“Johann Wolfgang von Goethe” by Joseph Karl Stieler
Quite often, as life goes on, when we feel completely secure as we go on our way, we suddenly notice that we are trapped in error, that we have allowed ourselves to be taken in by individuals, by objects, have dreamt up an affinity with them which immediately vanishes before our waking eye; and yet we cannot tear ourselves away, held fast by some power that seems incomprehensible to us. Sometimes, however, we become fully aware and realize that error as well as truth can move and spur us on to action. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (Maxims & Reflections)
I am not interested in a spirituality that cannot encompass my humanness. I find little comfort or guidance in traditional dogma or unqualified New Age optimism. Because beneath the small daily trials are harder paradoxes, things the mind cannot reconcile but the heart must hold if we are to live fully: profound tiredness and radical hope; shattered beliefs and relentless faith; the seemingly contradictory longings for personal freedom and a deep commitment to others, for solitude and intimacy, for the ability to simply be with the world and the need to change what we know is not right about how we are living. ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer (The Invitation)
I’ve meant to write this blog since March 23, when Elizabeth Taylor died. Other things kept happening, though, including Tim spending five days in the hospital, and I wavered as time went by. However I have treated myself to a late afternoon cup of coffee and feel a little more inspired now…
My perception of my mom while I was growing up was that she was a very reserved and private person, even with her daughters. It frustrated me that she never seemed to want to share her deepest thoughts with me. Most of my understanding of her inner life came to me in different ways after she died, and I have felt more connected to her since her death.
But I do have to admit that some things she said and did flew right by me as I was so focused on what I imagined she would share that I missed many little things she did share. One of these things was a connection she felt with Elizabeth Taylor.
I’m guessing it might have been around 1966, when I was nine years old and when Taylor’s movie, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? came out. There must have been a lot of buzz about it because I remember asking my mother, who is Elizabeth Taylor?
Elisabeth J. White
Mom explained that Elizabeth Taylor was a very famous movie star who was only four months younger that she was and that she “grew up” with her. She said National Velvet was her favorite movie and that she first saw it when she was 12 years old.
My own comparisons go a little further. My mother (as a child at right) was also named Elisabeth, but she spelled it with an “s.” Her coloring was similar, jet black hair and full dark eyebrows. Mom’s eyes were brown, though, but she was just as beautiful. As grownups, they could not have been more different, Taylor leading a glamorous lifestyle and Mom a down-to-earth nature and animal lover.
Somehow I have never gotten around to watching National Velvet. Taylor’s death jogged my memory and so I added the film at the top of my Netflix list, but I guess there’s a bit of a wait because other movies keep coming ahead of it. When it finally arrives I will enjoy watching it and imagining what it meant to my mother sixty-seven long years ago.
The universe is a more amazing puzzle than ever, as you glance along this bewildering series of animated forms, – the hazy butterflies, the carved shells, the birds, beasts, fishes, snakes, and the upheaving principle of life everywhere incipient, in the very rock aping organized forms. Not a form so grotesque, so savage, nor so beautiful but is an expression of some property inherent in man the observer, — an occult relation between the very scorpions and man. I feel the centipede in me, — cayman, carp, eagle, and fox. I am moved by strange sympathies; I say continually, “I will be a naturalist.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (Journals)
Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world. ~ Harriet Tubman (Atlanta Magazine, April 2008)
“John Lennon” by Roy Kerwood
You may say I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope some day you’ll join us And the world will be as one ~ John Lennon ♫ (Imagine) ♫
“The Artist’s Mother in the Little Room” by Hans Thoma
One year ago today I started writing this blog. Changes…
…I use those little dots a lot…
I think it’s because, as the amazing Polish poet, Wisława Szymborska observes:
Every beginning is always a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.
Changes keep coming along, welcome or unwelcome, keeping us on our toes, and the Japanese scholar Kakuzō Okakura reminds his readers:
The art of life lies in a constant readjustment to our surroundings.
I feel like I’ve fumbled around this past year, but have finally accepted that this blog has been and is going to be a hodgepodge of anything and everything I think about, dream about, or experience, although the line between “reality” and dreams in my consciousness is often pretty fuzzy. For this blog, over the year I have tried out five WordPress themes, Coraline, Structure, Tarski, Treba, and this one, Elegant Grunge, as far as I can remember. It’s fun playing with the widgets! My favorite posts are the ones with pictures taken on my nature walks with Bernie, Beverly, Janet and Tim. Making friends with my readers, reading their comments here and reading and commenting on their blogs is the best part of being in the blogosphere!
On March 14, 2010 I started another blog, called “…select and collect all the words…,” which was at first to house my collection of quotes. Then I discovered all the art available in the public domain at Wikimedia Commons! So I spent hours pairing quotes with paintings, and wound up neglecting this blog. Finally on January 6, 2011, I posted my last quote there, and made the decision to merge the contents of that blog into this blog. It will take some time, but for now I think I’ll post quotes and paintings on the weekends. Of course, that may change, too.
