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Posts tagged ‘transformation’

Jun 10

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My Message in a Digital Bottle . . .

20130601_134119When publishing an essay here on my blog, or posting a photo, a favorite saying or a funny story on Facebook I imagine myself writing them on real paper. I smile as I see myself rolling them up tightly and slipping them into the narrow opening of a virtual bottle. As they push past the neck and into the open space below, I see them unfurl in my mind’s eye and I mentally seal the bottle and toss it out into this undulating, big blue internet ocean with the click of my mouse.

IMG_0001My messages are nearly  always love letters. They are written to myself too, because the simple act of bearing witness publicly to the beauty I see around me is good for me, and that is enough. But early on I used to wonder, when my message in a bottle rolls up on someone else’s distant shore does it arrive at just the right time? Does it touch them? Does it make a positive difference in their day? Does it matter to anyone else?

I don’t wonder any more. Here and there people send me little love notes back. They tell me that my bottle reached them. Something I wrote, or a picture I took spoke to them. They write to me saying I sent just the right message at just the right moment to just the right person. Love notes like this one:

“Dear Lori ~

You need to know how Mammaste touches peoples lives on the most basic level so I write to you now. There are so many days when a beautiful photograph you take or a story you tell, like your daughter making her father turn the car around so she could snap a photo of a heart in nature, warms my heart. Today was exceptional though. Your post about today being a gift & a blessing shook me to the core on a day where putting one foot in front of the other was nearly impossible. Your loving words from the heart of a mother inspired me to START my day. Please accept my heartfelt gratitude.

Leslie McAfee Richter” (Used with permission)

0001fcThere have been many others too. For each and every one, my heart is warmed in reading them, and I am grateful. They are little love notes rolling up on my sandy shore. I want you to know your messages have reached me. I know you, like me, have been moved by the words of others on social media, and on blogs, and watching videos that make us laugh and cry and amazing TED Talks on beauty and bravery and vulnerability, and the list goes on. We may not write a response every time. But we are moved just the same, and we are changed for the better.

A funny thing happened as I was crafting this essay. I noticed a Private message on my Facebook tab. When I opened it, it read:

“I love you. Enjoy the evening sun . . . I just had the feeling rush over me so I took advantage of telling you via this modern age contraption.”

It was from my dear friend Jane just down the street!

We can shape this ‘modern age contraption’ that is the internet into anything we want it to be. Why not a vehicle to transport our love letters to humanity, to the world?

Mammaste
Divinity in the Everyday

May 25

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Pollyanna

I am known for seeing hearts in nature and collecting photos of them. I also see beauty everywhere. Everywhere. To the point where I might make you want to throw-up a little bit.

I once had someone who did not know me well suggest that the reason a person like me (a white, middle-aged woman who grew up middle class in the suburbs) might be more prone to happiness is because I haven’t really known true suffering. Fair enough. Maybe.

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Apr 22

Me, Davy Jones and Saving the World. The First Earth Day, April 22, 1970

Then there was the box with the electric-yellow knit poncho and, holy of holies, the Monkees album I had longed for FOREVER; "More of the Monkees." There they were, Michael, Peter, Davy and Micky--all smiling down at me from preteen heaven. My future husband and his best-men at our never-to-be wedding. Stupid pollution.

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Feb 2

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You Were Born For This Moment

Subzero Sunrise

Subzero Sunrise

We often think the meaningful stuff of life will happen for us in big  ’Ah-Ha’ moments when we suddenly see what our purpose is, discover our passion or perceive why we are here so we can get down to the business of  living our truest life. But what if because we are looking for what we assume it will look like, we are missing that it is already here, right in front of us?

Today, as I sat in my idling car at a red light on one of the coldest days in Minnesota history, I suddenly remembered a sunny summer evening sitting on the grass outside an elementary school down the street from our home. A school aptly named “Golden Years.”  I was watching my youngest daughter wobble around on her little bicycle that had just recently metamorphosed from four wheels to two. She had begged me to take her to the park so she could practice riding on what she called the ‘pie’ court. She was referring to the tattered basketball court at the base of the sloping hill where I sat watching her ride; tanned legs pumping, brown braids flapping.

Round and round she circled the rectangle, carefully cutting corners and bumping over cracks in the tar where tenacious weeds found purchase and grew stubby and thick under the regular trampling of feet. As I watched her ride I began to wonder why she calls this the ‘pie’ court. It was obviously not round . . . I called out to her as she cycled by me; “Why do you call this the ‘pie’ court?” On her next pass she yelled to me,
“It’s because there is a pie in the middle!”

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I looked, but I couldn’t see any circles anywhere on the court. “Where?” I shouted as she whizzed by again. This time she answered me well after she had passed by and I heard her words faintly trailing off, “It’s in the shape of the weeds!”

I looked again, this time really trying to see what she saw and suddenly,  there it was. Not the pie I assumed I’d see–not the round shape with a big triangle slice cut out. No, the weeds growing in the cracks of the basketball court formed an almost perfect symbol for pi. Not apple pie, but mathematical pi!  I was delighted to see it. My daughter was like a magician making something appear before my very eyes that wasn’t there a moment before (something children often do).

