicle for deepening our awareness of the world around us and preparing our souls for the ongoing pilgrimage of our lives. A seeker of Wisdom in the thrall of Winter’s Solstice should consider their celebrations as a spiritual pilgrimage or even a quest, during which, through the disciplined use of the spiritual imagination, he or she may encounter one’s own truest self along the way and in communion with Spirit.
~ Montague Whitsel
(The Fires of Yule)
Years ago in therapy I learned that if one feels weird on a particular day for no apparent reason it is sometimes helpful to see if it is an anniversary of some event that has left unresolved feelings lurking around in the subconscious mind. I didn’t have to dig too far to figure it out… But after figuring it out I had to deal with the feelings of regret and sadness and the fact that some situations don’t lend themselves to being neatly settled once and for all. Collateral damage from my spiritual quest… But deepening my awareness of the world around me, and inside my head, has helped.
No kids around this year to decorate the Tree so Tim cut a small one and I decorated it myself. Tim’s been working 17 days straight and I’ve been trying out vegan holiday recipes for our Solstice Party. Still haven’t completely settled on a menu. And we’ll be going up to see Dad and Auntie for Christmas. So it will be a subdued holiday season, but that’s OK, I’m content with the blessings we have.
along came a spider
This morning started off with a blood-curdling scream – mine. I was minding my own business, loading the dishwasher, when I turned to glance at the clock – and there, dangling right in front of my nose, a spider hanging from the ceiling on his thread. Now I won’t tell you how big he was because I have no objectivity when it comes to spiders, and anyway, as far as spiders are concerned, size makes not one iota of difference. They all loom large in my consciousness!
Well, it didn’t take long for the knight-in-shining-armor, well, the knight-still-in-his-pajamas, who had been minding his own business working from home today – thank goodness! – to scramble down the stairs ready for battle. What he found was a woman cornered by the sink, wielding a dirty spatula most ineffectively. He performed the required deed swiftly and promised the poor spider an honorable burial at sea. After giving a warm hug and some soothing words to the lady-in-distress, he went back upstairs and a moment later I heard the toilet flush.
As I returned to cleaning up after breakfast and waiting for my adrenaline to stop pumping, I decided that perhaps it was time to share my spider saga with my readers – one never knows from where inspiration for a blog will come!
It all began when I was about three years old, although my parents are a bit hazy about the time frame. We had moved into the house they built in the woods when I was three, and I was still young enough to be playing outside in the summer with no shirt on… I was sitting on the front porch when a spider let itself down on a thread from the gutter, landed on my bare back, and started to bite me. I started screaming and running away and around the house, my parents chasing after me and trying to figure out what was wrong with me. When they finally caught me and discovered the problem, one of them said, “Oh – it’s only a spider.” I’m not sure I ever saw the culprit on my back, but as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve always been highly sensitive, and from that moment on developed a profound fear of spiders. In my childish brain I couldn’t understand how “only a spider” could inflict so much pain and terror.
Unfortunately for me, spiders are strangely attracted to me and they actually do seek me out. Must be my pheromones or something, but as anybody who has ever spent any time with me will affirm, they do manage to come to me while ignoring all other humans in the vicinity. They usually drop down from the ceiling, but once I was lying on my bed reading when one popped up at the foot of the bed and started charging straight for me. Once I was on a treadmill at the gym, where the ceiling was at least two stories high, and one dropped down from it, right in front of my nose, causing me to panic and stumble and make Tim, on the treadmill next to me, wonder why on earth I was suddenly flailing around.
Now I know spider encounters are supposed to be messages from the universe that I need to pay more attention to my creativity. Believe me, I have the best of intentions to stay calm and appreciate the message the next time I see a spider, but they always startle me and the outcome is always irrational panic.
The spider nightmares began in 1972, when I was 15. I suppose they were an expression of the anxiety I felt about moving to a foreign country with my family. I had never moved before, and had never been overseas, not even for a trip. We were to take an ocean liner from New York City bound for Athens, Greece the next day. We were spending our last night stateside in an aunt’s one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan, and we were packed in like sardines sleeping on cots – all the women in the bedroom, all the men in the living room. Many relations had come to see us off.
Well, in the middle of the night I “woke up” to see a spider coming down from the ceiling toward me. Naturally I screamed! The light came on and I pointed to it. A bunch of groggy aunts, my mom and my sister were asking, “what? where?” I pointed and pointed but no one could see it and they finally concluded that I was having a nightmare. Eventually I didn’t see it any more and realized it had to have been a dream. These spider nightmares have been with me off and on ever since.
