the big house on what was the King family centennial farm
The stationary pilgrim always turns his head around to see what was or what could have been. He loses focus on the potential and possibility of now. So he stays in the position of inaction because he can’t imagine another way. Stationary is frail-boned, a faint pulse.
The still pilgrim is engaged in a fully-realized act of re-imagination. She’s looking down the barrel of the possible–of the moment–and lives by keenly seeing the potential of an enlarging world. She’s a revelator ordaining–with courage–an all-surpassing peace. Stillness has clarity in its bloodstream and intention in its heart.
~Dave Harrity in Making Manifest
sandhill crane
Are you still or stationary?
Stilled with possibility,
Sandy
Welcome to Still Saturday where we pause after a busy week, move in quiet pilgrimage, maybe linger a while in some still place, and soak in the beauty of images and words. We’d love for you to join us. Get the details on the left, grab your favorite button, and link up below. We all love to hear if something especially speaks to your heart, but please don’t feel pressured to comment. Simply take some time to gaze long and drink deep.
Wow, this is powerful! Who doesn’t want to be full of the possibilities? 🙂
I know I do! 🙂
“She’s looking down the barrel of the possible–of the moment–and lives by keenly seeing the potential of an enlarging world.”
What an interesting quote, Sandy. You always make me think. Have a wonderful weekend, my beautiful friend. xox
I think this totally quote describes you, Patricia. xo
When I see old houses like that, empty with big windows – I think about the life, the love, the raising of children – how could it just one day be empty like that – and I could get lost in that, that thinking, that fear of the story of my home, my me being lost – and so I make myself think of the now!
We see this house every. single. day. It’s right across the road. My husbands great-great-great and great-great grandfathers built it. The little house (also now run-down) on the property used to be a grainery and was moved to the property when my husband’s grandfather married. It used to sit on his grandmother’s farm. Then it was added on to make it bigger. It all makes me sad, but we have the stories and old photos. 🙂
My husband’s parents sold everything to a local farmer when they retired who later sold it to a developer who has rented out the land to another farmer but has done nothing with the houses.
I love old houses like that, Sandy. I am absolutely drawn to them. And i love this about being stationary. I was just reading something similar in Manning’s Ragamuffin Gospel. “We are either growing into more, or becoming less”…
God bless your weekend, sweet friend.
Or stagnant…
I love old houses, too. And barns.
Oh, these words convict me. Something vague and formless, threatening, now has a clear shape. It helps me see again.
God bless you for that tremendous gift!
Thanks, Sandra, for this post, and for this beautiful place.
That makes my heart sing, Sheila. Love to you. Again.
What a beautiful old house! Like a wrinkled face, it portrays its age yet shows the effects of having fulfilled a lifetime of memory-making.
The quotation gives me something to ponder. I treasure stillness but have often equated it with being temporarily stationary… like a heron motionless and waiting.
Blessings to you this weekend, Sandy.
Oh, so many stories in this place. We have some of the old photos. I remember being in the mill house up there when the cows came in. Dennis still thinks we could go up there and look around, but I’m afraid of a confrontation with the renter. The owner never did email or text permission.
And yes, I never thought about stillness still embracing movement.
Such beauty in finding the stillness. Thanks Sandra.
Always so grateful to have you here, Jason. It’s good to have a man around the house. 🙂
This makes me look deep inside and I know that far too often I am stationary. But I’m working on it – the Lord and I. 🙂
I know that feeling, Linda. Some of our movement during the stillness may be oh so imperceptible. But I know the beauty in you, and you are poetry in motion. 🙂
Beautiful quote & photo. Thanks for hosting & God bless!
You would really like this book, I think, Laurie. Which reminds me… I have an extra copy that I will give away sometime soon. 🙂
Just love that picture. I love cranes – their movements, slow and precise. Reminds me of Mary in the Bible and how I am trying to be.
Thanks for the linky,
Blessings,
Janis http://www.janiscox.com
Right away, I thought of the verse: “Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it” Powerful imagery!!
Oh, that’s good, Rebekah. And this discussion has made me ever so much grateful to live in this house, though sometimes it drives me crazy with its oldness and all that comes with that.
So fine words to reflect upon! Would like to learn to be more perceptive & see the possible moments to unfold ~ to see the grace and everyday miracles in a more clear light!
Me, too, Nina. Me, too! Bless you big, my friend.