On March 23, 2010 I started a family history blog for our relatives, close family and distant cousins, Rodgers Family History. (Actually we had a family history website since 2004. I created it on our own domain using Front Page 2000. But using WordPress has been a nice change, making presentation and navigation so much easier.) That “blog” has been neglected, too, but new cousins have found what is already up there and generously added to my database. Connecting with them has been so satisfying. I hope to get more of my data up there in the near future.
“Sailboats in Le Petit-Gennevilliers” by Claude Monet
A slower and incomplete change has been The Change, a hormonal storm through which I am still trying to navigate. The seas around my little boat are pretty choppy, and I’m never sure if I’m making the waves or being tossed around by what others are leaving in their wakes as they sail, drift, or jet-ski through their own lives. And then there is an energy from the tides that doesn’t originate with people, but pulls from the universe through the moon. Steady and yar…
A year ago I was asking Stevie Nick’s questions:
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I am still asking. And sometimes answering affirmatively. Some day I hope Carole King’s lyrics will be my most frequent answer…
My life has been a tapestry Of rich and royal hue; An everlasting vision Of the ever-changing view; A wondrous woven magic In bits of blue and gold; A tapestry to feel and see; Impossible to hold.
Well, it just occurred to me that perhaps this blog isn’t a hodgepodge, but a tapestry! And with that thought, I’m off to embrace another year of writing about the “ever-changing view.”
“The Difficult Lesson” by William-Adolphe Bouguereau
Had Madness, had it once or twice The yawning Consciousness ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1325)
Whenever I read an Emily Dickinson poem I am struck with a deep sense of affinity and connection, sometimes even a moment of transcendence. And yet words fail me when I try to describe what it is about each poem that moves me.
Emily Every Day is my favorite blog, written by Constance Adler. I discovered it almost a year ago, when I started poking around WordPress and following tags to see where they might lead. And while the author no longer posts every day, each post is still a treasure trove of ideas to ponder and of clues to the mystery of Emily’s consciousness.
In the January 6th post, Emily and Jeanne, Constance uses the phrase “afflicted with consciousness,” which seems a fitting description of the essence of my own spiritual journey. Even though I would never dare equate myself with Emily, so often I’ve felt that I “could not escape or ignore the experience of awareness.” It plagued me all through my childhood, as my father did his level best, but ultimately failed, to raise me to be an atheist. Awareness of awareness has driven me to “Madness” on several occasions… But, as Constance concludes:
Emily shows us how to turn and see deeply behind our own eyes. That loss of solid space/time boundaries might scare us back toward front and center. But no. It’s okay to follow Emily’s directive. She’s gone there first. We don’t have to be afraid.
And I think that is what it is for me. When I read Emily’ words I stop fearing, even if only for a little while, that journey ‘behind my own eyes.’ She’s paved a way that I can find and follow. Many thanks to Constance for helping me to gain more insight into the works of my favorite poet.
And so of larger — Darknesses — Those Evenings of the Brain — When not a Moon disclose a sign — Or Star — come out — within — ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #428)
Between Eternity and Time — Your Consciousness — and Me — ~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #713)
All right, I think I’m going to give this idea from WordPress a try. Yesterday I subscribed to The Daily Post at WordPress.com. Perhaps while I’m hibernating this winter I can make some use of the prompts and suggestions.
Topic #5: Do you prefer to talk, text message, or a different communication method?
Email. The first thing that popped into my head was the movie, As Good As It Gets, about a “cranky, bigoted, obsessive-compulsive writer.” Whenever Melvin’s doorbell rang he went into a rage because his writing was being interrupted. And sadly, perhaps, I totally understood how he felt, although I was horrified that he expressed his feelings about being disturbed in no uncertain terms and in an extremely abusive way.
My tendency to get overly tongue-tied when talking is one of the things that motivates me to write when I want to express myself. My dislike of talking on the phone borders on being a phobia. And text messaging presents multiple problems… Being signaled that a text message has arrived feels like as intrusive an interruption as a telephone ringing. Being technologically inept prevents me from sending a coherent text message if I feel a response is required to one just received. Sometimes I manage to send off an “OK” successfully. 🙂
Email is wonderful. The only thing better is letter-writing which no one I know does any more. One can collect one’s thoughts and figure out the best way to say what needs to be communicated. When an email is sent, one doesn’t have to worry about bothering the recipient at a bad time, knowing that the person will check it when they’re open to receiving it. And when I’m finished with a few hours of uninterrupted genealogical research or writing, it’s a pleasure to go to my email and see what might be there.
Blogging is wonderful, too, for pretty much the same reasons. People can comment on each others blogs when convenient or when in the right frame of mind. And send thoughts out into the blogosphere to discover who else is out there to connect with.
So dear readers, how do you prefer to communicate and connect with others?
Hear the mating call of the mourning dove Like Romeo angels in the roof above Rains will come sweet and clean Let the tears of God keep the mountains green
Roll back the covers, raise the shades We don’t want to miss out on the best part of the day You’re my best friend, you shared my crazy ways Now we don’t want to miss out on the best part of the day
~ Bernie Taupin & Elton John ♫ (The Best Part of the Day) ♫
All right, I think I’m going to give this idea from WordPress a try. Yesterday I subscribed to 