… watching for the brushstrokes of God
“I think it makes a huge difference, when you wake in the morning and come out of your house, … whether you are emerging out into a landscape that is just as much, if not more, alive as you, but in a totally different form, and if you go towards it with an open heart and a real, watchful reverence, that you will be absolutely amazed at what it will reveal to you.” John O’Donohue
What is the landscape of this season revealing to you?
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me. Emily Dickinson
What form or shape does hope take for you?
I stand at the doorway,
feel the pull between
inside burrowed under blankets,
fire glow and candles,
and stepping out under stars
— Christine Valters Paintner, “A Door Opens”
What pulls you?
“Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” Leonardo Da Vinci
What have you discovered this way?
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” W.B.Yeats
How do you lean into wonder?
Vibrant with color
in winter preparation
squirrelling away
How do you find joyful moments?
With the Eyes of the Heart 