A Beautiful Gift

I bought a beautiful flowering orchid about 3 months ago — so pink and perfect. For weeks I enjoyed it’s beauty without any effort to care or nurture it, until one day, I noticed that all the lovely pink flowers had fallen off the stem and they lay in a pile on the floor around the pot— the beautiful orchid 

was now bare and lifeless.

 I really hadn’t been very successful with caring for orchids in the past and usually ended up just throwing them out after a few months of no regrowth. However, this time was different… when I picked it up to throw it in the garbage I stopped... it looked so bare and vulnerable in that moment. I was mindful that maybe it just needed care and attention and nurturing if it was to blossom once again.

So I set aside time to care for it.

I nourished it by adding a little bit of plant food and made sure that it was placed in the right environment —I carefully placed it outside where the mist from the waterfall next door could reach it.

I let it breathe… inhale and exhale… I was so careful not to over water the orchid; I was patient and cared for it gently and carefully… I nurtured it and loved it. Within a couple of weeks, a pink bud appeared and in time it was fully blossoming. 

What a beautiful gift!

My orchid reminds me that just as I was almost ready to give up on it when it wasn’t blooming any longer, that organizations only too often discard people at the first sign of lifelessness.

 It takes time and effort and encouragement to regenerate the mind and the heart and to renew the spirit, it takes time… it takes a pause, it takes self-care, and it takes nurturing, nourishment, and the right environment.

Of course you must be mindful to slow down and to breathe. 

Honour all of the gifts…

 Like the orchid, when beautiful as well as lifeless 

and... that vulnerability is a gift

that can blossom

into a strong and beautiful flower

 A beautiful gift.

With A Grateful Heart

Beautiful Fall Thanksgiving day — With a Grateful Heart

My Refuge from the Storm

All my senses are present in this moment… Listen—See— breathe… inhale… exhale —smell—taste.  The sound of the gentle waterfall draws me closer.  The fish almost a quarter century old swim and jump in the pond.  The fish glide through the water effortlessly. The trees that surround me are a deep, rich, green -coloured rubber leaf that thrives in the humidity that is released from the pond. 

The smell of the spruce trees and pine trees nearby… so clean and fresh and tall. Inhale… exhale…. Be…be present in this moment.

I sit in our backyard enjoying the calm, relaxing spa- like ambience that is mine to luxuriate in.  Even as darkness falls, I sit, candles illuminating the darkness and I remain in this moment… I burn the sounds, the smells, and the feelings of nurturing my body, into my memory.  I am so grateful! I am so grateful for the sound of the waterfall. I am so grateful for the oxygen that is released in the air through the trees and the pond. I am so grateful that I am here in this moment that is just for me to experience.  I am aware of my presence in this moment as I allow myself to permeate the barrier and move beyond intruding thoughts.  I am peaceful and one with nature. Nature that is mine to relish in.

I am so grateful to our neighbours who have spent so much time and put so much love in creating this space that I, unbeknownst to them, luxuriate in. These are moments that invigorate and refresh my spirit.  This peaceful experience calms and rejuvenates my soul, my spirit, and my voice.  I long for this nourishment in the busyness of my day I anticipate the next luxurious indulgence where I can dwell in stillness.

My refuge from the storm

Nature in the City

The path leading me

To smell the spruce and pine trees

That fill the warm air

The birds sing sweetly

Water so still and calming

Ripples in the wind

By means of inquiry we are opened up to what is questionable in the world, to what normally goes unnoticed.

Karen Meyers

Warm blanket of cloud over the city of Vancouver one beautiful morning

Morning beauty

 A blanket of cloud envelops and warms the city creating a perfect picture. At first glance, the picture of the cloud above the city appears soft and fluffy and even looks warm.  But as the cloud dissipates, and we look deeper, we can clearly see the tall buildings in the city and the garbage on the streets and the poor souls who are suffering- often unnoticed.  If we were to take the time to look and listen, they will likely tell us that they are in pain and are lonely.  It is only when we allow ourselves to pause… look and listen to others voices -allowing them to speak, than we see, we hear and we understand – we experience their pain and loneliness.  Only then, will we feel the depth and pain below the soft, fluffy cloud as it appears to blanket and warms the city.

This first class highlighted for me the wonderful possibilities that lay within narrative inquiry and creative arts. The possibility for society to gain a deeper understanding of social injustice through experiencing narratives and plays such as “Watching Glory Die” or one that I saw a couple of years ago called “Next to Normal”.   These real- life tragedies allow for the audience to not only observe the issues but also to participate in the experience of the issue. The audience is drawn in as a witness, allowing for a deeper emotional awakening - feeling the pain, the sadness and the desperation that is presented through these plays and writings.  

I think that when we are given opportunity to feel and experience such tragedies this way, that we can move from a place of “feeling uneasy and saddened” to being “called into action”…. What is the intrinsic trigger that activates this response? Is it simply born from the act of pausing and listening and understanding- experiencing? If so, then there is power in narrative inquiry and in creative arts.

 We all have a voice… and we all have the power to influence.  Imagine what our world could be like if every one “Paused and Listened and truly reached out to understand each others soul.

Wendy Magnusson