Not Fall

No fall PhilipCoons

Photo: Philip Coons

 

Just you wait

And you’ll see

The real brave

I will be!

I will walk

With feet bare

From right here

To right there,

Without wobble

At all

I will cross

And not fall!

 

 

 

Note: It is WAY too early yet for me to do anything relating to the other meaning of the prompt word. So, nope … it was gonna be a “not” for me … ūüėČ

 

For The Tuesday Photo Challenge: Fall

 

 

Whale Of A Time

Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson

 

Finally.

They sent the younger children on their way. They cleaned up after breakfast. Hung the wash. Made the bed. Picked up after the husband, the father in law, the older sons (who in almost all cases were sprawled, asleep, with an empty plate of this or that by their side, as boys of certain ages seem to be).

The market waited. And the dinner to start. But for the next hour, there was just them. Their gossip. Their shared stories of the minutia of struggles and laughter.

It was their sanity’s lifeline, midday at Juanita’s “Whale Of A Time.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

A Fleeting Equilibrium

balancing rock formation

Photo: Tina Nord on Pexels.com

 

She held her breath and waited for the instant

In time

Where Earth’s equator passed through

The center of the sun.

Imperfectly balanced

As it was

By arcs and tilt and latitudes,

She cared not about

The argument that it could never be

In ideal form,

Or that the exact timing

Varied

With convictions

And perceptions of the mind.

She paused nonetheless,

Determined

To witness the fleeting equilibrium

Of light and dark,

And the shift of balance

That it could,

perhaps today, allow.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Equinox in 83 words

 

The Balance

Photo: Sue Vincent

 

 

She did not understand where the castle had gone.

Tumbled walls

Like broken bones.

 

But the well was still there,

And the sword

Wrapped in stone,

Had waited stored

Well ensconced.

 

She took the hilt

Spelled the spell

And the blade pulled out

Clean

Glowing green,

Showing

All was still wrong

Just as all was still well.

 

She took a deep breath

And exhaled.

Because though

Times had changed

At least the balance

Remained.

 

 

For Sue’s Thursday WritePhoto Prompt: Blade

 

Spill The Beans

dip AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

Spill the beans

On what is

And never

Should’ve made

Secret.

Share the stories

You know

And others

Also

Have lived.

Find the balance

Between

Private stashes

Of sorrow

And the tender joys

To be had

In remembering

Both.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Spring Balance

spring equinox balance

The vernal equinox greencolander

Balance … that¬†point of perfect stillness …the place of pause between the inhalation and the exhalation … the being in¬†(yep, it would¬†flicker) peace …

We seek balance. We crave and hope and workshop and self-help and click on links for it … We want balance yet all too often¬†forget¬†it is only¬†a passing blip on life’s experiential radar screen. Rather than suspended animation, balance is a state of never ending mini-bobbles, of constant readjusting, of rolling with the punches, of going with the flow.

How paradoxical that balance is unsteady. It calls on every sense to be alert for small corrections, on perceptions to be both relaxed and sharpened.

Yet it is not a paradox. Not really. Complete stillness isn’t balance–it is frozen. It immobilizes. Holds down, prevents change.

Life flows, and we’re at our best when we¬†are most aware¬†and without anxiousness. We are most balanced¬†when we’re in the moment, in the wobble, readjusting;¬†undeterred.

Nature is as always, a most persistent teacher. It demonstrates balance twice a year. Points of pause from which to slow or quicken; momentary balance to remind us of how all stillness shifts; how balance IS the shifting.

Nature pauses in perfect timing … For¬†as we move from winter sluggishness to the rapid march¬†of spring; balance can¬†seem suddenly untenable: how¬†does one possibly¬†do¬†all there is to do, attend¬†to all that’s¬†going on–with ourselves, our families, our job, our countries, our world ….? How does one catch up with¬†the riotous¬†and¬†springy energies?

The very¬†point of stillness into seasons’ change, reminds us that like everything, we are also called to flow …¬†adjust,¬†keep¬†boundaries,¬†recalibrate¬†yet not stop;¬†swim the current but not be carried over and bashed by white waters;¬†harness new¬†potential and use it for growth, rather than¬†destruction. We are reminded to let go not into helplessness but to a gentle bobble-wobble.

