Day 15: Motion
“We can choose to be stationary or we can choose to be still.”
Day 16: Get Out
“Maybe where you are and what you are doing this day is exactly right.”
Day 17: Cycle
“We are, at every moment, beginning and ending.”
Day 18: One Winter
“. . . our connections to one another had been exposed.”
Day 19: Fragments
“Your jots are the enduring evidence that we collided . . .”
Day 20: Breathe
“Make no mistake about this moment: it’s holy and you’re in it.”
These are just a few of the sentences/phrases I’ve underlined during our reading this week. It may be that Harrity’s words in his meditations are having as much, or even more, a profound effect on me as sliding my own pen across the page during our reflective responses and “assigned” exercises. For the moment anyway.
Holy collisions.
These two words have stalked me this week. Well, really, since we first started our journey through Making Manifest: On Faith, Creativity, and the Kingdom at Hand. I keep thinking about how the threads of each of our lives have been woven into this small sliver of time. How every step has brought us to this blip on eternity’s timeline for such a time as this.
Holy collisions in cyberspace.
Sacred intersections.
How could I ever have anticipated the connections that would occur when I signed on to Facebook for the first time in September 2008 or published my first blog post in July of 2009? The open doors? The lasting friendships?
It’s like a giant hand gathered all our story threads and tied them together, and now we’re connected to each other and have become part of each other’s stories.
Overwhelming. Really. Overwhelming.
In other news…
I finally decided to remove the Christmas wreath last week, but a robin found it first. Well, robins. It seems nest-building is a parental partnership. Two birds out of bazillions connected and set up housekeeping at my front door. I guess it shows how few human connections have been made there during cold weather. I’ve kept an eye on the pair of geese who’ve built their nest atop a muskrat house at the edge of the pond–and in full view. Right out in the open before the cattails grew tall enough to provide a small measure of concealment. How do bird mamas expect to protect their young anyway? Do they know enough to lean on a higher power to?
But I digress.
In one assignment this week, Harrity asked us to consider connections and associations as we thought about animals (preferably wild) we’ve encountered. Then we were to choose one and create a “vocabulary web” with generational thoughts. He sent us to new benches and windows to record fragments of wonder, to fill in blanks without a “worry about weirdness,” to breathe the “particles of God’s presence.” To show up, open up, and begin.
Our last exercise was to create a ten-line poem using an animal as its central image–a personal poem, a metaphorical poem, using some words and phrases from our week’s writing. Not just a poem about seeing an animal. What else would I write about except a bird?
Cradled
You pitched your pocket at the front door,
woven with grass and cemented with mud,
then planted three blue seeds—uncovered and exposed
to predators who dare peer over the cradle’s edge.
When disturbed, you flee to green-sleeved arms.
Me? I would have hung my hammock high,
nestled next to brittle, grayed bark petals,
secluded in the sanctum of a verdant canopy
and safe from stalkers. But then I suppose
my babies would have further to fall.
If you’re here, we’ve just had a holy collision in this space. Just think about what brought you here, to this moment, right now, to this place where I’ve asked God to use my words. Harrity says:
“If we say to God use my words, they’ll be made into poetry. If we say to God use my life, it will be revised into a risky, unimaginable grace.”
That’s my prayer. That He would break into my moments and break open my words, to use my life to create holy collisions.
In the stillness,
Sandy
A question (okay–two) for you via Harrity:
Can you think back to something that seemed insignificant at the time but is now realized as a turning point in your life.
How do the small actions in your life open to the larger plan that God has for you life?
Share in the comments.
Link up: If you’re journeying through Making Manifest this month, feel free to link up a post below. If not, maybe you’d like to share your day-21 poem in the comments. Or both.
Linking with Emily and Holley
Sandra,
I’m so thankful you entered the blogging world…and its true, those small moments can add up to the bigger than we can imagine…I never thought I would blog, yet here I am…I finally joined FB in Nov. 2012 …I’m so slow…Thank you for leading us on our journey through Dave’s book…your leadership is appreciated 🙂
Thank you for coming along, Dolly. And what about your Soul Care Manifesto? 🙂
No doubt about it… you’ve definitely been God-directed as you’ve opened opportunities here for creating holy collisions! I can’t believe I’ve been on FB since 2007, but the connections made there and on my blog have been a huge blessing to me.
