An Invitation to Try Living Softly and Tenderly - Choosing a Delicate and Different Kind of December

What would it even mean to be invited to try living softly and tenderly – especially during December amidst the hustle and bustle of the holiday season? 

I love the writing of Aundi Kolber, a therapist and the author of Try Softer. She relates that after meeting with her supervisor and sharing how worn out and tired she was, he said, “I’m not asking you to stop caring, just to change the way you are caring.” And then he said, “What I mean is…what if – just for a change – instead of trying harder, you tried…softer?” Kolber advocates, “Learning to try softer is not a onetime event but a way we learn to be with ourselves.”

When our culture has communicated the messages to go fast and hard, do it all perfect, etc. – what if we pause? What if we take an exquisite pause and walk softly and tenderly towards a different way?

How could we try softer by becoming more attentive observers of what is going on with our bodies? With our minds and our thoughts? With our feelings? With our responses?

Consider this poem by John O’Donohue...

Photo taken in Big Bend National park, texas.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;

Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up

To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain

When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,

Taking time to open the well of color

That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone

Until its calmness can claim you.

Be excessively gentle with yourself.

JOHN O'DONOHUE

“For One Who is Exhausted,” To Bless the Space Between Us

You may receive multiple invitations during December for parties, celebrations, family or friend get-togethers…. This is a different kind of invitation. 

The invitation to try living softly and tenderly takes intention and courage. I am not suggesting that we stop having parties, giving gifts and halt our holiday traditions. I am inviting us – this is me included – to look at our time, our intentions, our conversations, our commitments and with those areas, move into and live softly and tenderly in the way that we do our days, our weeks and our month of December – in the way that we choose to be in our days, our weeks and our month of December.

What might an intentional and exquisite pause look like? 

Maybe our hearts are hurting with grief…longing, feeling lost, or experiencing loss. Maybe during this fragile time there is a significant moment for an exquisite pause. A pause that honors and holds our hearts with gentle care.

Photo taken in big bend national park, texas.

As we were hiking in Big Bend National Park recently we hiked to Santa Elena Canyon, a beautiful canyon wall of 1,500 feet. We were the only ones on the trail at the time and the serenity of the smoothly flowing water, the grandiosity of looking up at the canyons and the peacefulness was palpable. We decided to sit in the dirt and just linger there. After a while, another hiker came up and stood around for a while admiring the beauty of the canyon and then gingerly asked if she could join us. She said, “I have never heard silence before.” Of course, we encouraged her to stay and sit with us for a while. How could listening to some moments of silence each day this month be restorative for us? Maybe during this time of noise there is a time for a restorative and exquisite pause of silence.

Jimmy Kimmel recently asked 100-year-old Norman Lear, the American producer, writer and director, what advice he had for living a long and happy life. Lear related that living in the moment was important. And then he said, "In between the past and what's next, there's this little hammock of now. That's where you have to live." I love that word picture, the “little hammock of now.” Maybe as we look back or look ahead, we choose an exquisite pause of tenderly reflecting on the “hammock of now.”

What might our “hammock of now” look like? Between the “past” and “what is next”…what is the now? 

How might we practice trying more softly? 

In what ways could we be softer with ourselves?

How could we practice being softer with others? 

Photo taken in dallas, texas.

In what way does our heart yearn for tenderness? 

In what ways could we be more tender with ourselves? 

How could we practice being more tender to those we love? 

Photo taken at sun valley ski resort, idaho.

I first fell in love with Brandi Carlisle’s music when I heard her sing “I Have a Voice” with Alicia Keys. The morning I was writing this piece, Carlisle’s song “Stay Gentle” came across my social media feed. So beautiful, and so appropriate to this month’s concept of living softly and tenderly. Enjoy!

The reality is that living softly and tenderly takes a lot of strength and courage. We are precious, fragile, strong and loving beings. We desire to be loved and seen and heard and understood. May we lean into our strength, our vulnerability, our desire to cherish the “hammock of now” as we walk through December in a meaningful way – a softly and tenderly way. 

You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions. If you are not on social media, you may click on the button below and find the photography and the reflections.

Nostalgia in November - Sometimes Bittersweet, Sometimes Lovely, Sometimes Just Hard

As we enter into November, let’s take a few moments to focus on the topic of nostalgia. What is a moment of nostalgia for you? 

Let’s focus on the various senses as we reflect on the feeling of nostalgia.

What does nostalgia look like?  

What does nostalgia smell like?  

What does nostalgia taste like?  

What does nostalgia feel like?  

What does nostalgia sound like?

One sweet, nostalgic moment I had recently came from a pic my sister sent me of an antique electric fan from our family lake house at Lake Kemp, near Seymour, TX. The lake house has been in our family forever, and we grew up going there often, and still go to the lake during the summers. The fan is well traveled: it’s been in our game room in Amarillo, TX, our basement in West Des Moines, IA, and then upon moving to Dallas, TX, we decided to let go of it and share it with whoever in the family might want the antique fan. My sister chose to have it re-wired and make it functional, so the fan is currently in Abilene, TX.

Photo taken by Annette Wise in Abilene, Texas.

When I saw the image of the fan in their home, I was immediately catapulted back to the lake as a little girl, sitting at the rectangular table that featured images of fish on each corner. The fish could be seen underneath the multiple coats of varnish lovingly applied by my grandmother, Tinie. I could hear the whir of the fan: it would swing to the right, clickety click, and then swing to the left, clickety click, clickety click, click, click, and I would always wonder if it was about to quit working with that extra click, click to the left. I could feel the sweep of the moving air. The fan seemed to offer a melodic hum of comfort in my memory. 

What about the smell of nostalgia? As a teenager, I can recall walking into our home after a full day of high school and smelling the freshly baked homemade bread or Italian cream cake or apple dumplings or peach cobbler that Mom had lovingly made for our supper. We had fresh bread and homemade desserts almost every night. Mom loved baking and we loved being on the receiving end. I wanted to be the same kind of Mom to my kids. And while they did walk into a house full of aromas from freshly baked treats, it was definitely more likely to be Betty Crocker brownies or Nestlé slice and bake cookies.

Photo taken in Lubbock, Texas.

Regarded through centuries as a “psychological ailment,” nostalgia is now emerging as a fundamental human strength. According to one research study, nostalgia may be uniquely positioned to offer integrative insights across such important areas of psychology as memory, emotion, the self and relationships. 

We can also see that nostalgia is a social emotion in that it often involves other people. And when we experience nostalgia together, our ties with others are often reaffirmed and can spark nostalgic conversations. Even during life transitions when we might be feeling socially isolated, thoughts of times with others may be grounding for us.

While spending a few days recently with some friends that I grew up with, I asked what they might feel nostalgic about. Many of the thoughts that surfaced were from our school days. It was fun to share the memories of the sweaty stench of the old P.E. gym, the science lab that smelled of sulphur and other chemicals, the sound of the pep rallies, the smells and tastes from the lunch room. And of course, the delicious restaurants in Lubbock, TX also produced nostalgic moments of yumminess: the Brittany Restaurant with a red phone at each booth used to place your order, the chili cheeseburger from Char King, the aroma as you walked into the Little Italy and saw the chef tossing the pizza dough, and of course, the scrumptious blueberry muffins at the 50 Yard Line. We also had fun reminiscing about special friendships and memories by looking at pictures. Ahh…the joy of remembering and cherishing.

Photo taken at Kingdom Possum Lake, Texas.

A hard nostalgic, maybe even bittersweet memory for me involves my cousin, Mitzi. As a little girl, she was my best friend. Sadly, Mitzi had Cystic Fibrosis. One treatment they used back then was a mist tent, and she and I would sit in it together and play Rummy and Chutes and Ladders or Candy Land together while she did her daily treatment. I can’t recall how long we would sit in the tent, but the medicine that was mixed in with the mist had a very distinctive smell, and I am confident that if I were to smell that today, I would recognize it immediately.  

After we completed the mist treatment, Mitzi would have a session on the clap board, and THEN we would get to ride on her beautiful palomino Quarter Horse, Denver. Riding around the ranch with Mitzi was the best prize ever. I loved her so much, and was so very sad when she passed away at the age of eight—my first experience with grief, at age nine. I am confident that being friends with Mitzi was my primer for empathy. This is the epitome of bittersweet—the sweet of spending so much of our childhood together as cousins AND the bitterness of the loss of Mitzi’s life coupled with my lack of understanding about the expected projection of her illness. Thankfully there has been great research and progress for those with Cystic Fibrosis.

Photo taken at Anchor M. Ranch in Seymour, Texas.

Many nostalgic narratives might contain descriptions of disappointments and losses, physical injury, separation, trauma, and even death. 

Our stories are our neurobiological framework through which we experience life. These stories—the compilation of sensations, ideas, relationships, events, and emotions—affect how we see the world.  

There is sometimes an idealized and self-protective version of our memories. My sisters and I often laugh together and help each other out on the accuracy of our memories as the three of us certainly don’t always remember things in the same way!  

I recall listening to my husband’s father, Papa, tell us about his high school glory days of basketball. It seems that in later years, his “best shot” kept inching farther away from the basket each time the story was told. Meme, Roger’s mom, would just laugh and say, “The older we get, the better he was.” So it sometimes goes with nostalgia.  

Photo taken in Spearman, Texas.

The sounds of nostalgia can involve noises that startle us or even trigger trauma: a rattlesnake rattle, a gunshot, a fire with its unpredictable rage and crackle and pop, a harsh word, or potentially the eerie sound of silence in a difficult conversation when we are longing for a response. 

Of course, music is a phenomenal invitation to nostalgic moments. The role of music therapy in assisted living facilities is so precious as the research AND the response of participants is moving. When Mom is having a challenging day, if I put on a Lawrence Welk or Frank Sinatra tune for her to listen to, her whole affect changes.  

What is a song that moves you? What is a musical score that feels nostalgic for you? What are the details of where you were, who you were with, what you wore? It is amazing how the “Polaroid memory” can become much clearer with just a little time and focus. 

What a gift to be able to share memories with others, those of longing and pain and memories of joy. By sharing the memories, not only can we reality check their accuracy, we can give witness to the hurt, the pain, the happiness, and the joys of the moments. We sometimes have to agree to disagree on how things happened. No wonder…in our uniqueness we all experience life differently, have different needs and temperaments. Therefore, on any given day any two people experiencing the same exact situation could have a different outlook, narrative, or feeling of the moment.

As we reflect on moments of nostalgia this month, let’s trust our senses and our nostalgic stories to invite us and lead us into moments of care for our hearts. Nostalgia can contribute to the enduring meaning of one’s life. When I asked Roger to write a poem about nostalgia, he surprised me with this treasure. It is always a special moment when Roger reads me his poetry for the first time. I knew this poem was special as prior to reading the poem, I noticed tender tears in his eyes.

You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions. If you are not on social media, you may click on the button below and find the photography and the reflections.

Ode to October – Change, Reflection, Welcoming Wonder

photo taken in West Des Moines, Iowa.

Behold the colors! Depending of course, on where you live, it is likely the leaves are changing colors. Change can be beautiful and complicated! We can readily welcome the change of the autumn crisp air from the harsh summer heat and high temperatures. And we can be resistant to change as well.

One evening in West Des Moines, IA, Roger and I were taking an evening stroll and our neighbor’s outdoor lighting elaborately showcased these leaves. I captured this image with my cell phone and upon returning home, I immediately went to “google it,” as the grandkids say, whenever curiosity strikes a chord in us.

Photo taken in West Des Moines Iowa.

Thanks to brittanica.com, this is what I found to deepen my understanding of the process of change: 

“In many places around the world, autumn is marked by the slow, beautiful change of green foliage to vibrant reds, oranges, yellows, and purples. Green leaves appear green because of the presence of the pigment chlorophyll, which is key to photosynthesis. In temperate regions, cold winters pose a risk to the leaves of broadleaf trees and other perennials and so these plants drop their leaves in a controlled fashion to reduce injuries and conserve energy. This event is usually triggered by the declining day length and falling temperatures of autumn. Leaf abscission (the technical term for the dropping of leaves) begins with the degradation of chlorophyll. 

As the green fades, yellow and orange pigments known as carotenoids are revealed in the leaves of many species. In other plants, pigments called anthocyanins accumulate in the leaves at this time, giving them shades of red and purple. Some of the most beautiful fall foliage features both types of pigments, often with one color giving way to the next as the season progresses. Eventually all the leaves are dropped, and the plant goes dormant for the long winter months.” 

