No Standing Still

December 10, 2018.  Today marks 2 weeks since a hurried scurry in my driveway left me flat against the concrete wondering briefly what all have I broken?  And who saw me fall?  Good news on all fronts – nothing broken and no distressed neighbors hovering.  I got myself up slowly, marveling that everything still worked, and began puzzling why I tripped on something always right there, why on the day before I go to my aunt’s 94th birthday, why, why, why?

Richard Wehrman’s poem “Traveling” helps make sense of a seemingly senseless stumble.  I’ve added bloom and swirl to a photo of my purple-puffed chin.

P.S. I am back to normal skin tones.  More attentive in the driveway.  Pondering still.

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Bowl Of Stones

December 5, 2018.  Once upon a time, when younger and more flexible, I would lay out a labyrinth on the mountain up above Cloudcroft NM each summer.  In a national forest,  one “leaves nothing and takes only pictures” – hence no permanent stone-lined labyrinth.  My challenge included:  repeatable installs, rain proof, cattle proof, materials must fit in the back of an already-crammed car.

Each summer, I would spend a spiritually connected day creating the labyrinth before the group arrived, and a frenzied couple of hours at close of the gathering – pulling up anchored straps and packing materials snugly back into their container.

Near the labyrinth center, I placed a bowl of polished gemstone fragments – and encouraged walkers to stir the collective energy as they passed.

This collage puts a smaller capture of the bowl near center over a larger capture of stones within the bowl

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