Love & Energy Spiral
The structure of DNA is a double helix, double stranded like a twisted ladder. DNA carries information about who we are, where we are from, and what our health may look like in the future.
This morning I sit by my first garden, between the early morning shining sun in the east and the fading moon in the west. My feet in the cool grass. Two cardinals sing in the trees. A gold finch waits by the feeder. Ravens fly from rooftop to rooftop, watching me as I watch them. Since yesterday’s rain the humidity is gone and a breeze rustles the trees, their arms sway against a cerulean sky. It is then I knew my gardener’s soul arrived.
I’ve always loved the book The Secret Garden, a story about the healing power of a garden. Although my garden is for vegetables, the process of bringing it to life and watching it grow is more rewarding than I could have imagined. My only regret is not planting one sooner.
I loved the song ‘Autumn Leaves’ from the first time I heard it. I love the energy of the song and the way I feel singing it. I have spent hours with this song, singing this song just for the sheer pleasure like I did as a teenager.
At Thanksgiving this year it rained most of the weekend, but there were occasional short breaks. Dad and I went out on Sunday afternoon to take pictures along the Britt road (otherwise known as Riverside Drive). On Monday, driving home I continued to pull over and take pictures. Since the sky was so grey it made the colours pop.
sun lights red maple
summer afternoons gone
crisp breath talks
to fallen leaves
collected as treasures
upon our table
and sun and time
children like sunflowers
winter mornings near
bright appetites linger
savoured as love
captured in our portrait
and food and this.
© Jessica Outram
Julia Cameron recommends Morning Pages in The Artist’s Way. Freely write without censor every morning. Let the words lead the way. I never know where the words will go when I begin.
Morning is my favourite time to write. The house is quiet. It’s before 6:00 am and the morning darkness spreads a dreamy energy.
It begins in the full breath before the first chord with a gentle invitation, an encouraging welcome to connect to the song’s essence, a wish to become an instrument.
It’s my second year teaching high school. I work in a big school with about two thousand students. In Grade 11 Advanced English we study Macbeth.
“Miss, do we really have to write another essay?” a lanky boy in the front row asks.
If rocking chairs could speak, I bet they would have a lot to say. When selecting a title for Once Upon a Rocking Chair, I was drawn to the idea of using a rocking chair as the play’s central image.