This month as we reflect on the beauty of the changing leaves, may we pause and reflect on the areas of change that we invite in, those we feel comfortable with, AND the areas of change that we are challenged by. Maybe it is sending our teenager off to college; maybe it is sending our young child off to pre-k or kindergarten; maybe it’s working through intimacy issues from a cancer treatment/diagnosis; maybe it’s walking through the degeneration of health with a loved one; maybe it’s beginning a new position at work and feeling overwhelmed with the new responsibilities; maybe it’s struggling with the ever changing political climate; maybe it’s walking through the journey of a blended family…. There are so many changes, and no one way, no sure way, no certain way, no guarantees on the best, easiest, fastest way to step into and navigate the challenges.

Photo taken in West Des Moines, Iowa.

I recently came upon a thought-provoking quote by Octavia E. Butler about change: “All that you touch. You Change. All that you Change Changes you. The only lasting truth is Change. God is Change.” How does that quote cause us to pause and contemplate?

What if, as we notice the beautiful changing leaves, we take a moment to pause – notice the change, reflect on what change might look like for us…and welcome in the wonder. The wonder of NOT knowing, the wonder of not being sure, the wonder of the ambiguity of it all. How might we respond in this time – a season of reflection and pausing?

Joyce Rupp, an author and spiritual director, is such an inspiration to me. She and I would sometimes run into one another on our daily walks around Raccoon River in Des Moines, IA. Joyce writes, “If we want to be spiritually transformed it is essential to include letting go as part of our journey. Each autumn I now seek inspiration from those dying leaves gathering in ever deeper layers on the ground. As the trees let go of what enabled them to sip of the nourishing rays of summer sun, their falling leaves will eventually become a rich humus to nourish spring’s greening growth. If I stay open to the inner and outer changes that naturally arise, (if I dance more and drag my feet less about impermanence), my life can be a nourishing source for personal and world transformation.”

Photo taken in WEst Des Moines, Iowa.

What is it that we might need to let go of? What are our fears and concerns about loosening our grip and letting go of this one particular thing/thought/idea? Each fall I pull out this adaptation of a poem by Macrina Wiederkehr to reflect upon….

The Sacrament of Letting Go

Slowly she celebrated the sacrament of letting go.

First she surrendered her green, then the orange, yellow, and red.

Finally, she let go of her brown.

Shedding her last leaf, she stood empty and silent, stripped bare.

Leaning against the winter sky, she began her vigil of trust.

Shedding her last leaf, she watched its journey to the ground.

She stood in silence wearing the color of emptiness,

Her branches wondering, ‘How do you give shade with so much gone?’

And then, the sacrament of waiting began.

The sunrise and the sunset watched with tenderness.

Clothing her with silhouettes, they kept her hope alive.

They helped her understand that her vulnerability,

Her dependence and need, her emptiness,

Her readiness to receive

Were giving her a new kind of beauty.

Every morning and every evening,

They stood in silence and celebrated together

The sacrament of waiting.

May we allow the poem and the images of leaves and thoughts of October throughout the month to remind us to contemplate the idea of change, pause and reflect, and then ultimately invite wonder into our everyday by accentuating the pause of the day, the hour, the moment. 

You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions. If you are not on social media, you may click on the button below and find the photography and the reflections.

Noticing Nature – I Notice, I Wonder & This Reminds Me

An intense appreciation of nature is a gift that our parents gave Melinda, Annette and me. Dad always wanted to explain how a bluebonnet propagated, why the river would flow as it did, how a turkey roosts in a tree, the details of lily pads, the direction of the wind and the force of the water, the lifecycle of peach trees—from blossom to the first delicious and juicy bite right off of the tree. 

Mom and Dad encouraged us to have pets and “notice nature” in that way, too: parakeets, cats, dogs, quail, ducks, horses, peacocks. As a little girl, I can recall sitting in a field with Dad and he would point out some small, yet significant piece of nature that he wanted me to notice. “Dianne, look at this,” he’d say as he was pointing to a petal of a flower or the stripes in the leaf of a plant. He often would talk about God as the Creator. 

We were encouraged to enjoy nature, love our pets well and have fun outdoors—play in the rain, jump in a mud puddle, play in the river!

Photos taken in Seymour, Texas.

Mom and Dad’s grandkids have also been the recipients of the noticing-nature gift. Of course, there were times that we were not really interested in such details and would secretly wish Dad would get through the nature lesson more quickly! Now, of course, after Dad has passed away, any of us would love to linger and listen to just one more of Grandy’s nature lessons. 

Roger and I find ourselves wanting to share this priceless legacy with Joy and Emilia, our granddaughters. I want to teach them about awe…and wonder…and nature…and worship.

Photos taken in Dallas, Texas.

We touch…and smell…and listen…lie on our backs and look at the stars…and watch the clouds make pictures…and hunt for bugs and butterflies…and fill our buckets with important treasures…like rocks and sticks and such. 

Roger and I often find ourselves reaching up in heavenly praise as we are hiking…we just can’t help ourselves as we are trying to embrace the moment…of the beauty, of the sacredness, of the grandeur.

Photo taken of Roger at Crater Lake, Oregon.

How can we be open to learning about nature? The scientific method begins with observation. Looking through a magnifying glass is more than just “looking” … it can be using our senses, combining our base of knowledge and getting curious and asking questions.

A recent article in the Fort Worth Botanical Garden Newsletter proposes these three steps: 

Step 1:  I notice…

Consider using tools such as magnifying glasses or binoculars to expand what you can see, and use senses other than sight. What can you hear, feel, or smell? 

Step 2:  I wonder…

This step encourages children to ask questions about what they’ve observed, and the prompt “I wonder” invites them to imagine possibilities. 

Step 3:  It reminds me of…

This step helps kids make connections between what they’ve observed and what they already know. Reminders can be wide open and based on previous observations. A great observation is, “The veins on this leaf remind me of the palm of my hand.”  Reminders can also draw upon experiences: “This leaf reminds me of the time we raked leaves last fall.” Or reminders can share knowledge or information you have: “This leaf reminds me of learning about how plants synthesize energy from sunlight.” 

Not only as children, but as adults, how can we notice nature? The three steps above are wonderful doors to assist us in our ability to be mindful of nature around us. 

Our access to nature may vary for each of us depending on our locale and living environments. Maybe you live on a lake and yet have become complacent about the majestic geese flying in each morning. Maybe you are in a high-rise apartment in a city and have to travel miles to get out of the concrete jungle. As with most things, the desire to notice nature and surround ourselves with nature must begin with intention…and then…and THEN, the wonder and awe can begin!  

Could it be that you could buy an indoor plant or a fish or turtle to befriend you in your apartment? Could it be that your dog invites you into the journey of appreciating nature as you pay closer attention to her ears, the wag of her tail, the wisdom of her affection for you? Could it be that you seek out a walking trail near you with a babbling brook running alongside? Could it be that the expansiveness of the stars and the moon and the sun invite you to marvel at their steadfast and loyal magnificence for you? 

Could it be that you begin to notice own body as a miraculous instrument of creation – yes, you are marvelous and your body is a miraculous work of art. Not only can we experience nature through our senses of taste, sight, touch, hearing and smell—what about being grateful that we can taste the deliciousness of a ripe, red watermelon on a hot summer day; that our eyes allow us to see the sun peeking over the horizon on a crisp, dewy morning; that we have touch to feel the soft, tender, velvety petal of a rose; that we can hear a red bird’s melodious morning song; and that we can smell the upbeat and cheerful citrus scent of an orange. 

Because I am an avid photographer of nature, I am often in awe. Or is it that because I am an avid “noticer” of nature and often in awe, I am a photographer? 

Taking and embracing a photographic image is a gratitude practice for me…a “Kodak moment” that I want to cherish for the day. We are so fortunate to often have our cell phones with us that we can honor the image of the ant crawling on the bark, the flower presenting its blossom first thing in the morning, the squirrel carefully hiding the nut, or the child reaching out to discover more of this beautiful world. (Image of the butterfly and girl’s hands)

Photo taken at Fort Worth Botanical Center, Fort Worth, Texas.

Have You Noticed…

by Roger C. Jones

Have you noticed…

Anger hinders critical thinking

Venomous comments don’t change minds

A hurting soul lingers underneath a mean person

Yesterday and tomorrow haunt the unfocused mind.

  And…

Drab winter hydrangeas emerge in colorful spring splendor 

Crisp wind enlivens the body and lifts the spirit

Nothing rivals a yellow, orange and red summer sunset

We view dreamy distant stars when we look up

Inspiring music mesmerizes the soul into melodic rapture

One thoughtful exchange can change the course of a life

Only intention and concentration permit us to really listen

Every day, kindness emerges in many ways

Every way, love becomes a little stronger and

You are distinctive and unique and precious.

May your September be full of times to notice, to wonder and to remind yourself of the connections in life. 

You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions. If you are not on social media, you may click on the button below and find the photography and the reflections.

The Art of Life – Cultivating Creativity

Does even this title alone scare you? To some, the title has two very scary words in it: art, and creativity. 

Often, we have “art scars,” instances from our past when another has remarked upon or rejected our creative endeavors in a way that made us think we were “not good enough.” The comparisons brought on by others AND ourselves can be enough to make us believe we are not creative. 

I believe that we are ALL incredibly creative. We often associate creativity with art, but creativity occurs in all domains of life. We come up with creative solutions every day – how to parent through Covid, how to design a financial plan, how to argue a law case, how to produce a film, how to budget for the month, how to craft a day in retirement, how to plan a vacation, how to construct a bridge, how to reach out and touch a friend who seems to be pulling away. So many moments of creativity go into our days. 

Recently as Roger and I were visiting with our friend, Dendrale, I noticed the tattoo on his left arm that said, “Art of Life.” Although we have been friends for a while, I hadn’t noticed his tattoo before as he normally has long sleeves on – however, long sleeves are not the attire for a summer day at the park in Dallas! I was grateful for his short sleeves because I got to see his tattoo. 

Photos taken in Dallas, Texas.

In our regular conversations we strive to be open and honest with one another, but to me a tattoo is a gentle invitation. I wanted to see more of his beautiful heart, so later I emailed Dendrale. “Can you tell me about your tattoo, Dendrale?” I wrote. “What do those words mean to you?”

“To me,” he responded, “the Art of Life means that essentially all experiences that make up life, from the most vile to the most beautiful, have an inherent intention and profound idea at the root of them. Such that could only be perceived and appreciated by humans when the ego is silenced and higher perception comes forward.”  

I’m so glad I said yes to the invitation to ask for more—and so grateful to Dendrale for sharing his profound reflections! 

Now, how about you? What meaning or energy do the words “Art of Life” hold for you? Do images like artists’ palettes, artists, drawing, painting, or color pop into your mind? Or, do more philosophical ideas like the meaning of life, our intentions, the design of life, or how we “color” our world by our choices come to mind?  

Or, is it how we love and live our life in a way that is art – full of grace, compassion, genuineness, hope, kindness and love – where we are the paintbrushes, a tool of the Art of Life? What if we are gifted with a life that gives us the opportunity to create something new every day? A way of living that says if we can be courageous and authentic enough, then we can make a unique offering to our friends, our family, our community. And just like an artist’s palette, it can be messy.

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

Creativity is such a gift…and one that remains unopened for many. Too often we might have labeled ourselves as “not creative” or “not artistic” due to stories in our heads that may not be true. How often do we let comparison steal our creativity confidence?  

Artwork by Dianne Morris Jones.

One way to remind ourselves of the inherent creativity within each of us is to watch children play or listen to them talk. Our granddaughters continually inspire us to think big in the creativity department. One day last spring as we were in the “peaceful garden” picking peaches, our then three-year-old granddaughter explained, “Lovey, all you have to do is push your imagination button” as she lifted her shirt and pushed her belly button, “and ‘Zing’ you have your imagination.” I asked her if creativity had anything to do with imagination, and she said, “Yes, it is when you just use your own imagination.”  

I LOVED her response! 

Photos taken in Dallas, Texas.

Cultivating creativity helps me feel most fully alive. Whether it is working in the flower garden, writing, playing with the grandkids, preparing a meal, decorating a table for a meal, playing with watercolor pencils, or writing this email/blog, creativity can be big or small moments. Creativity can come easily, or it can be a courageous and vulnerable endeavor.

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, noted for his research on creativity and well known for his book, Flow, writes, “Creativity is a central source of meaning in our lives...most of the things that are interesting, important, and human are the results of creativity...when we are involved in it, we feel that we are living more fully than during the rest of life.”

Speaking of creativity, Roger has flourished upon retirement in studying and writing poetry. I have loved watching him bloom in his creative endeavor as he shares a peek into his loving and compassionate heart. 

