A New Word For A New Year

Posted on January 4, 2024 by Ann Lovejoy
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Feed the Solstice fire bowl with hopes and dreams
Image by Patrick Gulke

Learning To Under-do

Happy Solstice! New Year! My wish? May this year be a time for assimilation of new ideas and greater understanding for us all. My own cycle of renewal starts with the Winter Solstice, not so much January 1. That moment in time when the balance of dark and light begins to shift back towards the light has always felt full of possibility to me, like a change point when we might tip ourselves away or towards whatever we choose. This Solstice was especially lovely since, after several frustrated attempts in recent years, we finally managed to celebrate the Solstice together as a family.

My grandkids were very excited about setting up the fire bowl and writing out our Solstice petitions. We like to write down things we want to let go of and things we want to get better at, as well as some world-wishes for peace and healing. We wrote on origami paper, which the kids folded into fire birds to give to the flames. They wrote with great concentration and mostly in silence (we don’t share our messages unless we choose to). The elder one did ask me how to spell patience, and the younger one asked how to spell provocative (she hears that from me fairly often: “Now THAT is provocative behavior, trying to get someone else in trouble…”). I was touched by both requests, and didn’t ask them about anything else they wrote, feeling sure that their words were both honest and heartfelt however spelled. My words were also heartfelt, especially the one I chose as my guide for the year to come: Under-Do!

Burning Away The Dross

We had planned to start the fire at exactly 4:32, Solstice sunset time around here. The youngest lit the kindling, which caught quickly, but some over enthusiastic poking caused the fire to fall apart and go out. We started again, with a little more restraint, and soon the bowl was full of flame, glowing against the darkening sky. The pale moon rose above the rooftops, just a few days off the full, with Jupiter shining beside her, brighter than any star. One by one we fed the fire with our petitions and pledges, the little birds flying into the flames, sending our words up to the stars in showers of sparks. It took a while. After such a dark and difficult year for our family, for the country, for the planet, there was a lot of let go of and a lot to hope for.

After their parents went back inside, the kids and I stayed by the fire until it fell into ashes and embers. The wood was dry and the fire burned fast, though a fair amount of poking sped the process up; who can resist poking a fire with a stick? When all the brightness was gone, we held hands for a moment then went inside together, quietly and thoughtfully. With six people sleeping in our little house, the space felt very full, though as they left, separately or together, it felt like we may not all meet again that way, or not for a while. Since then, I’ve been holding on to my chosen word, thinking about how to live into it, what that might look like this year and going forward. Under-doing is new territory for me, but I’m looking forward to exploring it. Onward, right?

Let’s brighten the darkness however we may

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Looking For A Stone

Posted on December 18, 2023 by Ann Lovejoy
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A beautiful bowlful of pocket rocks

Everybody Needs A Rock

After last week’s musings, I was reminded by a comment to revisit a book that I read with my kids many years ago and am now re-reading with my grandkids. It’s called Everybody Needs A Rock, written in 1974 by Byrd Baylor, with dreamy, evocative illustrations by Peter Parnall. In a world where books come and go but rarely stay, I was fascinated to find that our local library system has not one but five copies (very unusual since the system managers generally get rid of older books faster than they bring in new ones). Obviously this charming book still speaks to many people, since it’s gained Classic status.

The original American Library Association starred review said, “The free verse of this original book speaks perceptively to the spiritual-sensual affinity that can spring up between a living being and an inanimate object.” While I’ve never really thought about my relationship with rocks that way, I agree with the idea that physical connection with natural objects can be soothing and healing. I’ve always found my pocket rocks to be grounding as well, helping me to remember that we humans are part of the natural world even though we don’t always act like it.

Watching For Pocket Rocks

The book offers ten rules for finding a rock that suits you just right. My dad collected beautiful rocks whenever we were at the beach, bringing them home to the incorporate into the front walkway of our house. I remember watching him carefully place each stone before embedding each one in fresh concrete, alternating dark and light, striped and mottled, plain and sparkly. Growing up, I thought minerals were as beautiful and intriguing as plants. Though I never learned much geology, I’ve never lost my pleasure in handling and admiring lovely stones. While I always enjoyed reading the Everybody Needs A Rock book with kids, I’ve never had any trouble finding rocks that wanted to come home with me.

My grandkids also love stones and we rarely return home from walks without a pocketful of rocks, whether curious and interesting looking or simply stones that feel wonderful in the hand or to the touch. It can take some time to decide whether a given stone is right but the good news is, you can always put them back for someone else to find if they don’t work out. Some of my favorite stones have a slight depression that makes them especially strokable by a fidgeting thumb. When I first started doing a lot of public speaking, fiddling with my pocket rocks kept my hands from shaking with nerves. To this day, a good rock in each pocket can keep me calm and attentive during a loooooong meeting (or at least give me the appearance of being calm and attentive).

