July Enquirer

Silence and Reflection, Tomato Recipe, Three Things of Interest

Sound of Silence: A Meditation on a Still Point

“You can not turn yourself on like a switch.” Maria Bowler.

It’s come as a complete surprise that my on-off switch is stuck in off mode. I didn’t mean to switch off. It wasn’t on my to-do list. In fact, my daily plan has been in permanent “on” mode for decades.

Plans are like my rosary beads. I finger them all day, mumbling under my breath, “Hail Mary, full of grace, blessed are those who complete their to-do lists. And blessed is the fruit of all plans.

Since before Memorial Day, plans filled my daily cup to overflowing. At first, it was a dribble, nothing alarming. Then a wash and suddenly a flood of all kinds of life’s juice filling life’s cup without stopping. Until all I could do was toss the plans into the swirling waters and try to keep my head above water.

Not that being off has really been a problem. Life has been abundantly rich, a little vexing, and full of mystery. Since Memorial Day, I blinked once, maybe twice, and suddenly it was the 4^th of July.

There were hospital corridors and birthday cake candles, state lines crossed for family and friendship, and laughter laced with worry. Each moment added its own drop to the overflowing cup.

I love the juice that spills out of life’s squeeze. The essence of my creative life is to use that juice as the raw material for my art and writing. I set a daily deadline for some of my artistic endeavors to ensure that I stay in the creative mode with as little pretension or preciousness as possible. Nothing spurs creativity or humility like a daily deadline. If I’m off on a particular day, there’s always tomorrow.

I care about the artistry and craft of what I do, but the eye of the needle for this creative soul is made wider by daily practices that force me to create whether I feel like it or not. For me, a daily creative practice is a way to focus my soul on gratitude, which seems in very short supply worldwide. Life running through me makes my heart sing. It’s a song I sing as an offering back to the world.

And then the song stopped. At first, I thought “tomorrow.” And a few times over the last several weeks, I wrote, painted, and posted. But more times than not, all that met me was an odd silence. Odd in that it demanded I heed its call to be still and join it. Silence met by silence, in communion with silence.

What to make of this queer silence and stillness, or my equanimity in the demand that I return silence with silence?

It’s all a mystery. A mystery I’m daring to live into without explanation. There have been years of boisterous activity and sound, and God willing, there will be more. There’s a promise of more with this writing. More life, more squeeze, more juice.

There’s been an odd truth and trust in this silence and stillness. I’m breaking the quiet feeling nourished and refreshed.

Silence and reflection aren’t shiny. Nor do they diminish the divine spark committed to the fullness of expression.

Trusting my inner knowing of the call to stillness and silence is a way to build confidence in a wisdom larger than self. It isn’t giving up, or in. It was the snuffing of the light for a short while so I could experience and appreciate the quiet, comforting dark of silence.

Have you experienced the dizziness of surrender? What emerged the other side of your surrender?

xo

Felicia

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July Recipe: Easy Tomato Salad

I’m a tomato snob. I only eat tomatoes when they are available fresh locally at my home green grocer, Hoffman Produce Farms, open Fridays 3-6. We are officially in the snob tomato season.

This easy tomato salad recipe is my go to base because I can eat it as is, or dress it up. These quantities here are enough for two servings. Make only enough for one meal, as tomatoes and refrigeration do not mix well.

1 large tomato and one handful of cherry tomatoes, various varieties. 1 T olive oil, 1 T balsamic vinegar glaze, 1 T fresh basil, 1/2 T red onion. Salt and pepper to taste.

Here’s the go wild additons: cucumbers, peas, green beans, mozzarella balls, pasta, sweet peppers, green beans. Mix, match, go crazy fresh tomato season is short. You can toss in anything that pairs well with tomato.

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Enquirer: Notes of Interest

This month, I collected these little gems about art, literature, and nature, many of which came from your ideas and suggestions. Please let me know if you find or notice something that amazes or delights you. This month, I'm exploring a reflective pause.

A Sense of Place

Friend of the Enquirer, Julie Hughes, Sense of Place opened on the 4th of July at the Charles City Arts Center. Julie and I often paint together at the Hearst Center for the Art’s Thursday Painters group. Which gives me a sneak peak at what she’s up to. I find her work deeply meditative. This is art that must be seen in person to fully appreciate its impact. The show is open until August 16.

Myself, I feel very safe

When our Iowa senator, Joanie Ernst, tells the world, “Folks, we’re all going to die” as though dying is the solution for those of us who don’t agree with Republican policies, it was time to take myself off to the movie theater to escape both the heat of terrible politics and a summer drenched in heat and humidity. Wes Anderson’s The Phoenician Scheme delivers a campy answer to the question of redemption in a world where the guiding principle seems to be: if something or someone gets in your way, flatten it.

Making Time

This little book by Maria Bowler came into my life just as I slipped into the seam of stillness and silence. There’s a profound truth that what you need finds you. This delightfully small book packs a punch for those of us tempted by the myth of striving towards some impossible perfectability. I recommend pairing this with Oliver Burkeman’s Meditations for Mortals.

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