The Art of Our Lives

by Roger C. Jones

Our art begins when we examine

our lives

The mastery of that art is the labor

of our lives

Our journey of the art endures

all our lives

The discipline of our art yields fruit

in our lives

The array of our art bears spice

to our lives

The delight of our art decorates

our lives

Destined we are to create and unleash

the art of our lives

What a treat we have for you this month in our daily Instagram and Facebook posts/reflections! We will be featuring the giftedness of multiple artists as they share their reflections on The Art of Life with us: their art, their hearts, and their creativity. Some of the artists are professional, some are very young, some are poets, some are potters, some are photographers – and some are trying out new forms of creativity for the first time. May you be inspired by their beauty. 

Thanks so much to those who contributed. I can’t wait to share with the world what you have so generously shared with me…your talents, your outlook, your hearts. 

If you are not on social media, please join us in this amazing feast of reflections – you can download the PDF below.

May you be encouraged to cultivate creativity in your everyday and extraordinary world. May our Art of Life imaginings and beauty blossom and bloom in our hearts and courageously through our hands as we embrace the concept of cultivating creativity.

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

H2O - The Refreshment and Calm of Water

Water can provide refreshment. Refreshment is defined as 1. a light snack or drink, 2. the giving of fresh mental or physical strength or energy. It is no secret that our need for drinking water and especially during the hot summer months is important, helpful, even critical for a healthy body, especially a healthy brain. 

Water can also provide calm. For me, water is a balm to my soul. The times when we can be near water—a lake, a stream, a waterfall, an ocean, a swimming pool, a river, a fountain, a rain—are such life-giving experiences. Even tears can be refreshing! There can be many gifts and surprises along the way – inviting us to the space to listen, to simply be, to respond to movement, to be our most authentic selves.

I grew up going to Lake Kemp, near Seymour, TX. My sisters and I learned to appreciate the fun, bonding and connection that can occur with “Lake Life”. Do you have a childhood memory of being around water? Here are my sisters and me with the catch of the day –

Photo taken at Lake Kemp, Seymour, Texas.

And many years later, just recently, my heart was filled full by sitting on the dock early in the morning, holding my coffee cup, admiring the water—so still and serene—watching a spider weave its web between the two posts on the dock as the sun rose and the web glistened in the sun. Ahhh…the beauty of nature. 

Photo taken at Lake Kemp, Seymour, Texas.

We have never lived near a beach, but Roger and I often choose a beach for a travel destination, all for the refreshment of the water…the fun kayaking, paddle boarding, walking and relaxing on the beach. 

Photo taken at Rosemary Beach, Florida.

One significant memory was Mother’s Day in San Diego, CA several years ago…. Justin and Jill were both in college and somehow we were able to vacation together for a week. As I sat alone, out early by the ocean to embrace the sunrise, listening to the waves hit the sandy shore and watch the whales jump, I began reflecting on my role as a Mother. I don’t know if I would have reached the depth of my feelings and the ability to express them to Justin and Jill without the calm, reflective qualities of the water, and the way it drew out the depths of my soul. Regardless, I am grateful for that moment. Over several hours on the beach and journaling, I wrote Justin and Jill a short letter and read it to them that afternoon…expressing my love, my desire for a communicative relationship, and to ask for forgiveness when I might have “missed them”. I shared that maybe I didn’t know well how to express my tears, my frustrations, my hurts, my fears. What I recognized is I wanted to be more intentional in my communication and be vulnerable as a Mom and wanted to invite them to be open and expressive with me as well. We could circle back and clarify the unclear messages at times when needed.

I recognized this would be somewhat new territory for us and wanted to name it with them so that they could help me. If they wanted the same, we could help one another. The deepening call to the soul of water is powerful.

Photo taken in San Diego, California.

My morning ritual is to sit by the pool in my jammies, listen to the birds sing, love on Sterling, our silver lab, journal, pray, meditate, reflect on the day or the moment of the heart. It is a necessary and nourishing practice for me. 

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

With the grandchildren, it is such an honor to teach them the beauty and value of water…the reflections we see, the ducks swimming, the leaves racing down the waterfall, the frogs jumping, the waves and puddles at the beach. 

Photos taken at Prairie Creek Park, Richardson, Texas (left), and Santa Rosa Beach, Florida (right)

And of course, water is such an invitation to play. 

Photos taken at Anna Maria Island, Florida (left), Nine Retreat, Lake Tahoe, California (center), and Des Moines River, Iowa (right).

In addition, water can be a source of calm. Water is a significant choice for emotional regulation. Where might we find calm from water? A refreshing shower? A drink of cool water? A wet cloth wiped across a sweaty brow? Looking out on an ocean or lake? 

One way I like to reflect on the power and the source of life of water is to have freshly cut flowers in the kitchen. The flowers often remind me of their need for water as sustenance. I gladly thank the flowers for the reminder as I give them the water they need to beautifully bloom, and that Yes, I too need water to bloom and flourish. 

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

May our hearts and our souls and our bodies be nourished and refreshed by water. May we be grateful for the gift of water. May we drink water fervently. May we cherish and care for the source of water. May we pay attention to how water can be calming for us.

Photo taken at Raccoon River Lake, West Des Moines, Iowa.

Roger has written a poem to share with you….

Water Drops

By Roger C. Jones

Say

 you are 

a drop of 

water. Let’s play

 make-believe and pre-

tend that you have some

family/friend drops. Imagine 

you’re taking them on vacation, now

 where will you go? The beach surf offers 

endless opportunities to rise into a crest, curl, 

and crash. You will mesmerize beach goers with the 

steady rhythm of wave after wave.   Now there’s the 

rivers and all those opportunities to run fast and free,  

maybe launch headlong down steep waterfalls and join

 the audacious chorus of crashing water.   Then perhaps a

 foray into some of the millions of mother earth’s lakes—

each unique in character, boasting vistas of grandeur,  

reflections of the shining sun & blue sky, & sanctuary 

for marine life & waterfowl. For a diversion, we have

 the majestic polar ice caps with their stark and 

frigid icescapes; be careful, a stay there may

last several millennia.   Of course,

  let’s not forget the seven 

wonderful…

O-

ceans

covering the

vast majority of

this  living  planet

with  their  stormy

ways   and    end-

less span. Bon

Voyage!

This month as we reflect on the beauty of nature and the magnificence of water, I will be sharing images of water with you with a quote and a reflective question. Please join me in focusing in on the refreshment, the calm, and the nourishment to our souls that water can provide. You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions. If you are not on social media, you may click on the button below and find the photography and the reflections.

Bridges and Wedge

Bridges and Wedges

June 1, 2022

Photo taken at Huntington Botanical Center, San Marino, Texas.

Am I a bridge builder or a wedge driver in my relationships? The time and energy of a reflective process of distinguishing between the two can be insightful. Discerning whether we are a bridge builder or a wedge driver—in our thoughts, in our feelings, in our behaviors—is an awareness practice that invites us to open our hearts and look closely at our intentions. 

On an elementary level, a bridge is something that connects two things that are apart. A wedge is something that drives two things apart.

Photo taken of the Elisabeth Bridge in Budapest, Hungary.

A bridge is a structure built to span a physical obstacle such as a body of water, valley, road or rail without blocking the way underneath. It is constructed for the purpose of providing passage over the obstacle, which is usually something that is difficult or impossible to cross.

A wedge is 1) a piece of a substance such as wood or iron that tapers to a thin edge and is used for splitting wood and rocks, raising heavy bodies, or for tightening by being driven into something, 2) something causing a breach or separation or something used to initiate an action or development. 

What are things we can do to build a bridge in our relationships that are struggling and/or to create healthy, lasting relationships? Some examples might be a call, a text, any form of communication, a prayer, an act of kindness, a walk together, a courageous conversation and/or looking for the best in another.

What are some things we do that drive a wedge in our relationships that are struggling and/or that undermine healthy, lasting relationships? Some examples might be judgment, blaming, pulling away, choosing not to communicate, withholding love and/or contemptuous conversation. 

Artwork by Dianne Morris Jones.

The idea of small acts of kindness is appropriate here in that it can be small actions that are bridge-building acts and it can also be small acts, or maybe lack of action, that can cause wedges in relationships. At times, a small action can be a huge step!

Our relationships are fluid and dynamic. Often in counseling we are working through various scenarios involving relationships. Recall Viktor Frankl’s famous quote: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.“ I would also say that in that space—especially in relationships—we have a choice to reach out in a loving, kind and caring way, or act in a way that is unkind, un-attentive or uncommunicative. The questions to ask ourselves for our growth and our freedom is what are the things we can do to be a bridge builder in our relationships—with others as well as the relationship we have with ourselves? What are the things we do that create wedges in our relationship—with others as well as the relationship we have with ourselves? 

The Bridges

by Roger C. Jones

Bridges, be they the Golden Gate, Brooklyn or

Madison County, are constructed of steel and

concrete and cable.  They glistened in sunlight,

stately standing to provide passage over streams,

rivers, bays and sometimes seas.  We drive over 

them barely paying attention to their provision of 

safe and efficient passage. People fish on them,

take pictures, even bungee jump from them

…but there are other kinds of bridges…

What if the bridge is one of us saying 

I’m sorry for the harsh comment I made?

Maybe the bridge is a timely text citing

“You’ve got this one, friend!”

Perhaps the bridge is that phone call you

made to me when my mother had passed?

What if the bridge is getting out of our comfort 

zone and reaching out to a stranger in need?

These are the bridges constructed from love,

thoughtfulness, empathy and compassion.

They stand through the ages, spanning the 

gulfs that would hold us as isolated islands and

strand us apart.

This month we will focus on words of encouragement inviting us to build bridges in our relationships—both with ourselves and with others. 

May we create some time to reflect on the beauty, the value and the stability of the bridges we build as we yearn and cultivate connection with one another. You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions. If you are not on social media, you may click on the button below and find the photography and the reflections.

Metamorphosis of Hope – Inside and Out

Metamorphosis of Hope – Inside and Out

01, May 2022

The Blue Morpho Butterfly is a glorious spectacle due to the wondrous hues and patterns of its wings. I wonder what lessons we can learn from this beauty? Roger and I took our precious granddaughters to the Fort Worth Botanical Center to their Butterfly Exhibit. We were astonished about what we saw after the brown butterfly landed on our granddaughter’s finger. The gorgeous butterfly, with all of its detailed, fascinating markings in shades of brown were visible with its wings closed. The butterfly gently opened its wings. What we giddily discovered was its wings were an amazing, vibrant, breathtaking blue as you can see below in the image on the right.

Photo taken at Fort Worth Botanical Center, Fort Worth, Texas.

The butterfly made me wonder…what armor or camouflage do I try to use to protect my fragile heart? What vibrancy is the color of my soul when I am courageous enough to sparkle and shine to be the woman I am created to be? 

Of course, I would like to think of myself as always having been a very authentic, Velveteen Rabbit “real,” open, sincere and genuine person. And I think in many ways I am congruent on the inside and outside. However, letting go of putting on the mask of perfectionism, being open to sharing my struggles, and being intentional to the daily practice of courage and vulnerability continue to be a growing edge for me. 

One of Dr. Brené Brown’s greatest gifts is putting language to difficult concepts. I treasure her definition of authenticity: 

 “Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.

Choosing authenticity means

• cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable;

• exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle; and

• nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe we are strong enough.

Authenticity demands wholehearted living and loving – even when it’s hard, even when we’re wrestling with the shame and fear of not being good enough, and especially when the joy is so intense that we’re afraid to let ourselves feel it.

Mindfully practicing authenticity during our most soul-searching struggles is how we invite grace, joy and gratitude into our lives.”

The beauty of the butterfly and the beauty of authenticity have a few things in common. It seems to me that the metamorphosis of hope for the world is vibrant. It also seems to me that the hope for the world begins with the hope in each of our hearts. When we can live most fully alive – in line with our values, being our most authentic selves – then we are most likely to contribute to the world in a way that gives the world a collective sustenance and a heartbeat of hope. May the metamorphosis of hope be cultivated in each of our hearts. 

Inspired by our visit to the Botanical Center, Roger wrote this poem, which I’m pleased to share with you:

Butterfly Questions

by Roger C. Jones

O Butterfly, 

From humble egg to caterpillar to pupa to brilliant butterfly–

The parts of your journey all so different 

Did you stress over who you

were and what you were destined to be?

Did you ever feel smug and content with 

your station, resisting forthcoming changes?

Or, did you wish at times in the pilgrimage

that you were different than who you were?

Did you practice letting go of who you thought you

were supposed to be and embrace who you are?*

Did you embrace each and every waking hour–

you know, the Carpe Diem thing?

Did your green caterpillar-self get bored at munching 

leaf after leaf, day after day?

No rush on your answers, O Butterfly.  Time for me to 

fix lunch.

*Dr. Brene´ Brown’s definition of authenticity.

