Grace

I look at a pine tree shimmering
Each needle dressed in light
And gently graced by a breeze.
It bows and dances and kisses the air.
And this yellow oak made bright,
Each leaf turned open and upwards,
like hands lifted in praise of the sun.
They are breathing.
These leaves are breathing.

When I auditioned for the
Actors Studio in NY they had my scene
partner and I wait in the back courtyard of
the little theatre on west 44th street.
I stood in the center of the small concrete
space and there to one side was a yellow tree.
Until our names were called I stared into the tree.
I looked into the tree and shared its breath.
I grew so quiet and so still but something else
happened too.
I entered the realm of the miraculous
because I joined the miracle of the tree.
I became awe.  I became beauty. I became
creativity because I entered grace.
I can still see my first moment of work there
as our scene began and it was everything
I was. The work was beautiful because I took
the miracle of the tree with me.

See something of beauty.
Look deeply.
Take it in and with you
that your day
may be graceful.

Behold

It is grey here. We call it June gloom. The mornings begin softly and under cover. Those who come to vacation find it perhaps disappointing, making their beach day somewhat foreshortened, but I love these mornings that withdraw the obligation of a bold sun.  My patio is a gentle place for me to write this morning. The air is cool and against a grey backdrop all the flowers of this bit of nature I behold, take this protected moment to call out with all the strength of their color.

Deborah Turbeville Photographer

Melody

It was good to see Melody. She is medicine for my soul. She gives even by her presence alone,  such is the integrity of her being.  Some women shine a light so clearly upon you,  as for you to see yourself under their love. The gift you take home is not so much the love they give, but the awareness of the love you have.

Driving home the distance of the length of LA, I dreamt of a fine future. I thanked her for allowing my mind flight.  She does not waste our time on the past and things we cannot change. She does not draw us into argument nor debate.  She sees me as whole, and lets me be.  In her eyes, I see a picture of myself I recognize and can honor.  Like this, she gives a gift of acceptance to me.

This morning I see her managing her beautiful little girls, two at two, as they are twins.  God is a genius.  He knew one alone would spill her love out. It would take two together to know her.

Photo by Sarah Moon

The View

Sacha van Dorssen 1981

“Would you mind

not doing

the critique on my life?”

I told her.

 “Would it be

alright

not to do

your

summation

of my

history?

 I’m doing

just fine,

thank you.”

I added.

 You have

only your

story.

Stick to it.

Do not

turn

your attention

to mine

with your

hurts,

your confusion,

your frustration

and losses.

 I have

my own

story

and it

is having

its way

with me.

I am interested

in it.

I do not

characterize

my hurts

my frustrations

my confushion

as my losses.

Move from

across

to

beside me.

Share

the view

as I

lift

and turn

the jewels

of my

life

slowly

into

the light.

Be

my friend

in this.