Tag — unravelling
Sacred Life Sunday: Labyrinth
silent park
amid city noise
passers walk by, and i
i sit in the centers of centers
x marks the spot
grey walls and stone tower
surround me
ring me with I Am’s
branches overhead cross with
aged cracks
hail rains down
i sit alone
knowing that i am
what i am
created to do
rightwhereibelong
i circle out
dancing
In this photo post: What’s left of the Elys-style labyrinth at St. Mark’s Cathedral in Seattle. It was just me and the bagpiper that day. Often it’s just me and the giant pipe organ. Poem written at a labyrinth in Victoria, B.C. 2001. Would you like to Unravel? Sign up for Susannah Conway’s photography and journaling ecourse.
Unravelling: You, Distilled
This is the last week of my photo-journaling course with Susannah Conway. Her course, Unravelling, is all about connecting with the real you. I feel pretty connected to the real me, seeing as I am wont to be obsessive-compulsively self-reflect all on my very own. But I wanted to be prompted towards photography, and I’m (as ever) on a quest to make peace my with rebellious body. Unravelling helped me move forward in both of those worlds, and I am grateful.
Our last assignment was rich and multi-layered. I chose to fulfill it by writing a list of 40 Things About Moi, and by making this photo mosaic. Somehow I think my shoes (or lack thereof) say a lot about me and the wide curious creature who lives inside— ”distracted by sparkly things” yet strangely “the solid that is the center.”
Susannah’s courses sell out fast, so if these posts make you curious, be sure to sign up for her mailing list so you will be aware when the next series comes around. Thank you, Susannah and the Uravellers, for letting my world grow “curiouser and curiouser.”
In this photo post: 1. favoritesilikeorange, 2. unravelling feet red shoes, 3. feet black and white, 4. unravelling feet in love, 5. boboli dusty toes, 6. dk rocks the 80s, 7. not danish, 8. unravelling red shoes bijoo boo, 9. Summer batch 3 017, 10. soulsisters one 015, 11. cate’s tattoo 001, 12. Summer batch 3 020 Would you like to Unravel? Sign up for Susannah Conway’sphotography and journaling ecourse
Asking for Help: Seeing Ourselves
Sometimes we cannot see ourselves for who we really are.
While our compass is at our center, our community helps us to see.
What do you see in these photos? What is it about this face that moves you?
I’m curious to see what you see.
Love,
Magpie Girl
In this photo post: The four faces of me: out of the shower, made up for the day, just before bed, making dinner.
Would you like to Unravel? Sign up for Susannah Conway’sphotography and journaling ecourse.
favorite things: child of my heart
He comes to me in my dreams, this child of my heart, separated now seas and ages.
Sometimes the dreams are all absurdity. Last night in my somnolence he came to me with a new love. I asked after her: what captivated? what called? His serious reply: “She taught me the word “Huntington’s.” Ah, what meaning in that then? Pizza for dinner, perhaps.
Othertimes they are wrought with meaning — Jungian symbols all in a row. He is lost in the woods. And what are these clamps there on his shoulders, at his gut? What is written on this new scroll? Are we falling or flying?
When he feels far from me, this child of choice, I wear this ’round my neck. A charm passed to me from my soulsister, long ago when I was the age he is now. Touch it with one finger there at the hollow of my throat. For safety. For comfort. For joy. Hoping to only connect.
A talisman then, swinging there over my heart.
In this photo post: Favorite things, culled from a vagabond’s backpack while on furlough from Denmark in the States, and posed on a swing which has held three generations.
Would you like to Unravel? Sign up for Susannah Conway’sphotography and journaling ecourse.
bravery practice
Oh my, I am trying so hard to be brave. Here I am with my guitar at the Soulsister’s house on Hartsine Island. (I do so dislike having my picture taken — and now I have to take them of myself!) And here I am in the podcast, chatting and SINGING in front of you! (Be brave!)
Listen to the podcast here:
Subscribe to Magpie Girl podcasts on Zune, or on iTunes, or via RSS.
What makes you feel afraid? Where are you practicing bravery? Do tell!
In this post: Reflections of a vagabond in a borrowed guitar at a rented house. Would you like to Unravel? Sign up for Susannah Conway’s photography and journaling ecourse.
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth
There are surfaces in our lives which we pass by every day. The sheen of a coffee cup, the gleam of some stainless steel appliance, the window made a mirror by darkness. We pass them by, unseen and unnoticed. Yet they capture us and throw us back into the world.
If no one sees that reflected bit of us — your nose caught in the shine of the toothbrush holder, your fingers tapping out a rhythm on the guitar, the curve of your hip in the shower knob — does it make a sight? Does it make a sound?
I’ve been struggling this year with knowing that I am enough. Not when I’m fully actualized; not when I’ve achieved Nirvana; not when I’ve been transformed…but now, right now, I am enough. Even in illness. Even in shortcomings. Even in the ever-present, ever-niggling experience of not-knowing. Enough.
In every reflective surface, every unexpected mirror, the world captures my image and throws it back at me.
She chants: “Be here now.”
She bears witness: “You ARE here now.”
She testifies: “You, just as you are, are enough.”
Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? I do. Even to my very self.
This is for Susannah Conway’s Unravelling ecourse. If this inspires you, please consider taking the course. In this post: Reflections in a tub fixture with a lavender filter, black & white, the original photo, and colour saturation.