There are so many thoughts and questions to consider in cultivating authenticity and hope. I am grateful for you being on this journey with me. May we look each day this month to discover how we are opening up to allowing our deepest self, our true nature, our spectacular soul, to sparkle and shine and spill out into the world. 

You may follow me on Facebook or Instagram for daily encouragement and reflective questions – and this month, images of butterflies that I have photographed, often while Roger and I were hiking. If you are not on social media, you may go to my website, www.diannemorrisjones, and find the photography and the reflections under A Gift for You.

May we join in the metamorphosis of hope through our intentions and our presence in bringing together both our inner and our outer worlds. May we create space and time that we can explore the depths of our hearts. May we discover the richness and the beauty of who we are and how we can be loving and compassionate to ourselves and others.

The Gift of Luminosity – Longing and Looking for Light

The Gift of Luminosity – Longing and Looking for Light

April 01, 2022

Photo taken in Anchorage, Alaska.

“This little light of mine…I’m gonna let it shine.” Do the words and tune bring up memories from your childhood? Often thought of as an African-American spiritual, the song is also found in hymn books. I know I first learned this song in Vacation Bible School as a little, curious, brown-eyed girl at the First Methodist Church in Seymour, Texas. My grandmother and grandfather would sing the song along with me and my sisters as we would swing in their white porch swing on their columned front porch as Ninie would be knitting a colorful hat and Grandy was shelling pecans with his weathered hands. 

My favorite version of the song is sung by Odetta Holmes. Not only is she often referred to as “The Voice of the Human Rights Movement,” her voice is gorgeous. Listening to her sing makes me want to crawl up in her lap and let her rock me as she sings. You can listen to it by clicking on the button below:

The quote, “Our inner being is a lamp of God’s love” by Joyce Rupp is written on a note card and attached to a lantern on my desk. I love the little old antique lantern and wish I knew the stories of the many nights that it provided light. The quote is a lovely, tangible reminder of the source of love needed at times when I desire to dig deep in my heart for the courage and exquisite risk to love big. 

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

How during this time of peril in our world can we stumble through our fears, our insecurities and the uncertainties of it all and let our light shine? How can we choose hope in the darkness of pain? How can we pay attention to and perform acts of kindness and amplify them in the world?

Photo taken in Anchorage, Alaska.

We are all meant to shine. We were born to allow the beautiful embers within our own hearts to radiate warmth and love. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, it is contagious and we give other people permission to do the same. The ripple effect is an open and generous invitation to ourselves AND to others. 

If we can recognize the beauty within our hearts, we can release some of the fear of being seen and known. I love the spacious understanding of the heart as described by Jon Kabat-Zinn in his description of mindfulness: 

“Mindfulness means paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally. This kind of attention nurtures greater awareness, clarity and acceptance of present-moment reality. It wakes us up to the fact that our lives unfold, only in moments. If we are not fully present for many of those moments, we may not only miss what is most valuable in our lives, but also fail to realize the richness and the depth of our possibilities for growth and transformation.” – Jon Kabat-Zinn

How could it be that we have a growth-oriented understanding of the depth of the light within our hearts? How can we begin to understand that the essence of our being is to radiate luminosity?

I love this quote by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross: “People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”

Photo taken at Thanksgiving Square, Dallas, Texas.

In the midst of the darkness, we can hold on to the stars at night, the places where the light shines through the cracks of our broken hearts and our broken world.

As you arise each morning, may the sunrise bring you the gift of hope….

Photo taken at Possum Kingdom Lake, Texas.

And as you end each day, may the sunset bring you the gift of peace….

Photo taken at Maffitt Lake, West Des Moines, Iowa.

My husband, Roger, in his poem “You Illumine Me” ponders how others influence, indeed illumine, our paths. Enjoy.

You Illumine Me

by Roger C. Jones

As a single candle illumines a dark room

and reveals the shadows of tenderness,

your presence imbues light 

to my soul.

It’s hard to explain,

that mysterious connection–

person-to-person, eye-to-eye.

It’s hard to explain,

that warmth of spirit, 

bond, and kinship.

And when that fated

darkness returns, 

your bright courage

your glowing strength

unfurl for me

an enlightened space, 

once again.

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

My meditation and prayer for each of us and especially those in our world for the month of April is that we would look for the light. Each day I will be posting an image of light with a word of inspiration and hope. If you are not on Facebook/Instagram, please download the PDF below. As we share our light with one another, we are sharing a ray of hope.

Reach Out and Touch – Somebody's Hand

Reach Out and Touch – Somebody’s Hand

March 01, 2022

Hands That Love

by Roger C. Jones

Imagine hands that love as they

stroke, serve, reach, rub,

caress, cradle, hold, hug

Picture loving hands–

crooked, cracked and worn

tender, tough or torn

But hands can also

poke, pinch,

slap, slam…

Yet see them be

gentle, giving,

helping, healing

Yes deep in the heart

dwells that steady voice

inspiring us to have and offer–

hands that love.

Stop Breathe Believe Art by Monika Agic.

May we be grateful for our hands. If your hands have been injured or are missing, may you know my heart sees your pain. 

There can also be tremendous pain in the mis-use or abuse of touch. May this writing feel safe for you. I hold you in my heart with empathy and encouragement for your healing.

Let’s invite some time for ourselves here…

If possible, take a few minutes to look at the top of your hands. What would it feel like if we gazed at our hands with compassion? What is the history of our hands? Do they hurt? Do they struggle? Do they long for touch? Maybe there is a ring or tattoo that adorns your hands that holds meaning. Maybe not. Maybe you have critical judgments about your hands. 

Now, gently turn your hands over…observe the intricate lines. Your hands. Like no other. The uniqueness of your hands, your fingers, your fingerprints. 

What about the history of your hands? Do your hands look like your Mother’s? Your Father’s? Maybe you don’t know your Mother or your Father and you wonder, what did their hands look like? Maybe there is a scar, a crooked finger from an injury, a joint that aches with arthritis.

Our hands – the strength, the vitality, the ability to create, design, build. The beauty.

Just as The Divine can lovingly reach into our hearts and touch the very part that is the most fragile, how can we be tender in our touch?

How can we love with our hands more abundantly? There is a significant amount of hurt in our world, our countries, our states, our cities, our towns, our neighborhoods, our communities, our families, our relationships, and our hearts right now. How can we use our hands to heal? How can we hold space for another?

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

The title of this piece, "Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand)" is the debut solo single of singer Diana Ross, released in 1970 by Motown Records. The lyrics are so elegantly simple and so deeply meaningful that I am teaching them to our young granddaughters. How can the meaning of this song permeate the “giving center” of their little hearts and how can we let the power of the words sink into our hearts? 

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

I invite you to cue up this familiar tune and hum or sing along. Let its message speak to you: How can we hold space for those we love? How can we invite others into a circle of conversation vs. a tug-of-war of “our view” of right and wrong? May we pass on a lineage of loving hands and loving hearts to others. 

"Reach Out and Touch (Somebody's Hand)"

Reach out and touch
Somebody's hand
Make this world a better place
If you can
Reach out and touch
Somebody's hand
Make this world a better place
If you can

Take a little time out your busy day
To give encouragement
To someone who's lost the way
(Just try)
Or would I be talking to a stone
If I asked you
To share a problem that's not your own
(Oh no)
We can change things if we start giving
Why don't you

Reach out and touch
Somebody's hand
Make this world a better place
If you can
Reach out and touch
Somebody's hand
Make this world a better place
If you can

If you see an old friend on the street
And he's down
Remember his shoes could fit your feet
(Just try)
Try a little kindness and you'll see
It's something that comes 
Very naturally
(Oh yeah)
We can change things if we start giving

Why don't you 
(Why don't you)
Reach out and touch 
Somebody's hand

Reach out and touch (reach out)
Somebody's hand
Make this world a better place
If you can
Reach out and touch
Somebody's hand (touch somebody's hand)
Make this world a better place
If you can (why don't you)

Reach out and touch 
Somebody's hand (somebody's hand)
Make this world a better place
If you can

Songwriters: Nickolas Ashford / Valerie Simpson

This month, as we focus on Reach Out and Touch – Somebody’s Hand, I will be sharing images of hands – loving hands, time-worn hands, little hands, hands that work hard, hands that are tender and precious, hands demonstrating love. Along with these images, I will be sharing various quotes and thoughts to ponder. May we be inspired and encouraged to love deeply and to reach out and touch another in a caring and meaningful way.

You may follow me on Instagram or Facebook for daily posts or you may download the PDF below for the images and daily reflections.

Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.

Notes To Myself...Notes With Others

Notes To Myself…Notes With Others

February 01, 2022

Photography by Brent Yontz.

Have You Noticed…

by Roger C. Jones

Anger hinders critical thinking

Venomous comments don’t change minds

A hurting soul lingers underneath a mean person

Yesterday and tomorrow haunt the unfocused mind.

And…

Drab winter hydrangeas emerge in colorful spring splendor 

Crisp wind enlivens the body and lifts the spirit

Nothing rivals a yellow, orange and red summer sunset

We view dreamy distant stars when we look up

Inspiring music mesmerizes the soul into melodic rapture

One thoughtful exchange can change the course of a life

Only intention and concentration permit us to really listen

Every day, kindness emerges in many ways

Every way, love becomes a little stronger and

You are distinctive and unique and precious.

As Roger, my husband, and I were discussing his  poem, I asked  who he was thinking of as he wrote this poem, specifically the last line,  “You are distinctive and unique and precious”.  His response was, “No one in particular, I suppose it was more like notes to myself.” 

As we focus on friendship for the month of February, I want to focus on the idea of cherishing our friendships through the various seasons of life AND being intentional with our friendships in the current season of life.   

Recently Roger and I watched a special of Carole King and James Taylor.  Cue “You’ve Got a Friend”, a song that can catapult me back into my lime green bedroom on 62nd Drive in Lubbock, TX singing my fragile heart out to this song with my cassette player, designed with a hand-held mic especially for the dreamy teenager. What a time of negotiating friendships – those of middle school! Actually, discovering, nurturing, tending and growing friendships can be an ongoing process through each stage of our life.  It is an interesting process to look back at the “life map” of our individual friendships – each as unique as two fingerprints together.

Photography by Brent Yontz.

Friendship is such a rich experience and can bring up so fond memories of happiness and joy and intimacy and gratitude.  I am immensely grateful for friendships planted and nourished in the places I have lived – Seymour, TX; Lubbock, TX; Amarillo, TX;  Des Moines , Iowa; and now in Dallas, TX In addition to friends in the towns we have lived, there may be family or friends we have known a long time whom we cherish, and of course, the friends that we have only met or known briefly but that have carved a significant impact into our hearts. 

Each season of our life can hold invitations for friendships. At various times, our friendships will look differently.  We can also experience ruptures in our relationships that invite us to courageous and tender repair and restoration.  We so yearn for deep connection with others and at times it can get complicated.

I have admired the professional trailblazing of Virginia Satir, a pioneer in therapeutic work, and love her quote, “I believe the greatest gift I can conceive of having from anyone is to be seen by them, heard by them, to be understood by them and touched by them.  The greatest gift I can give is to see, hear, understand and to touch another person.”  When we hear of the ‘gift of friendship’, this represents the type of gift I would like to open and the kind of gift I so desire to give.

The invitation for connection and friendship for each of us is to be open to being our true selves, bringing our authenticity – the essence of who we are.  Yes, the vulnerability of such authenticity is palpable….and essential.  In Atlas of the Heart, the recently published book by Brené Brown, she differentiates Belonging and Fitting In, “Belonging as being somewhere where you want to be, and they want you.  Fitting In is being somewhere where you want to be, but they don’t care one way or the other”. Brené goes on to say, “Because we can feel belonging only if we have the courage to share our most authentic selves with people, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”  Challenging isn’t it?  

The challenge for growth-oriented friendships is great and the reward of connection gives the pulse of meaning and the heartbeat of joy within our being.

Photo taken in Red River, New Mexico.

When we can look at both ourselves and our friendships with the mantra in Roger’s poem, it seems that our love can become a little stronger:   

A Note TO Ourselves: “You are distinctive and unique and precious.” 

                 AND 

a Note WITH Others: “You are distinctive and unique and precious”, 

then, we are most likely to have created a soil that is rich for growth, rooted in connection as we seek the beauty within ourselves and within others.  

The questions to ponder in our friendships, “What is my Note To Myself?”  and “What is my Note With Others”?  

This month as we focus on Friendship, I will share images of people connecting with one another.  We need one another. We are better together.

