First image in the light in dark investigation:
Winter air frozen
sleeping berries sun fading
morning moon rises
Last image of the light in dark investigation:
Snow-Mountain blankets
blossoms awaken moon fades
morning winter sun
As spring approaches morning walks have given way to light from dark. This is the opposite of when I started this investigation last fall when the morning gave way to dark from light. I invite you to view the gallery of images of the journey between here:
There has been a lot going on this week at work, in the local community, and in our worldly ways that have left me feeling drained and tired. It is in these times I usually push back only to end up getting lost in all of the noise.
I recently read a blog post on silence where I found myself thinking, as I have in the past, that I can maintain a silence through all this and keep going. But I end up finding the energy misused and lost along with any possibilities.
But reading on about silence in the post, there was a recognition that when practicing, taking time to stop, take care, and rest, the attachment loosens. In taking this time to become unattached, there is an acceptance of things that begin to blur the lines of separation between them.
When rested and clear that energy becomes part of us, with no separation while participating at work, in the community, and the world, in a compassionate space of possibility. Silently.
Snow moon reflecting
Rushing river dewdrops cross
Stone bridge of grasses
Cold temperatures have returned to the Palouse for the time being. My walk to the tea shop was much cooler today than the walk I took last week on my way to have tea with a friend. During our visit my friend shared something that made me think of intention. Afterwards I wasn’t so sure and asked myself, “What would it be like to take a photograph of intention?” So I set out to do the opposite of what I usually do. Rather then let the photograph come in the moment, I tried to intentionally take a photograph of “intention.” The week went by and I had not taken a single photograph. Finally I did take a photograph, but it wasn’t what I set out to do. The photograph I took happened in the moment when I stopped being intentional.
Looking up ‘intention’ in the dictionary I found these common words: purpose, goal, target, and aim. This to me was the opposite of my experience. When I made it a goal to get a picture, it didn’t happen, but when I let go of that intention on one of my walks later in the week, I was open to experience my surroundings.
During that same week I was considering a lifestyle change because of an offer I received at work. Because of this, my work day experience shifted. I stopped thinking of my future at work. I found myself focused during meetings and projects, helping and feeling gratitude for others rather than being concerned about a process or a perceived outcome of a project or task. There was a letting go of what I thought were my intentions, of goals and targets. Instead my ‘intention’ became an awareness of my actions with no goals or targets. For the first time in a while, I experienced a peaceful joy on the job.
Now I wonder, what possibilities did I miss last week that were right there with me when looking to photograph intention?
Fallen leaf floating
the frozen grasp of waters
Passing winter breeze
My experience taking this picture and viewing it afterward is one of change. It was not long ago I gave a short talk about change and possibility. I asked the question, “Does Moscow Mountain or Paradise Ridge change?” Then I continued to say, “Most people would say that both Moscow Mountain and Paradise Ridge do not change, but they are changing in this moment, and this moment and ….” Now I realize this assumption was in error and rather, I would perhaps find several answers to the question. Some people might say that they do change, but slowly. Others might say they do change by season, and even others might say they change by day. I didn’t realize until now that the answer given is dependent on the momentary perspective of the person being asked.
If the answer comes from an individual’s perspective, then what is change? What is really changing outside of what is perceived? It was recently pointed out to me that the mountains changing creates the soil were we build our homes and where we plant our gardens. When I read this I realized it could not be the mountains alone, but instead the cooperation of more than one thing. It is the interdependent interaction of mountains being mountains and waters being waters and mountains and waters being mountains and waters that brings this gift to us.
This is a fresh new look for me that I will ponder in my day to day actions. How can I participate without ownership in the sharing of gifts that each moment has to offer?
Falling winter rain
rises up mountain flowing,
sleeping blossoms lie
Do you ever feel like you’re walking along, the is air calm and warm, and then a word, a sound, changes everything? The breeze becomes cold flowing from the core, rippling to the surface.
This kind of energy has been flowing through me on and off the last few days as I’ve considered some changes. What does one do with this energy?
Walking on, when I got to the light I stopped. I looked back at the person I barely noticed passing. Did I say, “Good morning?”
The light changed and I walked on still shivering. Passing another person I said, “Good morning.” They replied with a kind smile. I heard them say to another behind me, “Good morning.”
Branches sway cracking
ripples inward outward flow,
Silent lion roars
This photograph is part of the investigation I am currently exploring titled “In lightness and darkness.” It began when the sun started showing up much after my morning walk and drive to work. Instead of putting the camera away because of the darkness, I brought it with me to investigate what this time of day had to offer.
The experience I had taking this picture was different than most of the other photos I’ve taken so far in this investigation. Along with a beautiful experience, I found myself having thoughts of judgement: “Who in their right mind would leave a couch out here!” “It looks terrible! What an eyesore!” And yet, at the same time, the experience had a beauty of its own.
Could I have met this water swollen couch on the corner as it was, without judgement, in the same way I would meet a beautiful deer walking down the street?
Does the camera judge when the shutter is activated? Or does it become part of the action and receive the light of the moment?
These are questions I will keep in mind on my walks light and dark.
Rising weathered bones
below high cliff water trickles
springing winter bud
A friend shared a book he was reading titled “Haiku” and I found this:
*”Sitting quietly, doing nothing,
Spring comes, grass grows of itself”
On the internet I found that haiku attributed to Matsu Bashio along with a commentary on doing nothing, just to be. However, I find the winds are not always still and to ‘just be’ not so easy.
I had just finished shoveling snow and raking the roof when I noticed the potted bamboo under the weight of the snow sitting quietly. The snow on the bamboo sitting quietly. And the barrel and dirt sitting quietly. It was then it occurred to me that the winds will always blow and that the practice is to sit quietly and ‘just be’ within them.
Right after I took this photograph, I pondered about changing the title to “Sitting quietly”.
*Reginald Horace Blyth (1952): _Haiku_, Tōkyō: Hokuseido pg.20
I had a wonderful lunch with Jerry on Friday. I had never met Jerry before and he gave me a couple of wonderful gifts.
I was on my way to the coffee shop for some tea and reading during my lunch. I even thought I would work on this site (I brought my computer). However, when I sat down, Jerry said, “Hello.” He mentioned he was researching dirt bikes for a ride he wanted to go on. He shared much more about the ride and research, his work on metal sculpture and being a mechanic (look at those hands) and other stories from his past, but this was not the only thing that struck me. Another was the radiant energy of his joy and the kindness he expressed. In that moment I let go of my “to do” list and listened, instead of clinging to the plan I had in store for the hour. There was a lightness the rest of my day .
Number two, I got this wonderful portrait.
The thunder silenced
joyful splashing playful waves
nothing up or down
Thank you Jerry,
Joe