Dancing Heart

Ol is a new friend from Australia and is in one of my graphic sharing groups. She made this beautiful header for one of her stationeries today and graciously gave me permission to use it. When I saw Ol's artwork, I remembered a book that I bought for Amanda years ago titled "My Mama Had A Dancing Heart" by Libba Moore Gray and illustrated by Raul Colon. Actually, I bought the book for Amanda, but I still have it because I love the story and am captivated by the illustration work which makes me reluctant to give it up just yet. Here is a link so you can see the cover illustration.

The story is a word dance as it unfolds the choreograph of how one mother passed along to her daughter the ability to maintain wonderment and find joy in life. Now, that having been said, it should be no mystery to you as to why I love this book so much, since on several posts I've been blathering on about "wonder", "excellence", "joy" and "thankfulness".

I'm firmly convinced that "wonder" is a concept which is easily lost somewhere along the trail of life. It is stolen from us by the bandits Bad Experience, Loss Of Hope and Unachieved Dreams. There was an unforgettable day when I held my infant daughter, Frances, and looked into her 4 month old eyes. For years I had heard the expression about the innocence of children, but I honestly had never seen it until Franny and I looked at each other iris to iris. I saw innocence in the depth of those eyes like I'd never seen it before. I saw wonderment. And Frances drew me into a new place with her; it is now a haven that I will never leave. I guess I was just too busy or had too many expectations to see it in the eyes of my own children. But now in my quest for wonderment, I am determined to claim a daily nugget, drop it into my pouch and draw the heart strings closed. Those bits of stored gold can never be taken from me - no matter what happens because I am not letting go of this quest.

Recently I edited a paper for another friend who is taking a Master's education class. It was a paper about determining ways for "self care" while in the ministry of hospital chaplain. She had done a fine job of writing the paper, but I wrote back and suggested that although she'd done well in stating the problem, the solution was too general. She wrote in her paper that she was going to journal as a means for understanding her needs. However, I can't see this friend finding much satisfaction in the journaling process.

Amy is a wonderfully disciplined and perfectionistic person. She said that she pushes herself and is too harsh with herself while, at the same time, she is very compassionate with others. And these things are true of her. But I wrote back and recommended that she not be too upset if she finds that journaling is not a good means for her to relax and understand her stresses. Instead I suggested these things as means for rewewing her own sense of wonder:

*To take one week and look for the perfect vase for her desk. She can shop anywhere she wants but the vase must be very pleasing to her. It is to be a very fun process.
*After she's found the vase and placed it on her desk, then each day for 2 weeks she can go to the florist shop in the hospital or the grocery store and buy one flower that she finds especially beautiful. Then she's to take that flower to her office, throw away the flower from the day before and replace it with the one. This is to symbolize that she is finding freshness and beauty in each day.
*She can go on a scavenger hunt all by herself and look for something unusual - something in nature that is normally overlooked. It could be a single feather. It could be a clover. It could be a uniquely shaped rock. Then when she finds that object to ask the Lord for a story about that object. She can use her imagination and simply play with the idea. Let the story grow in her mind.
*She can put up a bulletin board or poster board on her apartment wall and each day attach some small object of significance from that day. As her objects grow in number, a story of her life will begin to unfold because she has begun to allow herself to dream.

This may all sound silly, and she may not even understand the purpose for the individual components of this quest, but I firmly believe that - for all of us - freshness comes when we take time to examine the little things.

Should you want to contact Olwyn, you may leave a comment on my blog, with your email address, and I will forward it to her.

The Landing

"Hawks are social birds." my Dad used to say. He would add, "You will see a lot of them perched on power poles along the road." Therefore, whenever we're on a drive back to Iowa, I like to count how many hawks I see as we travel along the interstate. And I wave to them. I think what Dad meant by the hawk being social is that they are not so shy of man. It makes me happy to see a hawk who is one of a social bunch. It pleases me to wave at a creature that doesn't shun me.

In actuality, each one is oblivious to a red Vibe on a busy highway. He's occupied, instead, with watching for the faint movement of a grassblade knowing that hustling underneath it would be a tasty morsel for dinner.

Can birds smell?

David Allen Sibley in The Sibley Guide to Bird Life & Behavior, says that in comparison to vision and hearing, the other senses in a bird are secondary. However, in nocturnal birds, vultures and tubenoses, the sense of smell can be significant. These birds are able to locate carrion by detecting the odor of a chemical that is emitted by rotting meat. (Since I procrastinate at this bit of housekeeping, it's therefore a good thing there isn't a Turkey Vulture near my refrigerator.)

There is something wondrous about a bird. The fact that they can soar in places that we can only think about is, I think, part of the wonder. How delightful it is to spot a fallen feather, claim it as your own and then poke it into your cap! A bird's plumage is so luxurious and gorgeous that it makes it hard to believe that underneath that lofty bit of color is a scrawny creature with a pokey neck.

A friend of mine raises Amazon parrots and for awhile also raised cockatiels. I have a prized cinnamon cockatiel hand-raised and given to me from Tami. I named her Acorn and she and I are buddies. I collect Acorn's fallen feathers and have been known to give them as special gifts or use them in some of my art projects.

I went to a quilting class one time where the quilt artist was doing a series of quilts on the topic of feathers. She was not just quilting ordinary feather shapes, however. This women studied feathers by magnifying them many many times and then made dazzling designs from the hidden-to-the-natural-eye shapes and colors. She showed slides of the colors and textures that were underlying the surface. They were sensational.

Since that time, I have been fascinated by thinking about those hidden things that are so easily passed over in the superficial glance or in the haste of the moment. I find that if I remain enchanted by small treasures, then all of life holds wonderment. But if I lose sight of the intrigue of finding the veiled treasure, then I find myself becoming self-absorbed and depressed. I would much rather spend my time waving at hawks and thinking about their aloof but friendly beauty than being annoyed about my ingrown toenail. I'm thankful that God created such variety to enchant and draw us out of ourselves.

"Is it by your understanding that the hawk soars, Stretching his wings toward the south? Is it at your command that the eagle mounts up And makes his nest on high? On the cliff he dwells and lodges, Upon the rocky crag, an inaccessible place. From there he spies out food; His eyes see it from afar." Job 29:26-29

(Graphic based on tutorial by DaBratz membership group.)