I look forward to this journey about friendship with you. You are invited to follow me on Facebook and/or Instagram for daily posts of inspiration and encouragement about friendship. If you are not on social media, you can download the free PDF below or check it out daily on my website

Cultivating and Choosing Calm

Calm

by Roger C. Jones

Calm is…

The sun rising over the Eastern horizon

The sun falling when the day is done

A leisurely walk at the park, beach or your choice

Wholesome words said in a tempered voice

Calm is…

Snow blanketing the forest pines

Flames ascending from the campfire

A resting heart from deep breathing

A quiet mind at ease from guided thinking

Calm is…

Soft piano music

Birds soaring overhead

Phones at rest

Harsh words left unsaid

Calm is…

Destroyed by anger or

frustration or both

Restored by goodwill,

smiles and hope

Calm is…

Elusive yet

within

reach

Calm is…

Our soul’s

balm

The winter holiday season may be the last thing that comes to mind in thinking about calm. But the fact is, we have a choice in whether or not we get swept away by what our culture and advertising tell us our holidays “should” be: the endless to-do lists…the perfect holiday dinner…the perfect party...the perfect gifts…the perfect decorations. And let’s not forget the self-condemnation that occurs when something doesn’t turn out “perfectly,” or we simply can’t get through the list of things to do, buy, cook, create, plan, host, and attend. 

“Are you joking?” you may be thinking. “Calm this time of year just isn’t possible!”

It is—if we choose to try a different path.

This year, I am choosing to lean into my values, and welcome what wants to twinkle and shine more brightly this holiday season. For me, this is the practice of Cultivating and Choosing Calm.

Brené Brown defines calm as creating perspective and mindfulness while managing emotional reactivity. In The Gifts of Imperfection, she writes, “When I think about calm people, I think about people who can bring perspective to complicated situations and feel their feelings without reacting to heightened emotions like fear and anger.”

If there were ever a complicated situation, it’s the holidays! Despite being a cherished time of joy and love, the holiday season brings its own special set of heightened expectations, increased activity, and large gatherings of people, in all their individual complexities. So I hope you will join me in celebrating the holidays together in a new way – by focusing on the love and togetherness and with an intention to try the practice of Cultivating and Choosing Calm. Can we take time to pause in the midst of the busyness, and give ourselves the gift of a calming breath? Can we say no to some of the holiday rush, and practice a moment of opening our hearts instead? Can we take the time to prioritize the things that are truly important, and let the not-so-important fall away?

The same goes for those unrealistic expectations so many of us have regarding the holidays. Unrealistic expectations are so often the thief of our joy. How can we really look deeply at our expectations and determine what might be unrealistic for us this year? What is it we might want to let go of? What is it we really want to give ourselves to?

Adjusting your expectations applies to the practice of Cultivating and Choosing Calm, too! It’s a challenge to find moments of calm anytime in our fast-paced lives, but especially during the holidays. If you forget to look for moments to cultivate calm in the midst of the busyness, don’t get discouraged. Just bring yourself back to the present moment, and in whatever space you have available, reorient yourself toward peace and calm. Challenging, isn’t it? May I offer an invitation to you?

What if we give ourselves permission to have an imperfectly beautiful holiday?  Where could the beauty come in as we look with a bit of a wider lens this year?

A benefit of practicing calm is the compassion that flows from a heart rich with an inner peace. We have often heard, “Peace be with you.” I cherish the verse in Psalm 122:8 that says, “Peace be within you.” What an incredible image – peace within us. When we begin to practice the cultivation of calm, we begin to find that even in the midst of extreme busyness, there is a small, peaceful oasis deep within us. 

To aid you in your practice, I will be sharing daily images and quotes of holiday beauty. I love Richard Rohr’s description of practicing awareness: “Here is an invitation: I encourage you to take some time today to focus on one single object. Focus on it not so much with your mind, but with your senses. See it for what it is—its texture, its shape, its giftedness, its gratuity, its color, its reflection of light, it’s isness.”  

Use the image that I share (or an image of your choice) as a focal point – even for just a few minutes – as we practice calm. As much as you’re able, approach this exercise with no judgment and no expectations, and instead, with the attitude of a curious, kindly observer. What might the image stir within you? What do you notice about your breath as you pause? What happens as you linger with the image? Is there anything you need to let go of? If the image inspires you to kneel in prayer, what is touched within you? 

“Calm is…our soul’s balm.” – Roger Jones

Stop Breathe Believe — All That Matters Is How We Love

How do we love? When do we feel love? How do we desire to love more deeply? When we say love, what do we even mean? How do we touch another’s heart in a way that matters? How do we want to be loved? How could we love?

How do we navigate love? I love the artistic vision Meg Hulse (mpulsestudio.com) captures in the L O V E compass painting above. Isn’t that beautiful, how she challenges us to visually break love down into smaller pieces? Just as in hiking and metaphorically, for life, each step is valuable. Each small step in the intended direction makes a difference, even when we love imperfectly. I know I so yearn for deep connection with others but at times find myself trying to configure protection for my heart instead. Oh, yes, the magnificent risk of it all.

When it comes to love, we might immediately think of an intimate love relationship. I am thinking more of a broader definition of love. Brené Brown describes love like this: “We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection. Love is not something we give or get, it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves. Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal and the withholding of affection damages the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed, and rare.”

Let’s consider the beauty and significance of our hands as an instrument of cultivating and extending love. If we could pause for a moment and look at our hands…really look at our hands…what do we see?

What do we observe as we gaze at the top of our hands - the color, the beauty, our judgments towards our hands (too big, too little, too freckled, too this, too that); maybe a scar or callous representing an experience; how we may have adorned them – painted nails, rings, tattoos. And then, gently turning them over, observing the palms of our hands – the lines, the uniqueness of our fingerprints, the amazing abilities our hands possess. And for those of us who may not have two hands, from an accident or from birth – the pain of feeling vulnerable in adapting and accepting the loss may surface once again.

How do our hands represent the maps of how we have navigated life? Can you see in your hands the history of your life? The heritage of your mother’s hands, your father’s?

How do our hands represent the compass by which we continue to navigate life on a daily basis? Can you reflect on the ways that your hands love and care for both yourself and for others every day?

What tender touch can we offer another today? Could we tenderly serve coffee to someone we love? Open the door – both literally and figuratively - for another with warmth and welcome? Clasp our hands in prayer – what a radiant gesture of love – on behalf of another?

Let’s not forget ourselves. How can we soothe a hurt within ourselves, a heartache, a hunger, by meeting it with loving touch? Can we take a moment to place a hand gently to the skin near our hearts? Clasp our hands in prayer on behalf of ourselves?

“Love is a Verb” is written on a chalkboard that has hung in our house for over twenty years. I don’t want to forget that, the active tense of love. The moment-to-moment power of reaching out to another, the meaningful support of a wiped tear, a story shared, a time set aside to listen. A time to listen carefully, not with the idea of what will I say next – but to listen for the heart, for the opening, for the movement of growth amidst the grit. May each of our homes, our apartments, our cubicles, our cars, our spaces be overflowing with intentional love.

We are in a challenging time now as we navigate uncertainty and growing edges in our culture, in our cities, in our smaller communities, in our hearts. How do we navigate love, even when the work is difficult? How do we use our hands to love in a way that matters? What are the little things, the daily touchpoints, that we can offer one another?

Roger’s poetic heart continues to encourage me in how to love and care for others. His poem below was actually the inspiration for this month’s writing. Enjoy.

All That Matters

by Roger Jones

Some things that matter -

Setback, off-track, battered heart falls apart,
Hurt done, death stuns, mean sun, dry run
Skies of gray, bills to pay, world changing, conflict raging
Burn out, blowout, emotions raw, last straw.

But wait, could it be
that–

All that matters is how we love*

So, might we try–

Giving gifts, outlook shifts, listen close, caring most
Not to judge, nor begrudge, hold out grace, give some space,
Empathy driven, wrong forgiven, time spent, goodwill meant
Being there, offer prayer, keep in touch, love so much.

*from a song by Beth Nielsen Chapman

This month, as we focus on All That Matters Is How We Love, I will be sharing images of hands – loving hands, time-worn hands, little hands, hands that work hard, hands that are tender and precious, hands demonstrating love. Along with the images of hands, I will be sharing various perspectives on love. May we be inspired and encouraged to love deeply and to reach out and touch another in a caring and meaningful way.

You may follow me on Instagram or Facebook for daily posts or you may download the PDF here or at www.diannemorrisjones.com for the images and daily reflections.

Life is Fragile - Handle with Care: Mindful Living in October

Life is like that, isn’t it…fragile? Sometimes we are surprised by the delicate nature of our hearts, and maybe never more so than when grief enters our lives. Our hearts are precious. Our life is precious. Even our hurt and grief are precious—AND hard.

Our hearts are also strong. If we love deeply, we will grieve deeply. Glennon Doyle Melton shares that “Grief is the souvenir of love.” I recall as a little girl in Ruidoso, NM peeking into a barrel of polished rocks at the souvenir shop. As I ran my little hands through the rocks, I remember having the hardest time choosing which rock was “the one” to take home as a souvenir. Unlike the small stone I eventually chose to remember a happy vacation, grief does NOT feel like a fun souvenir –but rather a painful yet priceless and rich remembrance of a deep love, a cherished friend, a location, or an experience that is no longer with us. If we love deeply, we will grieve deeply.

C.S. Lewis has said, “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” How does grief feel for you right now? Grief’s forms are as various as those rocks in the souvenir shop.

Do you feel sad that you don’t feel comfortable having a conversation with someone you love due to the political climate? Feel that.

Do you feel confused about what is next for you? Feel that.

Do you feel overwhelmed every time you turn on the news by those who are hurting from fires, floods and hurricanes? Feel that.

Does your work environment, especially of late, generate anxiousness within you? Feel that.

Is your elderly parent experiencing diminishment? Feel that.

Are you struggling with conversations/being around others? Feel that.

Are you concerned about sending your child to school? Feel that.

Are you having trouble sleeping? Feel that.

What other losses are you feeling right now? Feel that.

What have you grieved in the past that still visits you occasionally? Feel that.

Dr. Brené Brown has such a gifted ability to take very difficult topics like shame, vulnerability and courage and put words to them that we can all understand. She identifies three elements of grief: Loss, Feeling Lost and Longing. Looking through the lens of those categories has helped me tremendously when I have been walking through times of grief. It is so helpful to recognize and name the various facets of grief, to break it down into pieces that we can name, understand, then feel and work through.

In recent days I have talked with so many who are walking through various types of grief: someone experiencing grief through the loss of a beloved pet; a parent who is feeling lost from an adult child who is choosing not to communicate; a widow who lost her spouse of 39 years; an active outdoorsman’s loss of mobility due to a surgery; a couple’s fractured relationship due to bottled up anger for multiple years; infidelity; death of a parent; traumatic accidental death of a co-worker; a precious child’s surgery; loneliness; heartbreak from an ended relationship; inability to get pregnant; continual and unrelenting financial struggle; political and cultural heartache; a diagnosis of cancer.

The list is unending, and there is no doubt that whatever grief we might be experiencing, our pain seems more complicated and confusing with all that is going on in our world right now. Maybe we haven’t been able to gather together to grieve and remember as we would have without Covid, for example. Our unexpressed grief can take an emotional and spiritual toll on us all.

Even if we have been able to share our grief of loss of life through a funeral or Celebration of Life service, our culture allows such a short time for mourning. When we were in Nepal, our guide’s Mother passed away. In the midst of deep sadness, we saw a glimpse of beauty in the Hindu practice of dedicating time to grieve. Our guide explained that according to his faith tradition, mourners wear white and do not return to work for 10-30 days so they can be dedicated to mourning and remembering their loved one. He would not be available for most of our planned time together in Nepal, but he had arranged for others who would support us.

Little did I know that I would be facing the death of my Dad the week after we got home. I tried to learn from our guide and incorporate his practice of allowing myself time to grieve. As we were entering the initial shutdown phase of the pandemic, I realized I had plenty of time to grieve. But could I allow myself to feel the grief? In addition, it felt so complicated to mourn the loss of my Dad along with all the grief that was going on in our world. Writing down my experiences of heartbreak and grief was so helpful in giving words to and understanding my grief. I journaled, took walks in nature honoring Dad, and spent time “being with” the hurt of a loss felt deeply. Grief was an invitation to connect to my heart, breathe deeply, and pay deep attention to how things were unfolding in front of me.

We know that grief is a part of life, and that it will visit us from time to time. We also recognize that the way we experience and express our grief is personal and unique. We all grieve differently, and will need various types of support and encouragement along the way.

The question I would invite all of us to ponder is, “Can we be present with our grief?” How might we choose to be present with our grief? Why would we want to be intentionally present with our grief? It may not be easy, but when we are intentional about naming and experiencing our feelings of sorrow and loss, we are able to identify various aspects of the landscape within our heart that need tender care. This practice is a kind of exquisite risk and vulnerability – a kind of exquisite love.

