Rock Solid

We may not be able to gather in groups, but our communities seem to be rock solid.

Some of us may have large families.

Others are smaller.

I’m part of a couple.

Fortunately, Rob and I like being together.

But lots of people live alone. Many of my friends who do, truly enjoy a solitary existence.

For others it is extremely difficult and they may feel a hole of emptiness that was once filled by social gatherings, church services, volunteer opportunities…the list goes on.

For those who feel grounded, it may be time to reach out to someone who doesn’t.

So they don’t feel so different;

like a chiton out of water.

So they realize they’re part of your tribe—that they’re not alone.

And that you love them.

Photos © Sondra Sula.

Take a walk with me by reading my most recent daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.

If you’d prefer a daily river walk, Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, might just be the book for you.

Beach Lessons 2

Life lessons lurk in every nook and cranny if one looks for them. Even on open stretches of beach there is much to be learned. When dry, this gray stone surely looks plain and smooth, but residual wetness has brought out its unusual pattern. If I partake in divine nourishment, will my true pattern emerge?

This rock appears to have living antennae. When I “tune in” with holy antennae, what do I sense?

A chiton has washed up on the sand. I marvel at its burgundy “velvet” exterior and bony dorsal shells. This marine mollusk is also known as a sea cradle. How do I allow myself to feel cradled by God?

These boulders provide a foundation for other forms of life. How do I facilitate the growth of others without eroding part of myself?

These stones have a comma between them. Do I pause long enough between one thought and the next? Between a question and an answer?

So much variety exists within one square patch of beach. The diversity of color, texture, size and shape makes the composition exciting. Do I appreciate the diversity in humanity? Every exquisite difference?

Abstract minimalism creates a pleasing simplicity. What parts of my life can I simplify to enhance my experience of living? What types of “mind clutter” do I allow into my thought processes?

This piece of metal is half buried yet is also being supported by the sand to remain upright. Sometimes there is a fine line between feeling supported and feeling suffocated. How do I find the best intentions within each person with whom I come into contact?

A rock full of holes has been pocked by constant abrasion. It tells a more complex story than a smooth stone. How do difficult times shape my character? Am I aware of the complexity of my story?

A pine cone reaches for a band of stones. Will they accept it? How often do I shy away from those who are reaching out to me?

A process of merging appears to be taking place. How does my merging with Spirit manifest itself outwardly?

The Holy Kiss: where my inner and outer lives touch. How can I maintain this holy connection?

Photos © Sondra Sula.

If you like these blogs, you’ll most likely enjoy my latest daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle versions.

If you haven’t read Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, another daily devotional, you may like that, as well.

The Wabi-Sabi of Closeness

When I get close to someone or something, I can see both the beauty and the flaws—they are inextricably intertwined. As I approach a resplendent rhododendron bloom to spy on a fly, I see the flower’s iridescent petals are marred with tiny brown spots.

A lily-of-the-valley shrub that looks unblemished from afar reveals small imperfections on its waxy white bells when seen up close.

Curled pink tongues of grevillea have shooting spathes, but one is broken. Miniscule blooms arising from juicy, succulent leaves have dead gray matter scattered between them.

The edges of a coral lily are slightly ragged and display whitish dots of lost color. A busy bee collects pollen from fresh bursts of blooms—but others held upon the same panicle are withered.

Oh, there’s a flawless fuchsia camellia! No…one of its petals has been crushed. The white one is yellowing and puckered along its perimeter.

An oxalis and magnolia fare no better: perfection just out of reach.

Every flaw gives the blossom its individuality, otherwise each would look exactly the same. The “Wabi-sabi” in each of us—a kind of aesthetic of imperfection—attracts others just as much as our beauty does. Why not revel in every little bit of who we are? Surely God does.

All photos © Sondra Sula.

The Big Catch

Ever since we moved to Fort Bragg, I’ve wanted to walk down to Hare Creek Beach. I drive past it nearly every day, and can see a tiny trail along the creek as I cross the bridge over it on Highway One. There is also a permanent circular bench that looks quaint from a distance.