I hadn’t thought about that memory since that day a few years before and it made me feel a little sad. I realized there are so many details of my life that I will forget that are so simply beautiful.

piberational_fullpic_artworkI suddenly longed to remember all the small details that have made up this life of mine.  I wondered, what if NOW is always the moment we were born for? What if every NOW contains the potential of living out our purpose, our passion, our reason for being? What if we looked at it that way, that we were born for this very moment in time, all the time? (Yes, even these moments in idling cars, waiting for lights to change.) I wonder, would we finally see the vast infinity of pi (even in the weeds) if we stopped looking so hard for that big slice of apple pie?  I wonder.

Mammaste

Divinity in the Everyday

Aug 23

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Are Our Lives Predestined?

At the time, I had been trying unsuccessfully for about six years to have a baby, so I asked him; “When will my baby be born?” After a moment, he shook his head, looked a bit bewildered and said; “Well, it’s not for me to question the information I’m getting, but I’m being told your baby will be born in January.” I said, “Really? January? As in two months from now?” He looked as perplexed as I felt and he nodded and said; “Yes. I’ve checked it several times. Yes, in two months from now.” Clearly, I was not seven months pregnant. We both would have noticed that!

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Jul 25

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Skimming and Skipping Across the Surface of Our Days

But sometimes, with engines full throttle, I simply let go of the rope and gently sink down into the heart of the deep, silent weightlessness of being fully present in the here and now.

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Jun 6

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Seeing Beyond Things

Our every encounter with one another, all of our relationships in this life are holy. Each one has the potential to be a sacred exchange, whether it involves laughter or tears; a simple smile or even a sneer! We need only pay attention. There is so much divinity in the everyday if we have eyes that not only see but also perceive; if we can listen with ears that hear with an open heart. It is all gift. All of it. Keep watching, keep noticing, look and see beyond things. It really does expand your world.

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Jun 4

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Catching Joy

I have set a trap in my front yard. The idea for it started a couple of years ago when I saw a ‘free’ sign scribbled on an old Adirondack chair while on a walk with my husband, Alan. Alan knows I cannot resist an orphaned chair. Soon enough he plodded back to where I stood admiring the chair and picked it up as I grabbed the matching footrest and we made our way home.

The old chair sat in our back yard for two years as an idea began to percolate in my mind. Finally, this year I set my trap. With the help of my bewildered husband, we laid fresh green sod on the chair’s seat and footrest. We built-up the arm rests and planted ground cover in them. We stapled chicken-wire to its sloping back and filled it with potting soil and upholstered it with hundreds of little succulent plants. We tucked the chair under the shade tree on our front lawn, right next to the sidewalk and waited.

My home office is on my front porch and I often get to witness the joy I capture in my trap first hand. It began with the children who often run ahead of the grown-ups on their walks. They are almost too easy to catch.  With their fresh, inquisitive eyes and low stature, they are drawn into the chair’s whimsey from a block away and they easily  ensnare their adult charges with squeals of delight.

The next to fall prey are the older men and women. Their un-hurried pace and seasoned gaze never miss the chair, and though they are not loud like the children, very much like the children they always stop and cheerfully go over every detail with wide smiles.  Often I will capture the amused attention of dog walkers who notice too late the lifted leg on the chair’s footstool as they yank the leash and guiltily look up to the house. (It’s okay, I don’t mind!) New parents lazily pushing sleeping babies in shiny new strollers whisper their admiration.

But the hardest and most elusive prey are the joggers, with their headphones and determined, focused attention on the road in front of them. As I watched them pass by over and over again, oblivious to my joyful trap, I realized I had to do something clever to grab their attention. So, one beautiful sunny day I hung my parakeet’s cage from the tree, right over the chair. He sang and chirped his delight at being outside. “Irresistible,” I said to myself, “surely this will catch them!”

Soon I noticed a jogger coming up the street, she breezed past the bird and chair without breaking stride. I sighed. But, what’s this? She is circling back! She stands panting, smiling at the chair for a moment before bounding away again.

That’s what I love most about my trap, it’s a catch-and-release program!

While out watering the chair one day a man drove past, then reversed his car and pulled up next to me to say how much he loves driving by our yard on his way to and from work. He thanked me for creating the chair, for the joy it brings him.

And so it goes. Surprise, joy, delight and gratitude fill me too. Just one of the many ways extending even the smallest gesture of love comes full circle. Isn’t that just so beautiful, the way love works?

Mammaste, notice the divinity in the everyday!

Apr 23

1 Comment

When My Heart Remembers

There are times when something in the present moment triggers a memory in my heart so deeply relived that I suddenly see the power that experience had in affecting so many of the choices I made thereafter.  In a crystal clear instant I envision each day of my life as one watercolor brush stroke on a single transparent piece of paper as thin and fine as a Bible page.

Each painted day, normally laid-out in linear time, begins to float into an orderly stack, one atop the other in perfect register. It is then I glimpse the entire landscape of the earthly existence I am painting with my life. There in the blending of all my days.

With this new perspective I can free myself from dark, repetitive patterns I had not even realized I was laying down; layer upon layer over time.

In these rare flashes of overlapping clarity, I understand the way each experience colors and informs the next. How every kind or harsh word; every choice to be happy or sad; to feel love or anger; to forgive or to punish; to fear or be fearless; shapes and shades the larger image on the canvas of my life.

These moments of insight are always fleeting. And as the image fades, I am mindful of the masterpiece I am capable of creating with every thoughtful stroke I paint, on every delicate and precious new day I am given. Like this day. Right now. Today.

Mammaste!

There is so much divinity in the everyday, every day.

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Mammaste Website

Mar 19

3 Comments

I want to tell you something.

What might you say if you could whisper through time into your own sweetly curved, perfect little newborn ear?

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