I love this Swedish proverb, "Shared joy is a double joy. Shared sorrow is half a sorrow." I find such healing when I bow in prayer and share my heart or when I can be open and vulnerable and share my hurt with others. What a privilege to accompany another in the grief journey. What an honor to have someone walk with us through the difficult times…to help us hold on when we are feeling scared and devastated and overwhelmed in our loss. Accompaniment is a wonderful gift when our hearts are hurting, and we have someone to bear witness as we navigate the pain within.

May our hearts bend towards hope and may we scavenge our worlds for joy as we tenderly and carefully tend to our precious hearts. Life is Fragile - Handle with Care.

Roger, my husband, has written an incredibly touching and heartfelt poem. May you find wisdom in his beautiful words.

Bye Dad,
Bye Mom
by Roger Jones

My brother calls and says,
“You should probably
catch the next flight back.”
My dad’s ever declining health
is fading. He’s losing his will to live.
Doctors try to sustain him.
As a last pleasure,
he requests a Coke and they advise him
to refrain, fearing adverse consequences.
He responds, verbatim,
“I’m already dead.”
He’s then transferred to hospice,
for an undetermined
stay, maybe months.
We’re settling in there and my brother
remarks something softly,
and I ask him to repeat. Tears emerging, he says,
“We’re losing him.”
Dad’s breaths are shallow and fading
I speak in his ear and say to the prospect of him leaving,
“Go to God, Dad.”
Within minutes, he’s left.
Feeling the crush of grief, I sob and sob.
My sister, brother, and I hug and tell each other
how much we love him, Mom, and each other.
A few days later, at the funeral home,
Dad lies awaiting his final destination.
His body cold and stiff and modeled.
I look to him, reflect, and offer,
“Bye, Dad.”

A few years later, my brother calls and says,
“You should probably
catch the next flight back.”
My mom has experienced a massive stroke–
and it doesn’t look good.
It wasn’t good.
The doctor says she has no brain activity and
that it’s “the most impressive stroke
I’ve seen” (Yes, those very words).
My siblings and our spouses confer
and conclude Mom wouldn’t want this.
Grief returns and swells within me,
painful and unrelenting.
The doctor ceases Mom’s ventilator and her
heart continues to beat an astounding 20 minutes.
I say to myself,
“She is a strong woman.”
I say to her,
“Bye, Mom.”

Several years have passed.
In the backyard, I now reflect on
my departed parents.
In a moment of fantasy,
I imagine them walking in
to visit us and my Dad voices,
“Hey, Rog!”
And I feel the pit of grief in
my gut and the press of it in my heart.
This mythical moment
and the attendant grief pass.
I grab a ball and pitch it in the yard,
our faithful lab lopes to capture it,
and proudly returns, dropping it
at my feet and looking up to me.
We retreat to the house
through the back door,
and carry on.

Throughout the month of October, I will share reflections relating to the many facets of grief and images of rivers with you on Facebook and Instagram. Nature is such a healing sanctuary for our hurting hearts and is richly portrayed in the beauty of water and rivers. May you find inspiration in the daily reflections. May we take time to ponder what is hurting within our hearts.

If you are not on social media, you can download a PDF with the images and thoughts about grief below.

How do you Picture Play? - Mindful Living in September

Play is fun. Play is hard. Play is easy. Play is complicated. Play is natural. Play can be taught. Play is vulnerable. Play is what we do. Play is rare. Play is essential. What is play to you?

Play is a topic that many adults have difficulty relating to. Our modern-day, fast- paced culture is so focused on productivity, pace and “purpose” that we forget how to play, or don’t know how to. Susie, my therapy client who is an accomplished engineer, vulnerably asked, “Dianne, can you please teach me to play? I truly have no idea what that might look like.” Susie is not alone.

Dr. Stuart Brown and Christopher Vaughn, the authors of Play: How It Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagination, and Invigorates the Soul, explain that play facilitates brain development, helps us foster empathy, helps us navigate complex social groups, and is at the core of creativity and innovation. According to the authors, “The opposite of play is not work – the opposite of play is depression.” If you are interested in learning more, check out Dr. Brown’s TED talk on play.

What is play? Brown and Vaughn say the concept defies easy definition, in part because we each have such different ideas about what we consider enjoyable. But what is clear is that we seem to be hardwired with a need for play, which extends throughout our lifetimes. Play is evidenced from a tiny infant first cooing and responding to the facial responses of Mom or Dad, to an aged adult with dementia or Alzheimer’s disease choosing to sing nursery rhymes and tenderly care for dolls. Play is for all ages.

What does play look like for you, at this stage of your life? If you’re not sure, allow yourself the chance to dream about it: What would you do sheerly for joy, with no other purpose than to have fun? Or think of how play has evolved through your lifespan: What is your earliest memory of play? Do you have any pics that show you playing as a little girl or little boy? What type of play did you enjoy as a child?

One of my favorite books as a young child was Come Play with Me. The book features various playful images of dogs and cats. Much of the research around play has been from studying animal play – it is truly fascinating. On a daily basis, Sterling, our silver lab, invites us to play. She loves playing with the grandkids, a kind back rub, a toss of the ball, or a jump in the pool.

The concept of play might seem simple, but the practice of play seems more complicated as we find ways to integrate play into our full and busy lives. There are so many facets of play, especially amidst the seriousness and complexities of life. Dr. Brené Brown, the author of The Gifts of Imperfection, states that in pursuing a life of wholehearted living, we must let go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth, and cultivate play and rest.

So again, what could play look like for you? Do you have any play mentors – those you can learn from in how they play? How can you go about incorporating play into your life? What feels scary or vulnerable about play to you?

We are made to find joy and creative growth through play. Let’s all discover what play might look like so we can invite joy and play into our lives as a way of being brave and courageous in the process of wholehearted living.

One way to understand play is to see it in action. Throughout the month on Facebook and Instagram, I will share images with you - tap dancing with a grandchild, fly fishing in a cool mountain stream, polishing the car of our dreams, playing in the sand on a beach, trimming a flower in the garden, painting, creating a delicious meal with friends, birdwatching, playing the guitar, hiking a trail or reading a book. If you are not on social media, you can download a PDF with the images and thoughts about play or check it out on my website, www.diannemjones.com.

Ways to Play

Music evokes the emotions
Our bodies respond
In dance
Children climb
Heights
In swaying swings
Surfers paddle and paddle
To catch that perfect
Curling wave
A white and a black man
Face off
At chess in the park
Teenagers jump
From lofty cliffs
Into a placid lake
City and small town
Boys and girls
Jump, flip and slide
On their decorated skateboards
During your sports season
Millions cheer their teams
Half will win, Half look forward to
Next weekend
Strumming my Martin guitar
A song emerges
From my heart
A hike in the green piney woods
Refreshes and enlivens
As a spiritual awakening

Play is in our essence
May we find our ways
To play above
The complicated fray
And live the fullest
Every day.

By Roger Jones.

A Window into the Woods - Mindful Living in August

“When you go out into the woods, and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it.
You appreciate the tree.

The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying ‘You are too this, or I’m too this.’ That judgment mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.”

- Ram Dass, author, psychologist

What is our window into the world? What is our window into the woods? As we pause to contemplate the quote above, let’s consider how is it that we can be so critical towards those around us. How, instead, could we expand our perspective? How can we look at others in compassion and love?

What are some judgments that we might have made today? Are some of those judgments out of our own mobius strip of insecurities, doubts, jealousies, or lack of understanding? Do you find some of these circling both in and out of your world – what comes from the inside and also what seems to show up on the outside as projections, reactions, frustrations? I love the image of the mobius strip as I practice authenticity, the idea of being the same on the inside and the outside. Authenticity is an intentional practice…a daily practice.

How can we appreciate others and invite others to appreciate us? We encounter differences every day – differences in race, politics, gender, faith and more. Even differences in how we manage our day – have you ever been judged for being an early riser or a late sleeper? Have you ever been judged for being too sensitive or not sensitive enough? How can we connect across these differences, especially at a time of such deep social polarization?

“Every viewpoint is a view from a point,” writes Richard Rohr, “and we need to critique our own perspective if we are able to see and follow the truth.” As I wrote in my book, Stop Breathe Believe, “It’s only when we gain some self-awareness that we’re able to critique our own dearly held viewpoint, and only when we can move toward understanding another’s perspective that we can gain the empathy that allows a deeper understanding of each other’s experiences and emotions. Part of empathy is perspective-taking, being able to see and understand what someone else is thinking.”

When we look into another’s eyes, can we see the face of God? Can we appreciate the differences, the uniqueness, the beauty in all of us?

I want to be a bridge-builder among differences. We have to listen closely to others, much the same way we want others to listen to our hearts, our ideas, our perspective.

Photo taken in Costa Rica by Dianne Morris Jones

Have we thought of where these judgments came from? Can we trace the roots of some of our deeply held or even freshly budding judgments? What roots are grounded in love? What pruning might need to occur in our hearts?

As we stretch and bend in resilience amidst so many forces in our culture, we can think of how a tree has the ability to move and adjust. As we look at our roots, how can we water and support the beauty of wisdom as we learn to love deeper and wider? How can we pay more careful attention to our thoughts, our judgments, our schemas, and our previous learnings as we attempt to lean in to loving others in a more gentle, caring and empathic way?

Photo taken in Glacier National Park, Montana by Dianne Morris Jones

At times in therapy, I will ask the client to draw a simple tree with branches and roots. It is sometimes helpful to label the roots and the branches in relation to a particular struggle to open up understanding from a new and fresh perspective. At times we can become so ingrained in our thought patterns that it’s difficult to shift to a more expansive understanding. Often through the process of drawing the roots and the branches, which calls on us to reach into our heart and get out of our head, there can be a deepening…an ability to embrace the “why” of our struggle and begin to work with our deeper understanding in a compassionate way, towards ourselves and others.

For me, the ability to sit under a tree, marvel at the strength of a tree, or go on a walk through nature is a reflective, quieting, stilling and strengthening practice. May we find some ways to be in nature this month – to notice trees, to think about our roots of judgment, and to look into sustainability for our environment: our physical environment, our emotional environment and our spiritual environment. Could it be that a “climate crisis” can be found in realms in addition to the environmental?

Could today be the day we begin to look for something beautiful that we have never noticed before? Could today be the day we begin to look at others in a more compassionate way? Could today be the day we begin to look at ourselves in a kinder way?

You are invited to join me in a focus on trees and roots this month as we focus on a “Window into the Woods” by appreciating nature AND by asking ourselves the questions—sometimes hard questions—in regards to our judgments, perspectives and appreciation of others. You can join me through daily posts on Instagram and/or Facebook, or a downloadable PDF is available here and on my website, www.diannemorrisjones.com.

Roger has written a poem to accompany us on this month-long journey.

A Tree Poem

A tree
holds much beauty and mystique. My
favorite tree: a massive pecan tree in our backyard.
A trunk, more than six feet around, reveals two discrete,
pancake-sized pruning scars, as if to say: Life deals us
wounds–we recover–blemished–we remain susceptible.
Her bark is sandpaper rough, but underneath, she’s tender, like
a hard-shelled relative that’s a softy underneath the veneer. Her
branches, dense with green leaves, tower like a billowing
thunderhead cloud. Yes, once in a while, I talk to her. I put a
hand on her rutty grey-shaded trunk. She stands and listens
like an empathetic friend–attentive and silent.
I have not named
her. No rush. Her
roots are
strong
and
deep.

- Roger Jones

Exploring the Awe of Color and Vitality - Mindful Living in July

What is it that draws us to color? What emotion is stirred by a particular color? What thought first comes to mind when you see a particular color? How many colors of green are there in a forest? How do we view an artist’s palette? Where is the artist in you? How can we be free to create? What is a color you think of from childhood? What is a color you saw yesterday? What is a color you could celebrate today? What color calms you? What color triggers you? Do you have a favorite? What color is grief to you? Do you have a particular story for a particular color? What color is beauty? Why is the sky blue? What color schemes do you prefer in decorating your living space? How does color connect you with others? So many questions we can ask about color. So many thoughts and realms and ways of looking at color.

My heart’s intention in writing about color is to challenge us to expand our thinking—to enrich our awareness, to heighten our attention, to slow down and pay attention to the color (or lack of color) in our lives. How can we absorb and cherish the beauty and richness of color of an ordinary day? How can being mindful of color transfer ordinary into extraordinary? How does color factor into the vitality of your life?

