“Roses Fancy Still Life” by Robert Scott Duncanson
These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time in them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less. Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present above time. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (Self-Reliance)
I went to the hill and I got it. I sat on a knoll and I sought it. And if I would get it I would leave it. Since I did not get it, I took it with me. ~ Scots Gaelic Riddle (The Celtic Spirit)
As I sat down very gingerly on the chair for my breakfast this morning, I opened my Caitlín Matthews book of daily meditations for the turning of the year. As I started to read I began to smile over the synchronicity I found there in her words as she elaborated on the riddle above. A thorn in the foot, an irritation. A thorn in the foot that hurts when one walks on it. Pains in my back and my legs when I sit.
There is no surefire way to avoid irritations, no magic formula that will ease them out of our way. They arrive without warning to plague us, and we have to get on and deal with them. Some of the tiresomeness can be alleviated, however, if we see many of our irritations are reminders of neglected areas of our life. … The universe has its own way of getting our attention and making us attend to what is important. ~ Caitlín Matthews (The Celtic Spirit)
Well, this bout of sciatica has certainly got my attention!!! Yesterday I wound up puttering around the house catching up on little chores and the constant movement kept the pain at bay. But when I sat down for lunch the pain returned and so for the afternoon I reclined and listened to three more Adyashanti CDs, which nourished me spiritually.
No magic formula, but an idea occurred to me while lying there to help me deal with this “irritation.” I dug my old exercise ball out of the closet and Tim pumped it up with air for me. We tested having me sit on it for a few minutes. No pain. He moved my laptop down here to the coffee table and this set up seems like it might just work!
This has been a painful reminder to me to pay more attention to how long I sit in front of the computer screen. I tend to have these marathon days where I visit a lot of blogs and catch up responding to comments on mine. On top of that, as the day wears on, as it did Saturday, my posture gets more and more sloppy and as a result the nerve gets irritated. If I’m honest with myself, most of these flare-ups occur after I’ve sat too long and incorrectly, usually during a long trip in the car…
Do you have a figurative thorn in your foot? What do you do to deal with it?
On Saturday Tim & I were all over the state doing long-distance errands, like visiting a computer show, etc. Larisa & Dima were also all over the state, helping a friend move, etc. For a little bit we were all in Manchester traveling on I-84 westbound at the same time, but did not meet up there. After endless cell phone calls and changing estimated-times-of-arrival and places-to-arrive, we finally met in Essex for a late lunch at the Griswold Inn.
The Perfect Small American Town & Its Oldest Inn Essex is a mint-condition one-traffic-light river town where the dignified revolutionary-era spirit still lingers – and there’s not a fast food joint in sight. ~ Patricia Schultz (1,000 Places to See Before You Die)
ready for the 4th of July
Now the Griswold Inn is a familiar stomping ground for Tim and Larisa – they are often there on Monday nights enjoying Sea Chanteys and beer. I went once but it was a little too loud and rowdy for my sensitive nature… But it’s a quiet and cozy restaurant in the daytime. The Gris, as it is affectionately called by regulars, is the oldest continuously operating inn in Connecticut, first opened in 1776.
Goods & Curiosities
So we had a nice lunch with Dima & Larisa and heard all about their recent scuba diving adventure in Curaçao and the upcoming plans for the move to the big city next month. And then they were off – on to the next thing, zipping around as young adults do. We think Larisa has found in Dima a wonderful companion who shares her wanderlust and sense of adventure. And so we headed home in the pouring rain to recuperate and contemplate.
Some adopt a rigid system that answers all possible questions and so you don’t have to think beyond its systems. The other response is much more seemingly fragile but much more expansive, because it doesn’t lay down a rigid framework. It allows you to move within the mystery of it. And that seems to be flowering right now. I think people are more and more interested in embracing that because they’ve been through everything else. It is a willingness to embrace mystery, a willingness to embrace not knowing, allowing that intuitive awareness to speak. ~ Paul John Roach (The Translucent Revolution)
There’s more than one answer to these questions Pointing me in a crooked line The less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine ~ Emily Saliers ♫ (Closer to Fine) ♫
Any knowledge that doesn’t lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life. ~ Wisława Szymborska (Poems New & Collected)
When I have a terrible need of – shall I say the word – religion. Then I go out and paint the stars. ~ Vincent van Gogh (An Examined Faith: Social Context & Religious Commitment)
Science tends more and more to reveal to us the unity that underlies the diversity of nature. We must have diversity in our practical lives; we must seize Nature by many handles. But our intellectual lives demand unity, demand simplicity amid all this complexity. Our religious lives demand the same. Amid all the diversity of creeds and sects we are coming more and more to see that religion is one, that verbal differences and ceremonies are unimportant, and that the fundamental agreements are alone significant. Religion as a key or passport to some other world has had its day; as a mere set of statements or dogmas about the Infinite mystery it has had its day. Science makes us more and more at home in this world, and is coming more and more, to the intuitional mind, to have a religious value. Science kills credulity and superstition but to the well-balanced mind it enhances the feeling of wonder, of veneration, and of kinship which we feel in the presence of the marvelous universe. It quiets our fears and apprehensions, it pours oil upon the troubled waters of our lives, and reconciles us to the world as it is. ~ John Burroughs (Accepting the Universe)
A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Out upon your guarded lips! Sew them up with packthread, do. Else if you would be a man speak what you think to-day in words as hard as cannon balls, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. Ah, then, exclaim the aged ladies, you shall be sure to be misunderstood! Misunderstood! It is a right fool’s word. Is it so bad then to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (Self-Reliance)
The gleam of an heroic act Such strange illumination The Possible’s slow fuse is lit By the Imagination. ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1686)
The concern of the Primary Imagination, its only concern, is with sacred beings and events. The sacred is that to which it is obliged to respond; the profane is that to which it cannot respond and therefore does not know… A sacred being cannot be anticipated, it must be encountered… All imaginations do not recognize the same sacred beings or events, but every imagination responds to those it recognizes in the same way. ~ W. H. Auden (The Dyer’s Hand)