Nature also reminds us that we need to¬†breathe. To play. To laugh.¬†To live in the moment. To watch children and¬†babies–so much new life¬†opens in¬†rebirth–and learn from their unrelenting exuberance even as we also learn¬†from the¬†unwavering subtle protection of good mothers who allow young minds¬†to be both¬†curious and¬†safe.

It is in¬†the¬†small beats of life–the pause between the whoosh-whoosh of your heart, the stillness in the pendulum before it resumes movement, the perfect balance of the light and darkness–that all potential¬†lives.

May you spring in balance. May balance bring more spring into your step.

hello spring

Hang in the Balance

balance

We all hang in the balance.

Can’t you see?

Be gentle.

Be truthful.

Be fair.

Above all–be kind.

We all hang in the balance.

Do you understand?

The smallest. The heavy. The brazen. The meek. The old. The young.

We all hang in the balance.

It matters.

Above all–be kind.

On Summer Solstice and the balance of dark and light

summer solstics stone Ireland

As summer solstice arrives, I find myself wondering about the metaphoric increase of light and the ongoing balance of light and dark, the constant shifting¬†from more of one to more of the other and the very brief points of apex on either. We are not meant to be static. Not the planet, not even within the same season–there is constant change. Even as summer formally begins, it begins the long path to the opposite.

Dark to me does not necessarily have the connotation of evil–though it can indeed¬†also mean the absence of light on¬†heart and soul levels–rather it¬†often represents¬†for me all that¬†is hibernating, what is nascent and unborn, the things that await clarifying, the times of preparation, incubation, anticipation, hibernation, rest …

Dark carries in it the potential of enlightenment, the tender differentiation of color in pre-dawn, the realization of upcoming sunshine and the end of opaque unknown.

In the summer solstice, dark is at its shortest, but it is not eliminated, nor should it be. Without dark, there is no contrast. Without dark, it is difficult to find rest or space for incubating thought and creativity, for wonder and imagination, for small things needing sheltering still until they grow enough to face the light.

I am reminded of this¬†as¬†even in¬†the longest day arrives, the path to increasing¬†dark¬†is already beginning–slow and steady from now to the winter solstice, a drop-by-drop addition to the night and its many potentials.

Don’t get me wrong, for all the sheltering potential of sapphire skies and¬†starlit hours, I love long days. I adore the long twilight of summer evenings, the seemingly endless time to be outside in the sun. So much so that I remember wondering–as a child reading about another child’s life in Lapland–what it had to be¬†like to live above the Arctic Circle in a summer of continuous light¬†(only in the summer, please …¬†the freezing cold is not something I am¬†enamored with¬†even considering …).

Someone I know swears by the healing properties of experiencing these dark-less days. She finds that it calibrates her body’s internal needs: she eats when hungry, sleeps when tired, works until the work is done. To her, a fortnight in the Arctic summer is a remedy for most that ails her.

Another friend¬†who¬†spent some of her childhood in¬†Sweden told me that she¬†loved it for the first two¬†days then found it suffocating. “I’d hide¬†under the bed and¬†drape a blanket over the sides to get a place of darkness. I needed time to breathe some night. My brain wanted to rest.”

I can understand both the freedom that a time of continuous light allows, and the need for respite from it. For all the adoration of light–and I indeed adore it–there is the inherent¬†balance of¬†all things. Even my friend who prescribes Arctic summers makes¬†time for breaks from¬†productivity.

A sage woman once told me: “We all seek the light at the end of the tunnel, but the tunnel itself has value in leading you to it.”

May this Summer Solstice¬†become a day of¬†balance for you. May it¬†support¬†your outward creativity and your inward incubation of new¬†being and new doing. May it¬†hold the hint of winter in the making–the cooling and the slower pace¬†already¬†forming.

Happy Summer Solstice to you.

And for all¬†who celebrate it–also a Happy Father’s Day!

summer solstice mandala

From Pintrest: thisenchantedpixie.org