How do our feelings and color integrate with one another? An exploratory practice to try with color and your feelings is to begin to notate how you are feeling “in color.” As you journal or reflect, think about what color might help you describe what you’re feeling. Maybe open a new crayon box and pick the color that matches your feeling. Try scribbling the feeling with that color. Then, maybe try changing colors, or draw more. Maybe take a picture of that color. Maybe purchase or pick a flower in the color you are connecting with. There is no perfect way to explore color and feelings. As we are discovering and exploring, it is a wonderful place to open our hearts and minds and play.

Playing with color is beautiful. From artists’ colors in Nepal…

To the memory of my Dad, who had Parkinson’s, painting at the Assisted Living art class…

To my coloring a feelings/color wheel of what was happening in my heart for the day at a Gifts of Imperfection workshop…

To our granddaughter’s coloring a love letter to Rogey…

When Roger was really struggling with the side effects of chemo/radiation, I would get up each morning and go sit outside for my routine time of meditation and prayer. However, during this time of grief, fear, and anxiety that I was struggling with, I found myself being drawn to take pictures of beautiful colors…the greens in the trees, the whites, creams, pinks in a magnolia, the variations in our silver lab’s beautiful coat (Sterling joins me in this time of refreshment each morning). Was that a coping mechanism of dealing with the pain? I just know that as I look back on the images that I photographed during that time, it is FULL of color. I like to think of it as a healing process. A balm of peace and beauty amidst the unknown, the mystery, the grief, the vulnerability of disease and pain.

Often in counseling, a client will struggle with describing how he/she is feeling. One resource that has been helpful for my clients and for me is a Feelings Wheel. You can Google “Feelings Wheel” to find various versions. The image captures the blending nature of emotions, in various shades of corresponding feelings. So, for instance I might say that I am angry, in the center circle…but really, maybe I am humiliated or frustrated, in the outer circles. Or, if a client reports they are sad on many occasions, we might look at the Feelings Wheel to explore the feeling in greater detail. Is it sadness they’re feeling? Is it loneliness? Is it inferiority? The Feelings Wheel is a wonderful tool to develop our feeling vocabulary. The journal that I wrote I'm Fine, a Real Feelings Journal, is also a wonderful place to write and draw and color and explore how you are feeling.

Feelings Wheel created by Robert Plutchik and adapted by Gloria Willcox.

In Dr. Brené Brown’s curriculum, The Daring Way,™ we discuss the color of shame in the workshops I facilitate as a way to understand the depth, meaning and impact of shame for each of us. Of course, the responses vary, but often we hear about puke green, sulfur grey, and poop brown. Isn’t it fascinating how the smell accompanies the color in participants’ responses? Black, grey, brown, and red are colors also often used to describe shame. Of course, there is no right or wrong in describing the color of an emotion for yourself. It is an intriguing process to look at the correlation of feelings and color.

What colors and feelings come to mind as you listen to a song? Does an
experience emerge from your past? A longing you are hoping for?

What songs come to mind when thinking of color? “Yellow Submarine,” “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” “Starry, Starry Night,” “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Deep Blue Something, “Green-Eyed Lady,” “Brown-Eyed Girl”…

For today, cue the classic oldie, “Colour My World,” by the band Chicago. If you are unfamiliar with the song, you might choose to YouTube it to listen and enjoy. Maybe you recall it as a popular "slow dance" song at high school proms, dances and weddings. The song is notable as having only one verse and a beautiful flute solo.

Colour My World

“As time goes on
I realize
Just what you mean
To me
And now
Now that you're near
Promise your love
That I've waited to share
And dreams
Of our moments together
Color my world with hope of loving you”

What does it look like if we color our world with the hope of loving others deeply? Just this morning as I was playing this song in preparing to write this piece, Roger was sitting at the kitchen bar and looked up at me and smiled. I asked him if he wanted to dance and extended my arms. So, in our kitchen—me, barefoot and in my pajamas, Roger in his flip-flops, shorts and t-shirt—we danced to “Colour My World.” The feelings that swept over me were nothing like the times in the late 70’s when the song was popular of awkwardness and nervousness and anticipation of standing at a junior high Belles and Beaux or Stardusters dance and wondering if I would get asked to dance, or better yet if I would dance right or look right or be right. No, the feelings were of gratitude for the beauty of the song, for this moment, for this man. What a contrast between those days of discovering who we are…and the changes of this time! And yet, we are all still in days of discovery. How can we slow down and dance? How can we love one another fully? How can we Colour Our World with hope of loving others in an authentic way?

Recently at our lake cabin, our 3-year-old granddaughter and I were lying on the top bunk bed playing “The Favorite Game.” It was her invitation and idea to play so I was all in! We were asking each other the questions “What is your favorite toy, zoo animal, etc.…and in this moment, favorite color?” Her response: “purple.” My response: “turquoise.” “Yes, Lovey,” she said, “I think turquoise is beautiful.” A precious moment with an adorable little girl…taking a moment to talk about extraordinarily exquisite and important things, like our favorite colors.

Growing up with two sisters was always so much fun – what a gift to have built-in friends as sisters! We are so much alike and yet we are each so unique. As a “scientific” research project, I called my sisters recently to ask them their favorite color. I thought I knew but wanted to check my accuracy. Melinda’s response was as I had guessed: “I really don’t have a favorite, but I guess red because of all things Texas Tech.” I was on target with the first step of the research. Annette’s response was, “Why are you asking, I mean, don’t you know?” I told her I was just checking my accuracy. “Well, of course, my favorite color is and always has been purple,” she replied. Yes, I was definitely correct on that one! She had a purple bedspread, a purple bicycle, a purple parakeet, a purple birthday cake, and a purple bikini. “As a matter of fact,” Annette continued, “I’m writing with a purple pen as we speak.” I smiled. For me, turquoise is the color of choice. You might note that preference as you enter our home, you’ll see a deep turquoise velvet sofa and turquoise art by Sarah Luna. As unique individuals in a complex world, we each have our own different preferences and styles. What is your favorite color?

How do we notice and appreciate the color in our life? From recalling times in the past – maybe the smell of a brand-new crayon box for elementary school or opening our eyes in a new way today…. What could it look like to have a vivid view and deep appreciation of color?

Nature is an incredible place to start. The grey of a rainy day, the yellow of a sunrise or sunset, the blue of the sky with white puffy clouds, the verdant scene in the woods, the various and changing colors throughout the seasons are all moments to be in awe.

What if we lit a campfire? How many colors would we see in the flames dancing before us…purple, orange, yellow, blue, red, black?

The colors in fruits and vegetables are bountiful. Whether in a garden, local farmers’ market or our favorite grocery – what colors might we see? Maybe we could add “look at colors in produce aisle” to our next grocery shopping list.

The word vitality is relevant here. The definition of vitality is the capacity to live, grow or develop. As we open our arms to the dance of life, the appreciation of color is a refreshing, deepening and meaningful way to invite a healthy and holistic outlook to life. May we embrace the power and beauty of color with awe as we live, grow and develop today, in this very moment. May we go outside and soak in the warm, yellow sunshine (sparkle sunglasses optional)….

Or tune in to “Starry, Starry Night” by Don McLean as you lean into the beauty of color within you.

Once again, Roger’s poetic talent enriches our lives through his heart…

Beautiful Colors

If you imagine

the world without color–

it helps you treasure the

world of color.

If you pine for

more rainbows–

you and I have the same

longing.

If you marvel at

the shades of

green in a

mountain forest–

you’ll come to know that

green is an

unending spectrum.

If you have

a favorite color–

bask in it;

indulge your retinas in

a visual fiesta.

So stop

to observe,

to feel,

to experience

the vast colors–

and splash your

life with

beautiful colors.

By Roger Jones

For the month of July, we will be looking at 31 various colors. It will be intriguing to see what we learn about each color, what we remember, how we feel, what stirs within us, what challenges us…. You are invited to check out the daily Instagram and/or Facebook posts for an image and reflections or you may download this PDF as another way to follow along.

Enjoy! Thank you for joining me in this journey of life – I am so grateful that you take time to read, and I LOVE to hear your thoughts and reflections as well!

Stop Breathe Believe - The Time is NOW for Loving Soul Care

We all long to live wholeheartedly – with authenticity and joy, in a way that honors our true selves and brings our gifts into being. But often our unhealthy thinking gets in the way. Stop Breathe Believe™ (SBB) is a simple yet powerful process that can help us pause/stop the stream of thoughts flowing through our minds and become aware/mindful of the one thought that we might want to replace. After this mindful moment of discernment, we gently shift into a state of calm openness and focus on our breath – allowing a few breaths to come in…a few breaths to go out. We pay attention to the strength of our breath, the pace of our breath, the rhythm of our breath. We then choose a belief statement that would be healthy for our minds, our hearts, our souls, our relationships, our thriving self.

It seems so simple, these three easy steps: stop, breathe, believe. But while the concept IS manageable, and consists of three simple steps, the process is challenging. Why? Because we are working with a lifetime of thoughts and patterns of thinking that we have adapted through the years. For whatever reason we have done so, these patterns of thinking may not be serving us well now.

One thought at a time, however, we may now choose to be more intentional in our thinking. We may now choose to be more responsive instead of reactive. We may now choose to be more compassionate to others. We may now choose to be more open in how we relate to others who are different than we are – because we are different, too. We may now choose to be kinder and more compassionate to ourselves. We may now desire to practice self-care. We may now choose to become more consistent in our exercising. We may now choose to exercise for health. We may now choose to eat healthier. All of these things could be integrated with the Stop, Breathe, Believe practice.

Even the last few weeks when we were hiking in the Tetons and Yellowstone, I was relying on SBB to calm my anxiety. I am very afraid of bears. A respectful fear of bears is wise, but I am crazy fearful of bears! One day we are hiking down from Hidden Falls in the Tetons and a lady shows us a pic of a grizzly “just up the way, on the trail.” JUST UP THE WAY??? ON THE TRAIL??? My heart was racing, and I could not fathom how all of these people were just hiking along. We were as prepared as we could be, with a bear bell so as not to startle them as we turned a bend, and plenty of bear spray, but I was anxious.

And now we had no choice but to come down the trail where a bear had been spotted. The signs say to be “bear aware,” meaning to watch your surroundings, but I needed no encouragement to do so. I fearfully, vigilantly, frantically searched for the bear as we continued hiking. In the end, we got to the end of the trail and we did NOT encounter the bear. But I had spent the rest of the hike worrying that we would.

I am a huge fan of contemplative hiking – paying deep attention to what is in front of me, soaking it in, praying and meditating along the way. But when there is the possibility of encountering bears, my normal contemplative practice could be easily replaced by fear and anxiety, as it had been that day.

The next day we were scheduled to go to Yellowstone, a place known for its grizzly population. I could have chosen to skip the hike, but I was NOT going to miss that. Not an option for this adventurous soul! However, I also wanted to choose not to miss the contemplative piece of hiking – one of the reasons we love hiking so much. Absorbing the beauty, taking it all in, paying attention to the flowers, the bark on the trees, the colors, the waterfall, the sounds of the birds, the deer ahead of us on the trail…these experiences are precious.

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

So, the next day I wore my red, yellow and green Stop Breathe Believe socks as a reminder to focus on my thoughts, to care for my heart, to be wise about the bears, AND to choose believable green statements that kept my thoughts from going awry.

I was so grateful to have brought these socks as a reminder for me to focus on my thoughts. The power of our thoughts is amazing. Some of my green thoughts (or what one seven-year-old practitioner of SBB calls “believements”) for the day were: You are brave. Your worrying about a bear around every rock is not going to create a bear or make a bear go away – it is ok to relax and enjoy. Be bear aware – ring that bell for your safety. Being adventurous is adrenaline-producing…pay attention to that in your body. Stop and see the beauty; Breathe in the aroma of the pines; Believe that you are being wise and are prepared in what to do if you meet a bear.

The day was beautiful and I was able to stay focused most of the time. Again, we met another hiker who told us of a bear up ahead. Again, we had a choice to not go further. We did not turn around. We continued to see the most beautiful scenery, experience the forest, relax and enjoy the hike. Roger later commented, “I was surprised you didn’t want to turn around after hearing about the bear on the trail.” I held up my hiking boots and showed him my socks. “Oh, I get it,” he said.

Photo Credit: Roger Jones

Whether it’s everyday thoughts or thoughts about bears, SBB is a way to help us be more responsive and less reactive in life. Then, we can pay attention to the life-giving parts of our hearts and be resilient in our choices.

What is your bear? What causes you anxiety? Is it the hard conversation with a loved one? The troubling situation at work? The uncertain diagnosis? The “Am I enough?” thoughts? The “I am too much?” thoughts?