It’s amazing sometimes that no matter how well you think you may know another person there is always something new to learn. Tim & I were married in 1975 and that is when I met my sister-in-law, Fran, and we have been as close as sisters ever since. Somehow one evening in 2007, 32 years after we met, Fran and I got to talking about dreams and made the startling discovery that we both have had the same recurring spider dreams! While having this dream we are both convinced that we are awake and keep pointing (sleep-pointing?) to the spider as it moves across the wall or ceiling, trying to convince whoever is in the room with us that it is actually there and being frustrated that the other person can’t see it. If alone in the room, a blood-curdling scream brings someone in soon enough. Only half-jokingly I theorized that in past lives we must have both been eaten by a spider and were somehow destined to be linked in this life, too, by marrying two brothers. Fran decided that we had been flies…
So those are the highlights of my spider tale. There have been too many real encounters and dream encounters to ever possibly tell them all, but that’s enough of this subject for one day!
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
summer tales and dreams
Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.
~ William Shakespeare
(A Midsummer Night’s Dream)
in the park
Twenty years ago, in July of 1991, The Colonial Theater of Westerly, Rhode Island, began presenting its annual Shakespeare-in-the-Park with A Midsummer Night’s Dream. My mother had died only a few weeks earlier, and after seeing an article in the newspaper about the free performances, Tim & I decided we should go. We loved every minute of it, cuddled under the stars in our beach chairs on the lawn of beautiful Wilcox Park. Seeing these plays became one of the highlights of our year, a dearly loved tradition.
For the 15th season, in 2005, the theater presented A Midsummer Night’s Dream again, much to our delight! And I loved these words found in the program that year:
The mix of illusion and reality that runs through the play is also a particularly relevant theme at this time. For this is at the heart of what we do each year. With your participation, we visit people and worlds where the normal, earthbound laws of physics no longer apply. … Not only is the play filled throughout with the imagery of dreams, but Puck even addresses the audience at the play’s close with the advice that if they’ve not been pleased with what they’ve seen, they should just tell themselves that they’ve been dreaming, and will wake up with nothing lost. And what’s to say that we haven’t been dreaming while this parade of characters has performed across the stretch of our imagination?
~ Harland Meltzer, Producing Artistic Director, Colonial Theater
Over the years we’ve been to almost every play, except for the few times there was no play due to lack of funding. It’s free, but the theater counts on donations to make it each year. Besides making donations ourselves, Tim buys a coffee cup each year and as you imagine, has a large collection now.
This year the play chosen was The Tempest, which was put on for the second time, the first time being in 1992. After watching the weather report we decided that Wednesday was the best night to catch it. We went early in the afternoon to stake out our spot, and then returned in the evening, found a good parking spot, walked to a restaurant for dinner and then walked back to the park for the play. Even though I had my exercise ball to sit on, perhaps all the walking and sitting in the restaurant had taken its toll because I was uncomfortable almost immediately. And Tim was not feeling well due to moving around in the heat and humidity – it’s hard on his heart. Both of us sat there miserably until the intermission, wondering if the other would mind leaving early, something we had never ever done before. When intermission came we took one look at each other and knew with very little verbal communication how things stood. We quietly gathered up our things and left…
For future reference I’m listing all of Shakespeare’s plays we’ve seen by this theater group at Wilcox Park:
1991 – A Midsummer Night’s Dream
1992 – Tempest
1993 – As You Like It
1996 – Romeo & Juliet
1996 – Julius Caesar (performed by the visiting Anglian Open Air Shakespeare Company)
1997 – Twelfth Night
1998 – Othello
1999 – Taming of the Shrew
2000 – Henry IV, Part I
2001 – Hamlet
2003 – Merchant of Venice
2004 – Much Ado About Nothing
2005 – A Midsummer Night’s Dream
2006 – Romeo & Juliet
2008 – As You Like It
2009 – Two Gentlemen of Verona
2011 – Tempest (until intermission)
scattering stars
We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust.
~ Rumi
(Teachers of Wisdom)
cherished dreams
It is often the case with the silent children about us, that they cherish a dream which they dare not talk about.
~ Selma Lagerlöf
(Gösta Berling’s Saga)