The Japanese anemones in the garden are so delicate and sweet. Some people call them windflowers, not sure why.
Every morning this week, I’ve been savoring them, knowing the winds and the rain are coming; an atmospheric river heading this way.
But not today. I wonder what that delicate perennial knows of the weather. Does it only know what is? Does it sense what is to be?
The mysterious wisdom of green growing things.
I’m in day five of a weeklong dance training, and haven’t been able to embrace one of the practices. It’s a minute of laughter, part of system of movement that gets all the joints lubed and ready to go, known as the seven one-minute stages.
I’ve done this Nia-created routine many many times and left to my own devices I never do the one-minute of laughter part of it. I mean, it’s not joke-telling. There’s nothing funny happening. You just laugh on demand for a minute.
I don’t like it. But I’m willing to trust the dance mentors who say it’s a good thing. Sometimes I have to bring in imaginery allies to help me over a threshold. For this, I’m bringing in ravens, a gang of ’em in an imaginary tree, with their cackling noises. The great tricksters of many North American indigenous cultures, they give me a reason to laugh as I imagine them viewing me, viewing us, from a high perch.
Silly humans. We shall see if, with them in my mind, I can snort out a chuckle or two or three on demand.
I brought home an idea from our summer visit to Stockholm where I learned that the Swedes make a conscious effort to create a cozy ambiance during their long dark winters. They bring light and warmth indoors, and perhaps a sense of slowing down, not being rushed, to the season.
I’ve added strings of light and brought out candles. I have a soft warm throw near a favorite armchair. There’s a comfortable sweater ready for me in my studio if I need it.
My personal addition to preparing for a cozy winter: It will be the only season that I work on my embroidery projects. Too many activities beckon in Oregon’s other three seasons when being outdoors is always an option. I have been surprised by how genius this strategy is. Rather than having a “should” hanging over me regarding unfinished embroidery projects, I am now — on one level at least — anticipating winter. It’s on the horizon but not quite on the doorstep.
The picture shows a cotton handkerchief, I embroidered this week just to ensure I had all my tools and supplies in order and ready to go. It took just a couple of hours to complete and made me want to grab a bird study I’ve been working on that will be one of two big projects to focus on in coming months.
But not yet. The outdoors is still calling. The light still too sweet.
Susan Palmer's Exquisite Now 