Although I wrote Stop Breathe Believe: Mindful Living One Thought at a Time eight years ago, readers and clients have been sending me emails and sharing stories of how it has been helpful throughout the pandemic, and all of the other trauma going on in our world. I’ve been amazed and inspired by how people are relying on SBB as a resource of resilience in walking into our new way of being. So, this month, I want to share with you some ideas and nuggets from the book on how you might choose to refresh or enhance the practice for yourself.

First and foremost, I will encourage you to start small and focus on one specific area you are struggling with or working through. As you are able to practice SBB in this area, you will become more mindful with your thoughts, your feelings, and your behaviors, and then be able to interpolate the practice into other areas of your life.

Once you’ve identified the focus area you’d like to work on, try out this simple process:

1. Each day, recognize and write down three Stop/Red thoughts that you would like to change in the focus area.

2. Practice paying attention to your breath for three minutes each day. As three minutes is the average length of a song, you can practice breathing during one song per day.

3. Create three Green Statements/Believements around the area for growth you have chosen.

Whether as a life raft that gets you through a crisis moment, or a long-range tool that supports you in changing entire patterns of unhealthy thinking, Stop Breathe Believe can help you become healthier in your thinking, more intentional in your thoughts and behaviors, more aware of your feelings, and more mindful of the beauty of the present moment. One thought at a time, you can become the wholehearted, joyful person you are meant to be.

You may print off a downloadable PDF of some Stop Breathe Believe nuggets, or if you are on social media, I will be posting a nugget from the book each day during the month of June on Instagram and Facebook. Enjoy!

For a more in-depth discussion and explanation of the practice of Stop Breathe Believe, you may purchase the book or join a workshop. If you live in Texas or Iowa, I can walk through this process with you in virtual counseling sessions. I will be offering daily thoughts regarding the process through Instagram, Facebook and the downloadable PDF. Please email me with any questions.

Roger, my husband, is truly one of the reasons the book was written. Not only is he my best friend and biggest cheerleader, he believes in the practice of Stop Breathe Believe and fully incorporates the practice as an integral strategy of dealing with his anxiety. He has created this poem for you.

Stop Breathe Believe

Let us–

Stop when we recognize those negative thoughts emerging

Tell ourselves to pause amidst the rising tide

Own our ability to shift the trajectory of our internal dialogue

Practice, relentlessly, at catching those arising red thoughts.

Breathe in, breathe out to cleanse the palate

Repeat a time or two, maybe more

Each time, expand and collapse the lungs deeply

And attend to the refreshment received

Take this precious moment to

Head to a new direction and

Experience the relief of dismissed ruminations. Now–

Believe a truth one knows to be true

Express it firmly to ourselves and

Let that green thought flourish and thrive. We’ll–

Intend to grow the green to repel the red

Every day tend to our thoughts’ garden

Verily, be careful to nurture authenticity and

Ever strive for all of this, one thought at a time.

By Roger Jones

The Metamorphosis of Hope and Presence and Beauty

View fullsize

Watercolor Art: Dianne Morris Jones

A Blessing for Presence
May you awaken to the mystery of being here and
enter the quiet immensity of your own presence.
May you have joy and peace in the temple of your senses.
May you receive great encouragement when new frontiers beckon.
May you respond to the call of your gift and find the
courage to follow its path.

May the flame of truth free you from falsity.
May warmth of heart keep your presence aflame
and may anxiety never linger about you.
May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of soul.

May you take time to celebrate the quiet miracles
that seek no attention.
May you be consoled in the secret symmetry of your soul.
May you experience each day as a sacred gift
woven around the heart of wonder.

                                                               -John O’Donohue

As we enter the month of May, where do we find hope? How do we enter with a sense of mindfulness, of paying attention, of stepping gently, softly into a new season, a new space? How do we thoughtfully open the door of our heart to a sense of presence that is true for us? The pandemic has offered us a cocoon – a time of waiting, holding, pulling back, being alone, possibly being lonely. Often in seasons of struggle, there is a gift tucked in as well. Not necessarily a gift we would ask for or think we wanted or needed, not a gift we would put on any wish list. 

I love this quote about uninvited and undesired challenges by Dr. Dick Deming, Founder of Above and Beyond Cancer: “Cancer survivors don’t truly know if they can make it to the summit, but they do know that the journey will transform their lives – just as cancer has transformed their lives. Some challenges come to us uninvited and undesired. Other challenges come to us because we have the courage and confidence to reach above and beyond what we think we can do.” 

So, whatever the source of our challenges, there is a gift that can be opened. What is it that we might have learned – both collectively and individually? Some have learned a deeper compassion, a widening of understanding. In the pandemic there was time to develop and cherish bread making, gardening, poetry and many other practices best served with solitude and solace. David Whyte reflects on solace and hope in this way: “Solace is what we must look for when the mind cannot bear the pain, the loss or the suffering that eventually touches every life and every endeavor; when longing does not come to fruition in a form we can recognize, when people we know and love disappear, when hope must take a different form than the one we have shaped for it.”

If we were to list or journal about the cacophony of emotions we have experienced in the last year or so as we have grieved, again individually and collectively, what would that look like? Grief just for me, for my family, for our extended family, for our neighborhood, for our city, for our country, for our world. Our hearts hurt. Our culture often gives grief a few minutes, hours or maybe days…but grief isn’t like that. Grief is more like the metamorphosis process – sometimes it takes longer than others. At times grief is more complicated than other times. We are changed by our grief. 

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

A concept I learned from Dr. Brené Brown that helps me in understanding grief is the division of grief into three segments of Longing, Loss and Feeling Lost. I often ask clients working through various types of grief to make themselves a chart with these three categories at the top of the page. At times I find myself making this chart as well. The invitation is then to determine as we encounter moments, sensations, and feelings of grief to reflect on which of these three categories describes the specific aspect of grief I am experiencing. Am I longing for something? Am I feeling a loss? Am I lost? For me, it is helpful to break down grief into these segments to observe and embrace my grief more deeply. 

How has this time of being in a pandemic changed you? Maybe it hasn’t felt so much like grief for you…. Maybe for you it has been feelings of anxiety and uncertainty. How is it for you to move out of the cocoon of restrictions – those either placed on you by others and/or those you have chosen for yourself? How can we grow into a deeper, metamorphic type of being? A more reflective type of being, that allows us to pay attention to the present moment? That allows some of the busyness to
S l o w  D o w n ? 

In listening to friends and clients, some of the comments I’ve heard recently are: “I don’t know how to be with people now.” “I hope I can remember how to have a conversation.” “I don’t know how to dress – I’ve been in leggings and tennis shoes for a year.” “What will it be like to all be together as a family now?”  

What does change and growth look like for you? 

Change and growth can be painful. Change and growth can be intentional. Change and growth can be challenging. Change and growth can be fun. Change and growth can be stimulating. Change and growth can be lonely. Change and growth can be anticipatory. Change and growth can be disappointing. Change and growth can be vulnerable. Change and growth can be exquisite. Change and growth can be beautiful. 

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

What would the experience, the rootedness, the grounding of hope look like for you? Dan Allender reflects about hope, “Hope waits but does not sit. It strains with eager anticipation to see what may be coming on the horizon. Hope does not pacify; it does not make us docile and mediocre. Instead, it draws us to greater risk and perseverance.”

How can we lean into hope and beauty by being present? Present to our hearts, present with our hurts, present with others, present with our conflictual understandings, present with our faith, present with change, present with growth?

Beauty is the harvest of presence, the evanescent moment of
seeing or hearing on the outside what already lives far inside us;
the eyes, the ears or the imagination suddenly become. A bridge between the here and the there, between then and now,
between the inside and the outside; beauty is the conversation
between what we think is happening outside in the world and
what is just about to occur far inside us. 

– David Whyte

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

My prayer for you and for myself is that we can gently step into the threshold of May with a heart that is looking for beauty, looking for presence and looking for hope. May we create some time to look deeply and discover the richness and the beauty of who we are and how we can be loving and compassionate to ourselves and others. 

In closing, I am grateful to be able to share this poem with you written by my precious husband, Roger.

 Unending Hope

A baby dove sits on our porch
A runner this summer
will carry the torch

A child, teen, and adult
learning anew–
maturity and growth emerge
and shine through

But–
People go hungry
Long disputes linger on
Ailments come
Racism’s not yet gone

So go our everyday affairs
each ours to explain,
as we dare

 From whence comes hope,
I can’t be sure
but hope will not end,
hope will endure

- Roger Jones

This month, I will be posting daily reflections on the concept of The Metamorphosis of Hope and Presence and Beauty on Instagram and Facebook. I hope you will join me in the journey of exploring the concept of  change and growth. If you are not on social media, you are invited to download and print the PDF below for a daily reflection.  

You are also invited to click the buttons below to follow me on Facebook and Instagram for daily posts this month.

Cultivating - A Contemplative Practice

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

The word “cultivating” might stir up thoughts of farming, crops, and planting cycles. Up until last year, I had only a little experience with anything resembling cultivating, and that was with simple backyard landscaping and flowering pots on our front porch and back deck. However, this time last year after we got home from Jill’s wedding in Nepal and the world was in a pandemic, we found ourselves at home…by ourselves…with lots of time on our hands. We decided to try gardening. Suffice it to say, the cost per vegetable that survived our beginning cultivation experiments was much more than the cost per vegetable at the grocery store! 

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

But we discovered we loved gardening. We will be planting more vegetables this year! There is just such joy in coming outside to discover the beauty and growth as we peek at the blossoms of the baby eggplant and eagerly watch the stages of growth for the cucumber. We loved tasting the delicious flavors from the garden. We had fun showing our two granddaughters the process of planting, and waiting, and watching and celebrating the growth together. Of course, watering was their favorite part! We are definitely beginners in the gardening scene, but grateful for the opportunity to notice nature and the magnificence of the process of the growth cycles, and eager to learn more.

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

There’s another sense in which we can think of cultivating, though. Cultivating life has many similarities to cultivating vegetables and flora. The planting of dreams, watering with hope and waiting for growth. The wondering in the dormancy of winter if anything is really happening, or the questioning in the dry and down cycles if there is something worth waiting for. The patience and resilience needed amidst the “try, fall down, and get back up” cycles.

Now, as we are hopefully moving out of the pandemic, how does a sense of cultivating apply to our re-entry into life? How do we cultivate care for our hearts as we grieve – not only the personal losses and struggles so many of us have experienced, but the collective and complicated grief of so many? And what about the anxieties we feel as we approach the time of going “back to normal?” What about the social anxiety? “I am not sure I know how to have a conversation.” “What will it be like to be around people again?” “I can’t picture what ‘next’ is going to look like.” “I want to be hopeful, but I feel scared.” Or what if we had a taste of something better, something richer, something deeper in the midst of the pandemic, and we’re wondering if that can be cultivated and incorporated into life going forward? “I don’t know if I even want to go back to ‘normal’ as it was.” So many hesitancies as we look forward to the next season of our lives…

Photo Credit: Dianne Morris Jones

In cultivating a life, there are so many options of which seeds to plant. How to reflect, what to improve, how to develop by paying careful attention to specific moments, fostering the virtues and values that matter to us, devoting time and thought to even the idea of what we might want to enhance or change. Possibly it isn’t about “improving” or “bettering.” Instead, cultivating is about being mindful of the cycle or growth moment of accepting…embracing… reflecting….

May April be a beautiful month for you of cultivating your deepest desires, cultivating your biggest dreams, and especially cultivating hope amidst your most complicated and confusing struggles. May it be a time that your hurt can heal with the hope of spring – in your garden and in your heart.

Roger has beautifully encapsulated the tenets about Cultivating that you will be seeing in the daily posts/PDF for April through his poem, A Journey of Cultivation. Enjoy!

 A Journey of Cultivation
Let’s accompany each other on a cultivation journey. 
Authenticity will set us on a path paved with awe and beauty.
We begin with courage to discover the journey’s arc.

Along the way, we’ll give others our encouragement–with enthusiasm,
forgive an old wrong, and find the gold of friendship. We will–

Offer abounding gratitude for the voyage. Never, ever give up hope.
Proffer hospitality to strangers and friends, one and all. Imagine things
a new way. Let kindness be our religion and laughter our practice.

We’ll let go of grievances, new and old. Shine our light in the world. Let 
love, patience and peace rule hearts. Sacredly hold perspective.  
Live in the presence of now and ripen with the seasons of our souls.

We shall sit in silence and trust wisdom for cultivated growth–
generously unleashed in you and me.

- Roger Jones

This month, I will be posting daily reflections on the concept of cultivating on Instagram and Facebook. I hope you will join me in the journey of exploring the concept of cultivating seeds. If you are not on social media, you are invited to download and print the PDF below for a daily reflection. 

Cultivating Beauty Through Contemplative Photography Virtual Four Week Workshop

You are also invited to click the buttons below to follow me on Facebook and Instagram for daily posts this month.