Ease

Quite a few years ago, I realized that what I focus on, gets stronger. I was not, in fact, allowing life to happen to me; rather, I was choosing my own meandering reality. With this realization, I decided to choose peace. I chose detachment from what other people think. I chose forgiveness. I chose love. I drew a circle and wrote inside it all that I wanted to experience. Slowly, my life changed.

This morning, as I watch the horizon redden with sun’s rising, I choose ease.

You write or draw it: What do you choose for your life today?

Uncertainty

“I am content with uncertainty,” I said to the travel agent assisting my husband and me with a Rhine River cruise.

Tomorrow I leave for a visit with my sister, who has recently been diagnosed with liver cancer. We do not yet know the extent of the disease. We’re waiting for a biopsy and results.

I’m living life in a gap of not knowing. so I’ve been relying less on my brain and more on my heart. “Let my presence be love” is my mantra and my prayer.

Next week I’ll be away from my computer, so I’ll post again in two weeks.

You write or draw it: In this moment, how is it with you?

Autumn

Two days ago I arranged my fall decorations—beautiful glass pumpkins, red and yellow leaves. This morning it was too cold on the terrace to sit there. Autumn is here.

There’s something about the changing of the seasons that is sacred, which Emily Dickinson captured in this poem:

These are the days when Birds come back--

A very few--a Bird or two--

To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume

The old--old sophistries of June--

A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee--

Almost thy plausibility

Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear--

And softly thro' the altered air

Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh Sacrament of summer days,

Oh Last Communion in the Haze--

Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake--

Thy consecrated bread to take

And thine immortal wine!

You write or draw it: What is the changing of seasons to you?

Serenity

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change” is the beginning of the Serenity Prayer.

As I write, a family member is seriously ill, the extent as yet unknown. Another family member is facing legal issues whose outcome won’t be known for awhile. A European trip for my husband and me is in limbo. And yet, this morning the sun’s rays appeared on the horizon, and a new day is here. I agree to accept the things I cannot change.

You write or draw it: How do you stay free from worry and dread?

Two Questions

When I taught high school English, at the end of every year, I would ask my students, “What went well that I should continue to do? What would you like to see me change?” In response, my students gave me very valuable feedback that I always used to improve learning. for the next year’s students.

Then I left the classroom to go into administration, with no end of year. The mistakes and omissions I made followed me, and I never had the sense of new beginning.

Now I realize that, in any situation, I can ask those same two questions. They are relevant for jobs, for marriage, for relationships, for volunteerism. Two simple questions to restart and refresh.

Nancy Oelklaus is the author of Journey from Head to Heart and Alphabet Meditations for Teachers. Her latest book, Simple Serenity, will be published in the first quarter of 2022.

Sweep

When someone I love dies, I

Find something to sweep—

A driveway, a terrace—

Something usually unnoticed.

I don’t know why I sweep.

Moving the energy, maybe—

Perhaps avoiding grief,

Or controlling the things I can.

I sweep.

You write or draw it: How do you manage grief?

Nancy Oelklaus is the author of Journey from Head to Heart and Alphabet Meditations for Teachers. Her latest book, Simple Serenity, will be published in the first quarter of 2022.

Life Is Good

It’s a beautiful day in Sedona, Arizona. Recent rains and cooler temperatures convinced the pink muhly to begin blooming, weeks before its normal time. The sky is clear blue, with a slight breeze. The red rocks bask in the sun’s warmth. Life is good and all is well.

You write or draw it: How is it with you?

Life Goes On

A cancer diagnosis is given;

Life goes on.

Peaches are abundant;

Life goes on.

An angry young woman confronts the world;

Life goes on.

A loving friend makes peach cobbler;

Life goes on.

Energy

Invisible yet powerful, energy emanates from us. If we default to weak energy like resentment or blame or simple worry, we are easy prey for constant depletion.

But if we choose strong energy like acceptance or love (“the greatest of these”) we live happy, peaceful, fulfilling lives, regardless of our circumstance.

Begin this journey with awareness: What energy is driving you right now? Is it what you want?

Grace

A day comes

When all the battles

Have been fought,

And all I have to give

Is grace.

Tapestry

Confederate statues are removed.

Children heal in a neighborhood garden.

A billionaire celebrates his first space flight.

Photos of children killed by a tyrant are aired.

Angry crowds spew hatred and lies.

An unstable country looks for leadership.

The desert breeze flows.

Weeds

Outside my office window is a rock-strewn patch that was meant to be bare. But I constantly had to weed it, even though there was a fabric weed barrier under the rocks.

One day during the pandemic, I decided to put a wildflower garden in that space. I reasoned, “If weeds can grow here, so can wildflowers.” So I mixed some seeds with potting soil and simply spread them by hand, on top of the rocks. To my delight, they grew. Then they grew some more. Then they bloomed. It’s July, and different species have been blooming since February. Not only have they given the beauty of their multi-colored flowers, but they have also attracted birds, who love the seeds.

Here’s the surprise: No weeds. On the periphery, yes, a few. But not in the heart of the garden.

There’s a lesson in this story somewhere. What do you think it is?

Bees

I went back to the store to buy more of the best honey I’ve ever eaten.

The shelf was empty.

“A fire,” the clerk said. “All of the bees are dead.”

An ache pierced my heart for the innocent bees.

You write or draw it: When was the last time you felt your heart pierced?

Tapestry

Too many horses die under one man’s care.

Friends laugh together at dinner.

A dishonored restaurant staff quits en masse.

A power line is downed by high winds.

A fire’s fierce glow replaces sunset.

Tapestry

A man tells his wife he is ending their marriage.

Children squeal with delight in the resort’s pool.

A museum mounts a new exhibit.

Fountains flow.

A house finch peers curiously into the window.

Freedom

Freedom. Some people die for it. Some never realize it.

But for those who do, it is a blessed state. It’s living from one’s heart—realizing full potential, free from others’ constraints and control.

Today I celebrate freedom.

Desert Varnish

When I was growing up, sharing experiences meant talking about what was bad—what someone did wrong—sharing negative judgments about ourselves and others. Someone who shared positive, uplifting experiences, as I have in the book I’m writing, would have been labeled “uppity” or “big headed” or “self-righteous.”

Recently I had to stop writing because I was drowning in the old voice of self-condemnation and limitation.

 A bit later, a friend pointed out one of Sedona’s red rocks with black areas of “desert varnish,” a patina that forms through the years and increases uniqueness. Then I realized that I could think of these old voices as my “desert varnish.” They are part of a pattern that I can notice, appreciate, and walk away from.

The truth is, my state of mind and yours are a choice. And the whole truth is, we attract what we emit. We truly can live the lives we want.

Equanimity

A friend says, “No.”

A woman is killed by a black bear.

A single peony blooms.

Birds tend their nests.

Wildflowers bloom.

A man takes his morning walk.

Orchid

Over the years, I’ve had many orchids. I love them for their beauty and the long life of the flowers. After the last one has dropped, I want the plant to bloom again. I’ve tried fertilizer, cutting them back, putting them in the right light. Nothing worked.

The last orchid I bought was purple, with beautiful blooms on three stalks. Predictably, all the blooms fell off. This time, I decided to leave the orchid alone, just sitting on the corner of my bathtub. Occasionally, when I thought of it, I would water it a bit.

To my amazement, one day buds began to appear. Today the orchid is in full bloom, with many buds awaiting their opening.

Sometimes, when I leave things alone, they take care of themselves.

You write or draw it: Have you had a similar experience? What was it?

Tapestry

A prince is laid to rest.

Tired vacationers return home.

A community mourns a shooting.

Children splash in the pool.

A flight takes off.