Frances Hodgson Burnett’s, The Secret Garden is one of the most magical full-sense spring experiences. You will never look at nature and her healing powers the same again.
Here is just one little morsel to taste:
“A sudden thought made her scramble to her feet,
“I can’t wait! I am going to see the garden!”
…She unchained and unbolted and unlocked and when the door was open she sprang across the step with one bound, and there she was standing on the grass, which seemed to have turned green, with the sun pouring down on her and warm sweet wafts about her and the fluting and twittering and singing coming from every bush and tree. She clasped her hands for pure joy and looked up in the sky and it was so blue and pink and pearly and white and flooded with springtime light and she felt as if she must flute and sing aloud herself and knew that thrushes and robins and skylarks could not possibly help it. She ran around the shrubs and paths towards the secret garden.
“It is all different already,” she said. “The grass is greener and things are sticking up everywhere and things are uncurling and green buds on leaves are showing…”
…When she had reached the place where the door bid itself under the ivy…and she pushed the door open…
“Oh Dicken! Dickon!” she cried out. “How could you get here so early! How could you! The sun has only just got up!”
“He got up himself, laughing and glowing, and tousled; his eyes like a bit of the sky.
“Eh!” he said. “I was up long before him. How could I have stayed abed! Th’ world’s all fair begun again this mornin’, it has. An’ it’s workin’ and hummun’ and’ scratchin’ an’ pipin’ and’ nest-building’ an breathin’ out scents, till you’ve got to be out in it ‘stead o’ lyin’ on your back. When th’ sun did jump up, th’ mor went mad for joy, an’ I was in the midst of th’ heather, an’ I run like mad myself, shoutin’ an’ singing’. An’ I come straight here. I couldn’t have stayed away. Why, th’ garden was lyin’ here waitin’!” pg. 155-157
Been blowing kisses lately
Blowing to Daffy who is my very first beauty that finally is warm enough to open-
Blowing to my toooot-toot-toot, Lake Tahoe bird singing under my window-
Blowing to mini meadow and peek-a-boo path my old walking friends finally uncovered from snow-
Blowing to Lovely Lake, who literally last week melted her last patches of winter’s ice-
Other’s are blowing, too.
Today I watched a little boy walk the long path into school blowing kisses to a car stuck in school traffic. He blew and blew and blew with exuberance no matter who was watching. When the car passed I expected to see a woman (a mom) blowing back. But it was a man (a dad) and he was blowing back, his arm out the window, with gusto!
Blow some kisses…
there is so much to love!
Once upon a time on a cold snowy day four years ago, I got on my boots, hat, and gloves and walked outside in my back yard with a shovel. As an artist I was searching for an explanation to pieces of me I had lost. And I was going to create it using the frigid frozen snow on the outside to match the cold empty loss I felt on the inside…
My mother’s body died four years ago today, January 26, 2014 but her heart died April 28, 2012 when her sweetheart of sixty eight years went to heaven. I began lifting heavy mounds with a shovel, then on my hands and knees began packing the snow meditating into my creative process hoping to somehow connect. My muscles strained from the weight of the frozen water. My body shivering. My breathing deep and rapid sent small clouds of steam that kept fogging and refogging my vision at each breath. The tall evergreens moved subtly in the wind and I could hear them whispering behind my back; I found myself looking up and around to see which was mocking me for being a grown-up “playing” in snow without a child.
Art explains without words.
It is a visual puzzle with clues and question marks spilling out to make some sort of sense of our world.
Most of the time we don’t know the message that our soul wants to surface–
but sometimes we do.
But it has to come out–somehow, someplace.
The art piece began to take form as it turned into a snow sculpture of my recently passed mom, so very very happy holding hands with my dad, both dressed in angel-white snow but wearing actual pieces of their own clothing, I had saved.
The piece began to take on a life of its own as my soul and their souls connected through art. My mother’s head tilted like it always did when she was photographed and her scarf fit over one ear like she always used to do, pulling it up to protect that one sensitive one from the cold.
My father wears that smirky-smile that goes straight more than up and finally looks complete with my mom next to his side. He was always so proud he got her! They both are waving like I remember so often when we would come and go from “our” home that we loved. When I finished the last of the accessories, placing mini-jam jar lids on for buttons, I stood back in silence. I was exhausted and chilled but feeling drips of sweat between my chest and under my arms–I also felt warm. The trees were silent. It was the three of us standing there on the planet waiting for something to happen. But nothing happened. So I gathered my shovel and walked inside.
I began to change out of my wet frozen clothes, put on a cup of peppermint tea, (my mother’s favorite) and get warm. As I began to do this, I missed the snow-people I had just placed a piece of my soul into. (This happens with artists and their creations.)
In the few minutes it took to change I ran to the window to make sure they were still there.
I needed them to still be there.
They were there…
What happened after this was quite extraordinary…
When I looked out the window I noticed the shape surrounding the figures. While I was sculpting them up from the ground with tenderness and as I moved around gathering up snow, I had somehow surrounded my parents in a heart without knowing it. …Or they sent it to me. No matter, I could feel their love so expansive and genuine… They were still here not only in snow, but in spirit!
“How strange to build snow men of your parents who have died.”
But I am not embarrassed I created this.
It has been six and four years since they left for heaven
and I notice every single day.
They are always together and when I look at this I know it is true and it makes me happy.
Four years later I look back and see them…watching and loving us; still waving hello and never good-bye. This feeling has never melted even though in spring the snow did.
Hello back, mom and dad…I love you too—
So very glad you’re still here.
Each of my family members has allotted an amount of money in our pockets, not for shopping but for giving, only.
On Christmas day we are going to share how we spent a dollar here or a few there to brighten someone’s day.
Here is a just a few: My daughter bought a cookie topped with ice cream for an older woman. She didn’t tell her, she just paid for it before she came up to order. She was so surprised and happy!
My son took homemade chocolate covered strawberries to an elderly home and passed them around. They loved them! He loved it too.
Everyone at my grocery store was impatient to check out and when the checker asked if anyone would spend $10 for a full bag of groceries to donate to the town food bank, each answered “NO.” When my turn finally came, I said no too, then remembered my gift pocket. “Oh, wait, yes, I will!” Her face lit up. But then the people behind me began to buy one too….
The gift pocket is contagious…
When I was a little girl I created my very own life philosophy with six simple words. I spent time drawing them vertically on a small piece of poster board, decorating each individual word differently. I taped the board above my bedroom door and would repeat the words every single day, over and over for years.
Later additions to my little six word philosophy came with age and passing experiences such as these.
“Marvel and be Amazed”
But those original six little words continue to pop into my head often, as they did today. I chose not to post them because they feel sacred to me; written in my innocence.
Recently, I read a statement that won’t leave my head and I believe sums up my little six word philosophy in only two.
The statement is just as sweet and holy.
The month of December collectively represents, to me this beautiful simple philosophy. Humankind seems to be seeking to bring more good during this time of year more than any other time. It is felt.
Every day I wish to add more good to the world.
More good is contagious. If I spread a little to someone or something, then that has the possibility to give more good to someone else. And on and on…
More Good; simply said, simply done.
A two word philosophy that is worth holding on to.
“He that doeth good is of God…”
(3rd John 1:11)