It’s amazing to me–those connections. And then there are those initially tied by letters on a screen that have become sealed with physical hugs. Which if I ever find my way to Canada… 🙂
Holy connections and sacred intersections. I love it. The world calls it serendipity – God calls it His plans and purposes. Beautiful!
Hi, Deb. Thanks for coming by. What the world calls serendipity… Yep, we know different. 🙂
Sandy, I’m so grateful to have collided with you in cyberspace and for the opportunity to be part of this amazing journey. What a delightful group of writers and dreamers and worshipers came together in this “small sliver of time.” Thank you for all you’ve done to make it possible.
And I’m grateful to have collided with you, Tarissa. You’ve inspired and encouraged me. And the cool thing… the connection doesn’t have to be cut when we finish the book. 🙂
Wow! Sandra – I have had a hard time following along I think because of the fact that I have only the kindle version of Dave Harrity’s book. I so wish I would have bought the paperback. So I could hold it in my hands and spend more time with it. The words that have been landing on the pages of the internet during this holy collision have been beautiful and inspiring. I will have to just keep trying to plod along……Lord willing, some of my words will collide with all of yours.
Love this –
Kelly
I hope so, Kelly… that you’ll share some words with us. There are several Kindle users, and it’s too bad that Kindle hasn’t found a way yet to improve its formatting. I have a ton of books loaded on my Kindle/Kindle apps–but I don’t read them. I like real paper, even if it means I have to carry baskets of books. Kindle’s words just don’t seep into me the same way.
Thanks for letting me “use you up” Sandy these past days of writing through Making Manifest. You know I was (am) needy 🙂 Needy for community, needy to write, needing to surface from the most incredible seven months that whirled me away like a tornado in Kansas after a warm day in May to live like I never dreamed. Guess what? I found my way back home. (Dad discharged, going to maintenance at end of the month!) Forgive me for over-sharing in FB community. Need to put some reins on this extrovert at times. My animal (fish) poem from over there…
Resolution
The face of the pond
held his breath, waited—
blue light scattered, still.
From the depths, I rise
for a flashing moment,
disrupt the status quo.
On the edge,
in the rushes, the pond
gathers our circular emotions,
quietly returns to glass.
Comments from my husband who loves for me to write, but isn’t quite tracking on the 10 line poems…”So you’re a fish? ( I nod, pause in convo) “I am the pond?” Me: “Yep.” Ha! 🙂
Dea- I love how you shared your husband’s response to your poem. It’s always interesting to see what our writing provokes in others, especially those closest to us. Your poem makes me want to read it again and again. I love mysterious fish. We have a boat and I always wonder what makes the fish come break the surface for that moment. Glad to hear that your life is returning to home.
Sandra- What a holy joy it is to connect with others who desire to express their created selves in words and poems and bravery! I have been renewed! And want to be “used” again…my life and words!
I believe wholeheartedly in Holy Collisions. Your reflection today and your incredible poem makes me so happy that you and I connected in one of those Holy Collisions. Your writing never ceases to inspire me, Sandy. I am truly grateful for you!
Love and blessings!
Oh Sandy! I am always speechless at the depth, beauty, and surprises in your poetry. Sheer magic! Thank you, thank you!
Here’s a little offering. I h ope you will Google koi fish! Very colorful!
Fishing
by Lynn D. Morrissey
A kaleidescope of koi—sun-streaming gold, orange, crimson—
swim hectic circles, breaking lake-surface,
cavernous mouths agape, sucking water
and any scrap of food we rain down from the bridge.
But mostly, they swim dizzying whirlpools,
chasing tails of pointlessness.
I swim through Seiwa-en Japanese Garden’s circular paths,
destination always just around the bend, never visible,
mouth agape, barely breaking hope’s surface, always groping,
chasing tales without end, foraging breadcrumbs, oblivious to manna’s rain.
A lovely collection/intersection of words and images here, Sandy. Thank you. (Love your poem – but then, I love all your poems.)