So many seasons of spring have I walked this earth: to see the sun rise in its rose and blue striations; to hear the morning chatter as chickadee and finch wake; to witness green leaves rise from soil with the promise of rose tulip, purple iris, or yellow crocus. Like an infant who wakes to see Mother’s face anew in this morning, I feel joy in anticipation, expectance of renewal, amazement in life’s becoming.
“What a strange thing! to be alive beneath cherry blossoms.”
Kobayashi Issa, Poems
“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”… “It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”
Frances Hodgson Burnett
“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”
El Camino IV, The Flow of Compassion by Janis Dehler
In the fall of 2017, I hiked the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain. When I returned, I created a series of paintings depicting my emotional, physical, and spiritual experience. Recently, a print of El Camino IV, The Flow of Compassion was purchased. I did not share my experience and the meaning of the work with the buyer but allowed her to see what was there for her. This week the collector sent me her perspective on viewing this art as a review to post on my website. As we enter the Christian Holy Week, I offer you her words, her intimate experience of self-awareness. I feel deep gratitude in being able to touch the life of another embodied spirit.
I sense the flow of something powerful within me and through me as I take in the vibrant colors, flowing and attuning to my inner being, awakening a deep knowing of the nurturing of my broken heart by compassionate people in my spiritual community. As I look more intently at this amazing work of art, I see a cross.
My thoughts go to Jesus as he suffered intense beatings after his arrest; after he heard the declaration, ‘Crucify Him’! and while he hung on a cross, slowly dying.
I remember reading his response ~ Forgive them, for they know not what they do! And I feel a powerful movement through me and in my heart ~ the flow of compassion.
I am in awe of his response. Instead of blaming the darkness, Jesus brought in the light of forgiveness, through compassion.
Now my thoughts go to myself ~ I have been blessed by the flow of compassion toward me; I have allowed the power of compassion to flow through me to others, and finally, I have forgiven the one who broke my heart.
Eileen
“All I ever wanted was to reach out and touch another human being not just with my hands but with my heart.”
Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.”
Sandhill crane seeks rest before the flight north to home. I journey with birds.
(photo by Leo Dehler)
“Sometimes the people around you won’t understand your journey. They don’t need to – it’s not for them.”
Joubert Botha
“It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes, everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed, is you.”
Eric Roth
“You will never completely be at home again because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”
There was a time, I looked back, like an explorer who seeks the river source; I sought to know the origin of my pain, my fear, my suffering.
There was a time, I looked forward, like a seer who tells the future; I sought to know where I was going, the plan, the purpose of this being.
There is this time, I look out, just as it is; I seek to live each moment as it presents—the pain, the joy, the will to be, the heart open, as it appears.
“Tomorrow is tomorrow. Future cares have future cures, And we must mind today.”
Sophocles, Antigone
“Every instant of our lives is essentially irreplaceable: you must know this in order to concentrate on life.”
Andre´Gide
“In a world myriad as ours, the gaze is a singular act: to look at something is to fill your whole life with it, if only briefly.”
Seagulls stand at water’s edge, in stillness, they look out to the gulf, webbed feet tickled by gentle waves— born from tranquil water. Unexpected peace after a week of wild roar.
Within the calm, sanderlings also cease their scurry, gather at water’s edge and appear to cluster in quiet conversation, then, rest in contemplation.
Movement slows, lovers walk hand in hand, while nature ceases her uproar, inviting us to stop and observe, the sacredness, which is now.
“When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall; it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient.”
Margaret Attwood, The Panelopiad
“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.”
John Lubbock, The Use of Life
“They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual Becoming.”
