July 24, 2014

A Gentle Reminder: THIS is Who I Am

The other day, walking out on the land grant, I came across this. It’s a small pine cone that some little critter shelled and ate–right there in that patch of snow–the heart of the cone eaten away.

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Remember Kim’s Sweet Cream Biscuits? Imagine having them in front of a crackling wood oven, still sweet from the smell of their baking…

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… a little of his Quava Jam (I’ll tell you about that another time)…

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… a steaming cup of Earl Gray…

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… and a scene reminiscent of the one I witnessed on the land grant. Ahhhhhhh…. this is what I imagine that critter felt with his belly full of pine cone, just like this, warm and sated and safe.

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You’ve all seen this guy before. He’s pastured out on an open 40 acres or so that run alongside my road. He’s often very picturesque against the mountain so I’ve taken lots of photos of him. He’s an old man now, put out to pasture to live the rest of his days in peace. In the winter he gets loads of fresh green hay; in the summer the grasses of this lustrous pasture.

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And sometimes…

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… he gets a few apples from me…

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… that he thoroughly enjoys (he’s a sloppy eater but don’t tell him I told you so)…

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… and then there is my desk, aglow with the sun’s rising, beckoning me…

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Each and every one of these things are what I’m meant to live–what I’m supposed to be doing–who I am. I am built to live in the dark silence of these starry nights; the quiet walks that show evidence of other lives; the warmth of a wood stove; the unexpected revelations of good food; a pace of life so slow that I can live these things, be these things.

The other day when I sat writing Welcome to the Struggle: What Artists Don’t Talk About, something important happened. As much as I was writing about the angst that can sometimes overtake any life, I fell deeply into the writing itself. I looked up from my desk on occasion feeling what I suppose writers have felt down through the ages–a knowing that THIS is it–this is what I’m meant to be doing–telling the stories of my life like this, the good and the bad–shooting the photos that illustrate that same life.  A shelled pine cone in the snow, Sweet Cream Biscuits by the fire, an old horse being cared for as all old horses should–a quiet, gentle life and the stories I am meant to tell.

I do believe that when we are on the right path the universe supports it. So, one way or another, this work I’ve been doing will work out. I can’t see the “how” right now but I don’t believe we’re always meant to. Sometimes we’re asked to have faith. To believe.

And I do.

Love to you all,

Jeane

 


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