The best, happiest, most fulfilling following-my-heart experiences occur when I choose to seek and discover the magic of life. Those times propel me to gain unique insight into life. Oh, I’m not speaking of something that would impress anyone else — just ideas that make me grateful because I see the bigger picture and rejoice in the intricacies of this universe.
I can listen to my heart and still be so busy that I don’t make myself slow down enough to ask the questions that yield more insight. It is a choice, and if it’s the most fulfilling, significant choice, then why wouldn’t I choose it? It’s like anything else that’s good for us: sometimes we do it, and sometimes we don’t — just because, some excuse.
In my Morning Pages post this morning (picture above), I referred to Salvador Dalí. I thought of him because I have been to his museum in St. Petersburg, Florida, and I bought one of his books. Guess what it’s titled? 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship. Interesting, but wait.
Outside of the museum a huge Fibonacci spiral displaying the Golden Ratio proportion makes up a large section of the walkway. Dalí was greatly influenced by and used the mathematical principles of these. His book explores this, in part. Of course, in his own quirky, brilliant, buoyant way, he advises young artists on how to excel at the craft, but there is so much to learn from him, even if you are not an artist.
What would that be? How he saw the magic in life all around him: the proportions and design in fish eyes, sea urchins; the power of plants and sex or not to encourage creativity; woods used for various helpful devices, woods that have specific energies; specific exercises that engage the artist in exploring the subconscious and dream states.
Dalí saw depths of magic all around him and appropriated magic for his needs. So can we. The magic that he sought and found made him exceptional. Yep, can do the same for us.
So, you see, I desire to keep working on discovering self and helping others to discover self. I educate through one-on-one work and through writing and speaking, so I need encouragement, proof, examples that this stuff is real, no matter how simple it may seem. Sometimes I seek magic, and the revelation of that is personal proof. Here’s one example.
Free for the Seeking
Two pine trees standing stately on the swath
Of subdivision common ground,
Gently wafting and dispensing the scent of their sweet resin,
Not constantly, not obnoxiously but rather sparingly
As befits a gift so rich to human sense,
For too much would overwhelm and desensitize the nose,
Cheapen the gift.
Two Pines yielding yet more wealth,
At least I count it so,
Their knobby seed cones that I gather for starting fires.
Full of fragrant, sticky resin,
They burn hot --
A natural accelerant.
Having harvested several bags for this season,
I scanned
The ground under the trees,
The soft bed of dead needles, silky, almost silent to walk upon, kneel on,
Looked relatively bare.
Satisfied, I wondered how many neighbors knew of the cones’ use;
I wondered if anyone would be disappointed
At seeing the cones harvested.
Next morning, walking my dogs,
I stopped in shock as we neared the Pines.
For there, a new crop of cones
Lay scattered on the silky carpet.
I looked up and in the early morning, undiluted light
The Pines’ tops blazed with an abundance of cones,
Cones yet clinging, golden brown in illumination,
Waiting to gingerly, sparingly
Distribute their wealth --
Not gaudy, not extravagantly,
But rather judiciously,
To supply those seekers of beauty,
To supply those seekers of Nature’s wealth,
To encourage those seekers of self and relationship to all.
I can listen to my heart and still be so busy that I don’t make myself slow down enough to ask the questions that yield more insight. It is a choice, and if it’s the most fulfilling, significant choice, then why wouldn’t I choose it? It’s like anything else that’s good for us: sometimes we do it, and sometimes we don’t — just because, some excuse.
In my Morning Pages post this morning (picture above), I referred to Salvador Dalí. I thought of him because I have been to his museum in St. Petersburg, Florida, and I bought one of his books. Guess what it’s titled? 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship. Interesting, but wait.
Outside of the museum a huge Fibonacci spiral displaying the Golden Ratio proportion makes up a large section of the walkway. Dalí was greatly influenced by and used the mathematical principles of these. His book explores this, in part. Of course, in his own quirky, brilliant, buoyant way, he advises young artists on how to excel at the craft, but there is so much to learn from him, even if you are not an artist.
What would that be? How he saw the magic in life all around him: the proportions and design in fish eyes, sea urchins; the power of plants and sex or not to encourage creativity; woods used for various helpful devices, woods that have specific energies; specific exercises that engage the artist in exploring the subconscious and dream states.
Dalí saw depths of magic all around him and appropriated magic for his needs. So can we. The magic that he sought and found made him exceptional. Yep, can do the same for us.
So, you see, I desire to keep working on discovering self and helping others to discover self. I educate through one-on-one work and through writing and speaking, so I need encouragement, proof, examples that this stuff is real, no matter how simple it may seem. Sometimes I seek magic, and the revelation of that is personal proof. Here’s one example.
Free for the Seeking
Two pine trees standing stately on the swath
Of subdivision common ground,
Gently wafting and dispensing the scent of their sweet resin,
Not constantly, not obnoxiously but rather sparingly
As befits a gift so rich to human sense,
For too much would overwhelm and desensitize the nose,
Cheapen the gift.
Two Pines yielding yet more wealth,
At least I count it so,
Their knobby seed cones that I gather for starting fires.
Full of fragrant, sticky resin,
They burn hot --
A natural accelerant.
Having harvested several bags for this season,
I scanned
The ground under the trees,
The soft bed of dead needles, silky, almost silent to walk upon, kneel on,
Looked relatively bare.
Satisfied, I wondered how many neighbors knew of the cones’ use;
I wondered if anyone would be disappointed
At seeing the cones harvested.
Next morning, walking my dogs,
I stopped in shock as we neared the Pines.
For there, a new crop of cones
Lay scattered on the silky carpet.
I looked up and in the early morning, undiluted light
The Pines’ tops blazed with an abundance of cones,
Cones yet clinging, golden brown in illumination,
Waiting to gingerly, sparingly
Distribute their wealth --
Not gaudy, not extravagantly,
But rather judiciously,
To supply those seekers of beauty,
To supply those seekers of Nature’s wealth,
To encourage those seekers of self and relationship to all.
