The Birth of a Season

Time cannot be captured or harnessed, it can only be lived in and made the most of where we are with what we have. Seasons come into being as nature forms their very composition. Spring has come for the northern hemisphere in 2012, and not without the depth and variation that grew from winter's restless spirit.

As nature brings new days from the darkness of night, it also brings spring, from the seeming emptiness that is winter. Even the sun feels friendlier and less hostile as it begins to blanket the northern hemisphere with more of a gentle touch. Plants begin to grow again, and being among the life that is constantly taking shape opens my eyes and ears to what is about to become a memory.

Since time cannot be captured, aside from in photographs and writings. Maybe in the layers of flora that make the setting for our lives, we can experience what has come and what is yet to be found. It is in transition that life is lived, because even the seemingly static things change. Watch the stars in the sky for a few hours and you can see how they have appeared to move as Earth spins on its axis.

Yet in springtime, we can be in movement as we dance to the sound of the rain falling around us with the movement of our bodies with nature connecting us to this changing time. We can smell the aroma of violets grown wild and free and let their growth inspire us to live vibrantly and fully. We only have one life that we choose to form and react to in a multitude of ways. As colors form in nature, emotions flow in life, unexpectedly and beautifully as they transpire. With the expression of our connection, we can live in the changing times and see the opportunity to make something with the chance to reach to the steadier moments and let our choices fill our lives with wonder.

Growth nurtured by interconnectedness.

Wild vegetables grown by shade and sun, affirming the need for the dark and light.

Color bursting from the end of winter.

Last year's growth enriching the soil for a new year.

Reaching out of the ground that was scarred by winter's touch.

A Story Told Is A Life Shaped

One of the first gifts we are given is our voice. It is with our voice that our individual place in the history of humanity is understood by others and hopefully, by our selves. With the voice we're given, we forge an identity that becomes our very sense of what we're going to bring to life over the years we walk across this planet. As children, we are often exposed to the ways others live, the environments of our world, and the people who are our family and our neighbors. It is in a story we find others, we find life, and maybe most important, we find what we connect to.

Growing up, I heard stories that were illustrated by people acting out the actions that tell something about life and as I fell asleep while they were being read by the tender baritone that my dad was given to share with others. During this time, I connected to music that had lyrics formed into stories told as they were sung to a guitar strumming and a banjo twanging. It was the music that had its roots in the soil of gardens, its range across the heart of humanity's experience as the sun rose and set, and that found me connecting to others that are part of life with me.

In a story, we can grow with characters, hear the rhythm that pulses daily in our hearts, recognize our dilemmas and struggles, and continue to ask questions that lead to discovery. We tell stories to children so they can expand the images they have of life in their minds. Imaginations are formed through what we tell them through expressive, vivid, imagery that broaden a perspective and permit a new understanding to form and later be shared to the collective experience that is humanity.

Once a story ends, our place that we put in it, doesn't have to. A part of the story can light a flame or plant a bulb that we can kindle or nurture until it becomes a deep inspiration. We can sometimes only see other parts of life through story. In words spoken we can hear a story in harmony with illustration or in the rhythm that connects our lives to others.  The stories in our hearts from families, friends, other cultures, give meaning and color to the very purpose of life. Their essence touch our soul, reach our minds, and give depth to what we reach for when we sing together to unite as one people in a shared, similar experience, or awareness of what we can do to share life and a light through for each other.

In the story, we see the journey becoming the pages we illustrate. How we use our voice allows us to tell our story as we travel together. We need not tell the whole story of our lives. We can tell the parts that make us who we are, where we are, as we become alive as we relate and understand in new ways in new light whether it's firelight, flashlight, fluorescent light, sunlight, moonlight, or candle light. This is the light of a story, no matter how dark, that we begin to speak out of as our voice becomes part of our stories.

A story can be our bridge to the meaning of our lives built from imagination,
connection to reality, and new understanding.

Growing Up Together

As a kid, it felt like growing up would always take forever, and then once I became a grown up, life never seemed to stop moving faster. When I look at kids playing, laughing, stumbling, and being themselves, I see how precious they are. They have eyes that are full of wonder and awe, and it is the curiosity birthed with questions and open discovery that gives them their unique perspective on life. It seems that this perspective comes from an opportunity founded upon what we give them.

We can give the young people in our life hope by teaching them their importance by listening them We can teach them how to be alive by paying attention to them and then by living fully with them as they grow with us in life. Thus, kids have the unique opportunity to show us the gift of time. Time can be transcendent or it can be stagnant depending on what we do with it. Sometimes the only thing we can do with the time we are given is to understand that it is temporary, but a gift just the same.

Life's beautiful moments can happen as we live with those around us, especially those who will be on this planet after us. We can help them see what makes life worth living if we let ourselves see that it is worth it for ourselves, too. Are adults much different other than what we have already learned about what happens from day to day? Aren't we still the unique persons we were when we first saw the bright lights and stepped into life? Maybe then we can see life with others as all of life.

In hearing children singing together, I hear how young we all once were, and I hear the connection we have to one another. I hear the individual hearts that can work together to accomplish something great, and the hearts that can shape the world with their unique passions and dreams. Dreams, like children must be nurtured and cultivated with the realization that they can be squandered by fear, despair, and loss, although with assistance, we can see how these bring us closer to understanding what we want to accomplish in dreams -- while in children, they are signs that we can help them live and grow greater than the plights that can seem to threaten their futures. We can all learn from children as they grow and change faster than moments seem to contain. Memories are made, dreams are nurtured, and children are grown, and if we reach out to the child who needs us, we can touch their world, and ultimately our own and live beyond the confines of our own reality.

Three things I think everyone, especially children, need to thrive. Love, colorful surroundings, and nature.