Gifting Stones

Yesterday my grandkids and I walked through our little town, looking at lights and decorations and admiring sparkly holiday displays. We ended up as we often do at a delightful little store called Hidden Gem, full of minerals and semi-precious stones in all shapes and sizes. After a great deal of looking and handling, they decided to buy some gifts for my daughter, who has had a long, painful and difficult year and is still not out of the woods. They finally settled on the idea of sewing two tiny silk bags and buying a very special stone to put in each one.

The older child chose Moonstone, partly because it’s one of the birthstones for June, but also because the description called it a stone for “new beginnings”, which would certainly be welcome(!). Moonstone is said to support inner growth and strength, soothe emotional and physical stress, and provide stable calmness. What’s not to love? The younger child chose a polished piece of Rose Quartz, partly because it’s so pretty and feels comforting, and partly because the description said that Rose Quartz opens the heart to self-love, friendship, deep inner healing and feelings of peace. Calming and reassuring, it also helps to comfort in times of grief. Not coincidentally, I happen to have several pieces of Rose Quartz in my own collection, as I find it very attractive to look at and to hold. As for those attributes, whether real or imaginary, I find the very idea of peaceful calmness comforting, and aspire to achieve that every day. Onward, right?

 

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Hopeful Holidays

Posted on December 11, 2023 by Ann Lovejoy
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Free spirited fun cheerfully ignores the template

Cultivating Creativity

My dear grandchildren have been with me quite a lot lately and I’ve been delighting in noticing how they are changing as they begin to grow up. Quite literally, as they both grew a lot taller over the summer, reminding me how quickly childhood streams away. It’s clear that the youngsters of today experience the world through very different lenses than I did. Even kids like mine who have very limited screen time and are not saturated in pop culture have a far better grip on the use of technological devices than I do. Their matter of fact proficiency shows me that they already take instant access to information totally for granted, something I would have been ecstatic about myself, as I was curious about so much that I noticed and read about and always wanted to find out more. The library was my absolute favorite place to spend time, though not all answers could be found even there. I loved wandering through the stacks, which seemed endless, towering floor to ceiling on three huge floors and packed with what seemed like millions of books.

That magnificent Carnegie library was and still is a treasure, and when I moved to the island, I was delighted to find similar stacks at the local library, if on a less grandiose basis. Today, however, our regional library system seems intent on getting rid of books altogether in favor of ebooks and audiobooks. While both have their place, it’s heartening to watch my grandchildren curl up with an actual book and lose themselves in a story. Interestingly, they often prefer older books where the character descriptions are limited and any illustrations leave a lot to the imagination. That way, the reader can dream into the story and characters and decide for themselves what people and places and things looked like. I myself prefer this style, and when my kiddos make up stories for their endless games, the plots are always imaginative and the sagas are full of intriguing characters and incidents that can change in a blink if the story needs a twist to make it more exciting.

Creative Holidays

That same free spirited approach is enlivening our holiday making as well. When presented with handy pre-made kits for making gingerbread houses, the children responded gleefully without the slightest regard for any intentions the makers had. They totally ignored the illustrated guide to icing and candy placement and instead created lively stories about the house inhabitants, which included Moss People and Shrub People, Frog People and Slug People, as well as mysterious Purple Blob People who then became food coloring-infused magical potions instead. The houses were soon dripping with these potions and surrounded with luxuriant gardens full of living plants and tiny magical critters. Extra pieces intended for roof dormers became tents put up beside a pond which supported magical lily pads for the Frog People.

I love their insouciance in regard to artistic rules, carefully nurtured by their parents. Their amazing mother is an artist who has supported their creativity in every way, from costuming and cookery to painting, sculpting and general Making. It’s been my privilege to build on that base, from knitting, sewing, and baking whatever their games required to suppling whatever additional materials are needed to incorporate treasures brought home from nature rambles into beautiful assemblages, often for gifts. Budgets are tight this year, so this weekend they spent a whole day making holiday gifts for their large extended family with hardly a break. They painted and drew, crafted with clay and assembled marvelously scented blends of dried petals we gathered all summer from roses and calendulas, lavender and chamomile. They made pot pourri and tea sachets and bath salts, then added essential oils to avocado oil and filled tiny bottles with oil made fragrant with attar of roses, orange oil and lavender essence. My kitchen still smells amazing, probably because the table absorbed a certain amount of the oil.

