Monday, April 29, 2013

Toward the Roar

A few weeks ago Challenging Perfection highlighted stepping into and exploring discomfort. I've hear the African fable of "going toward the roar" with the same idea. The fable goes something like this:

When lions hunt, the old slow lion finds a place to hide in the grass and the young agile lions stand ready. When a heard of gazelle (or whatever go by), the old lion roars a ferocious roar. The gazelle run away from the roar and right into the path of the young agile lions.

The moral: When loud ferocious things scares you, run toward them because sometimes that's the safest place to be. Here's a more detailed version of the story.

One of my biggest fears is of messing up and making mistakes. Last week I went toward my fear. I made curtains for a baby's room. I'm a novice at piecing fabric and sewing it together with perfectly matched seams. To give something less than perfect to someone else is something I can't do, and my machine sewing is not something perfect enough to gift.

At the very end of the project, I realized I hadn't anchored the corner seams well enough to keep them from untucking and unraveling. I decided to use these super fancy flower and swirly stitches my sewing machine could make for me. As I sewed, fancy stitches wandered--off the fabric. Instead of ripping it all out and starting over, I made up a story:

Bee Adventurous*

Once there lived a bee
He drank to much honey
and wove his way
through a flock of birds

He came upon some flowers
and stopped to rest
He play with the monkeys
The bee felt better

He wandered through
wide banana leaves
enjoying the sunshine
The bee smiled

He flew through a herd of elephants. 
He was feeling quite well
as he navigated tails and toes
and curling trunks

The bee was finally home 
He ate a bite of honey
and was rocked to sleep
in the breeze that held the hive

that cooled the elephants
that rustled the wide,
wide banana leaves
 that carried the laughter of monkeys

that held the birds
as they soared through the clouds
that carried the scent
of flowers and sweet, sweet honey

This month at the Writersvibe we are highlighting are favorite children's stories. When was the last time you told or read a child a story? Could you read to or spin a tale for someone this week?

*Thank you, Team Whale Rider, for the creative spark!

Sunday, April 7, 2013

It's Raining Chocolate

Last year in a master's course about religions, meditation, and stillness we learned about mystical Judaism. What most stood out for me is the bottom of the Khabbalah tree: Malkut. The concept of Malkut is when putting yourself in alignment with the holy and living cleanly. Then the holy comes through you. Malkut is those amazing bursts of inspiration. Malkut is those times when you are clear on what needs doing, and your only choice it to allow yourself to do it.

Our course professor, Dr. Helen Mitchell said her book Roots of Wisdom wrote itself--Malkut. She described Malkut as raining chocolate. If you hold your bowls up to the sky, it will always rain chocolate. You only need to be ready to receive it.

I've been fretting over the last few weeks on how to finish one of my master's courses, and today I remembered to put my bowls out. It's raining chocolate. You can see how my critique group and I have been using our endless chocolate over at the Writersvibe.

What happens when you put up your bowls? What kind of chocolate are you catching?

It's Raining Chocolate

Eyes to the sky
I tip my head and cry
Salt on my lips
It's dry, dry, dry

Blank. Blocked. Stopped.
I smell like a flop
Salt on my lips
Dry like drought crops

Moans and howls
Caught near growl
Salt on my lips
Sinking into a spiral

Plop. Drop. Splatter.
Rise from the slaughter
Licking salt from my lips
Now this? THIS matters.

Eyes to the sky
I tip my head and glide
Chocolate on my lips
Raised arms can fly

It's raining chocolate
Oh, sweet mother of fate
Chocolate on my lips
To abundance, I relate

Fill up my cisterns
Drought adjourned
Licking chocolate on my lips
Rain, chocolate, reign