Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

Writing 101 – Reflections

Viva change! I chose my writing name in the midst of a season of life changes which afforded no end of inspiration and material for my posts. I would not have thought my stats had anything to contribute to the heart of my blog. I checked them out and discovered an objective view of exactly what I have been writing about. Touche!

Riches of aging, memoir, changing seasons, creative aging are the categories my readers like best. The most clicked tag is poetry. No surprises there. My stats reflect what flows from my muse. Being fallow is another chosen category high on my stats that gets to the root of my creative force.

“Once upon a time” as stories begin, I sat beside a brown fallow field. I was on the cusp of receiving Social Security when I spent a week in a resort by the Pacific Ocean in Carlsbad CA. My room had a balcony that overlooked a huge field where thousands of tulip bulbs bloom every Spring. It must have been a glorious sight but this was June and all I could see was acres of dirt. There were a few workers digging up the last of the tulip stems and bulbs in preparation for next season’s planting.

The fallow field called to me as a spiritual sister. I felt the energy of change – the life force unseen but pulsing. I knew this well within myself. Though I was entering a new phase of life and appeared as one aging, I deeply affirmed the possibility of wonders still ahead. I contemplated the field rich with everything necessary for life as it lay there doing nothing. It was nice to be entering my own fallow season where my creative gifts can bloom in good time.


Writing 201: Poetry – Sonnet – One Rose

My life has been a rich bouquet
Composed of flowers, weeds and thorns.
I cherish,  give value to every one
For different gifts they’ve given me.

Flowers bloomed beauty in my path.
Weeds put obstacles before me.
Thorns taught grappling with problems.
All were life lessons necessary.

My life has changed, bouquet no longer
My lot is now a fallow field
Ready to grow what seeds are planted.

My life’s become simplicity.
Time to be one rose complete.
For more is less and less is more.


Writing 101, Day Two: A Room With a View or Just a View.

The Carlsbad Flower Fields are fifty acres of land in Carlsbad CA near the Pacific Ocean. Planted in these fields are thousands of tulip bulbs that bloom in March and April every spring. When the tulips bloom it is like a Monet painting come alive. I hadn’t known about the Flower Fields when I booked a week in May at a hotel in Carlsbad so I never saw the fields in bloom. Instead, I experienced the majesty of the fields lying fallow.

My hotel room had a little balcony. It provided me with a front row seat overlooking the fields. I sat there in the presence of the bare earth. Though the time for blooming was over, there was a different beauty in the brown fields now furrowed and awaiting time for the planting of new bulbs. I was overcome with a visceral connection between the brown earth and me. The fields were fallow, but full of promise. The earth possessed everything for the cycle of growth and blooming, fading and resting. The fallow earth was complete in itself with possibilities for creation and beauty. And it had to do nothing.

I breathed in the word fallow like a mantra. For so many years I had been about the busy-ness of life – marriage, children, now grandchildren, work, getting more degrees and changing course to work again, volunteer work. Fallow felt just right for me. It was time to breathe in the simplicity of bearing fruit from what was already planted within me. And to breathe out anxiety about getting things done on a deadline, keeping commitments to so many people and things, loving my family actively and mostly putting my concerns for them first. I think I love all things more deeply now out of fallowness.

Today I can picture the fallow field and feel my own fallowness. I can go to this place and be at peace and altogether alive.