Today I finally made the short trek. I parked in a lot where it appeared that someone was living in their car. Socks and shoes were thrown about the pavement and a towel hung across the vehicle’s window for privacy. There was even a tomato slice dried on the asphalt. Not the most auspicious start.

I had to cross a field that was strewn with garbage. Nearing the creek, I saw a bottle of ketchup and a jar of relish sitting atop a concrete post. As I approached the circular bench, plastic bags littered the seat, filled with who-knows-what. Is someone going jump out of the bushes and attack me? Yet I continued on.

The trail became narrower and more closed in from every direction, including overhead, so it became quite dark. Should I turn back?

That’s when I saw a chain link fence covered with colorfully painted fish. It appeared to be a community project done by a school group or some such entity. My trepidation swam away as I noted the fun, imaginative patterns on the wooden forms.

Before I knew it, I was out on the open beach with families laughing, children playing and dogs prancing about. Clumps of wildflowers grew in the sand and a shamrock seemed to wink at me from the center of a fallen log. I’m glad I didn’t turn back. After all, it’s always darkest before the dawn.

All photos © Sondra Sula.

Soaked

I was walking on an old logging road, taking a photo of raindrops balancing on a scotch broom bloom, when I heard the sound of a dirt bike. My neighbor had told me that the ATV and dirt bike riders he encountered when walking in this area were usually respectful, so I thought nothing of it.

But this person purposefully sped up and a moment later I was covered with mud from the tip of my hair bun to the heels of my new hiking boots. I was splashed with so much water that it soaked through my thick jeans and my underwear! I am not proud that an expletive escaped from my mouth, which was hanging open incredulously.

One of the prayers I recite every day is: I choose to understand why people do what they do. And I have to admit, I felt that I did understand why he—and yes, it was a he—did it. It was simply funny to him: She’s turned the other way and I’ll soak her—she’ll never see it coming.

I wanted to stop him on the way back and ask him if there was anyone in his life that he loved and/or respected, and if so, would he splash them? But I realized he’d probably just give me the finger and swerve around me, covering me with more mud. And as I looked around at fern fronds, geraniums and tissue-paper trilliums, I realized I was in good company—we were all soaked.

My prayer for him is that he is loved and respected by someone in his life that he can eventually emulate. And that he will one day have a moment of clarity and understand that what he did was inappropriate. I’m reaching for the stars, I know—but that pinprick of illumination is all I need to see in the dark.

All photos © Sondra Sula.

Wishful Thinking

“Wishful Thinking” by Sondra Sula

Whenever I see a dandelion gone to seed I think: wishes. Wishes sometimes cross over into the realm of fantasy, and I have one that pops into my head with frequency during this time of year: walking around America. I would start in Florida, travel up the east coast to Maine, turn west along the northern route to Washington state, then head south to California. I would be armed with only a notebook, pen, and some essentials.

The concept of this trip is based upon the belief that people are basically good and helpful. I would take no money with me, but instead rely on the generosity of others for shelter, food, and good conversation. In return, I might write them a poem, tell a story, or sing a song. A book would materialize upon completion of The Great Walk and faith in humanity would be restored.

“Entering Fantasy” by Sondra Sula

Then reality creeps in. Have I ever even walked for more than ten hours in one day? Have I ever slept alone in the woods with nothing but a sleeping bag? What if it rains? What if I get cold? How am I going to wash my long, unruly hair? What happens if I meet a person with ill intentions instead of a gentle, compassionate soul? Is this trip really just my wish for humanity?

“From Petal to Seed” by Sondra Sula

Some people think that prayer is like tossing up wishes to the wind. But I believe prayer takes many forms and is much more than mere wishful thinking. My pie-in-the-sky trip can be thought of as a form of prayer, a prayer of imagination like those used in Ignation exercises, to touch something beyond our ordinary lives. My observation of the dandelion seeds is also a prayer that encompasses thanksgiving, praise, and awe.

“Pucker Up” by Sondra Sula

My prayer for today is for us to remember what generous beings we really are, and if making a wish on a dandelion seed helps us to realize this truth, it’s time to pucker up.