
Everything in me
is quiet like
a rug spread
out in the sun to dry. – Barbara Gibson
What does quiet look like within you?

… watching for the brushstrokes of God

Everything in me
is quiet like
a rug spread
out in the sun to dry. – Barbara Gibson
What does quiet look like within you?

“We need to find God, and God cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass – grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. We need silence to be able to touch souls.” Teresa of Calcutta
What touches your soul?

I came across a reference to the early Velazquez palette named after the Spanish painter who used it frequently. For the primary colors of yellow, red and blue he apparently used Yellow Ochre, Burnt Umber and black (or Payne’s Grey here).
What kind of playfulness does this call for? How deep do you have to dig within?

Do not hurry. as you walk with grief; it does not help the journey.
Walk slowly. pausing often: do not hurry as you walk with grief. …
Take time, be gentle as you walk with grief. From Northumbria Prayerbook
In these months of covid the big and small losses add up. What are you grieving?

“Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.” John O’Donahue
How do you open the well of color?

In this digital world of ours, as we move from one meeting to another without leaving the room, we have lost the spaciousness of travel, the in-between spaces that open up to reflection and deep breath, of noticing the leaves on the trees and watching the sun rise through the morning fog…the spaces where we are held by God, the creator and sustainer.
How do you create moments to catch your breath?