Gifts Of Creativity

The kids went home with a boxful of cinnamon rolls as well as their carefully wrapped gifts. I was left to revel in my own gift, a stained shirt that I hoped some fabric markers might hide. Instead of making a little flower as I suggested, my granddaughter transformed the plain shirt into an exploration of the galaxy, complete with a wrap-around Milky Way. Stars and moons and planets mingle cheerfully with all sorts of floating astronaut creatures, from a flying fish with a helmet full of water to a space bunny and much more. How much richer is her vision than mine, and how grateful I am for the opportunity to watch creativity bloom in another generation. Onward indeed!

 

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Hope Blooms In Unexpected Places

Posted on December 4, 2023 by Ann Lovejoy
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Blooming on despite freezing weather

Of Sweet Peas and Smooth Stones

This year I planted a late batch of sweet peas, not expecting much as they rarely thrive all summer. To my surprise, they rose up in a huge mass over six feet high and bloomed endlessly all summer long. Eventually a wild autumn wind storm blew most of them down yet they kept on blooming, if more sparsely, even while bent double. Several strands somehow clung to the house wall and they have continued to flower through freezing nights and several more gusty wind storms. Out of season flowers always seem especially precious, bravely blooming no matter what the world brings them. For many years I’ve made little end of the year tussy-mussies from such belated blooms, bound with a grassy ribbon to gift to friends.

In homage to the originals (bundled herbs held near the nose to cover up the stink of the Elizabethan streets), I always include fragrant herbs, from rosemary and sage to thyme, oregano, and a bit of mint (there’s always a bit of mint, even under deep snow). This year, my little bunches will hold a rosebud or two, along with the ever-productive calendulas and a spray of feverfew, but no sweet peas. Admiring the way these lingering flowers hang on day after day, producing bud after bud, I don’t have the heart to cut them. In the cool, moist air, they last far longer on the stem anyway; taken indoors, they fade and flop after just a day or two of warmth and dry air. Outside, they still attract hummingbirds as well as a few confused bees which stumble around like little drunks, probably wondering why they bothered to stay awake.

Persistence And Hope

When it feels like the fate of the world and the planet hang in the balance, hope isn’t easy to find. It’s tempting to ignore the many dire situations developing all around the world yet I don’t think we really can. Once we become aware of both the reality and the potential for worse, we can’t unknow that information. We can cover it up with various distractions but part of us is always aware that things on the brink can topple in a moment. I keep reminding myself that things can change for the better as well, if rarely in the blink of an eye. Looking back over my lifetime, it feels like there have always been looming dangers and difficulties like shadows in my mind and I know I’m not alone in this. Yesterday I overheard two passersby exchanging childhood memories of hiding under school desks in case a bomb hit nearby. One said she felt like that threat is back in play and the other nodded sadly, adding, unless the Big One hits first; then it’ll be tsunami time!

When we lack agency in so many arenas, I find it both hopeful and helpful to remind myself of things I CAN do. For starters, I can plant trees; whatever tomorrow brings, they will go on trading breath with other living beings. I can teach younger people to garden and to engage with plants more fully, so they know it’s not just about picking tomatoes. Every garden of any size is a gift to the planet and all its’ creatures. Learning to love bees and bugs and birds and bears and understand that they all deserve a peaceful place to live is an ongoing gift that really never ends. Learning to observe what’s happening in a garden beyond the human activity we may engage in is eye opening and helps us develop actual relationships with the plants and the critters. Walking around with younger (or older) people and noticing native plants, birds, and squirrels together can be eye opening too and maybe even life changing as well.

Hope Is Good Medicine

Instead of buying a bunch of holiday gifts this year, my family is gifting each other time and attention. We’re taking nature walks where we try to be as observant as possible, even though that may slow us down to a crawl. Sometimes the crawl is literal, as we get down on knees (and that ain’t always easy) to check out tiny fungi and mosses. Sometimes we spend time examining the intricacies of lacy lichens on twigs and branches and the flat, spreading ones on stumps and stones.
The grandkids always like to bring home a few treasures, from glossy chestnuts and acorns to glittery stones and shiny seashells. Truth be told, I still do that myself, especially when I find just the right water-smoothed stone to carry in my pocket. Holding such a stone feels like connecting to the earth; I love to imagine the long history that brought it from rugged cliff or mountaintop to river and ocean and finally to my path, a soothing, comforting gift from the earth. Thinking about the millennia, maybe even eons, it took for that stone to reach me reminds me that my perspective is extremely limited and short sighted. That in turn reminds me that taking comfort and finding peace wherever we can is good medicine for us and for the world. Onward, right?

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