Seasons Archives - Page 3 of 3

First Snow

December 5, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

All sound is muffled and everything is still. Snowflakes are slowly and steadily drifting to the ground.

There is something magical about the first snowfall of the year. Every year, I experience this feeling. For me, there is a sense of wonder, as I see it all with beginner eyes.

Through the intervening seasons, I have forgotten the immediacy of the rigors of winter. I am seeing and feeling with a childlike sense of awe and wonder.

This makes me curious about how I see my life, as I live it, day to day. I wonder what would be possible if I were able to come to it with more of a sense of beginner eyes.

Could I recapture some of that innocence of seeing? Could I feel, again, some of that feeling of amazement at the most ordinary things?

How can we come to our lives with that spirit of freshness?

Scattering Seeds

December 4, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

Today I was out scattering seeds on my land.

I gathered these seeds in the prairie. I’m sending them off with wishes that some of them take root next Spring, in the abundance of sun and rain that will be available to them then.

I marvel at how each variety of seed looks so different. The varieties of texture and size and color are incredible.

Each seed, however tiny, has in it the intelligence to guide it to full fruition. It knows what it is to be and it has a pathway to get there.

Like the seed, we have intelligence deep within us, to guide us along our way.

For years, I doubted this, because I couldn’t reliably access it. I’d receive intuition and inspiration occasionally, but, honestly, it seemed a bit arbitrary and capricious. Kind of like a friend that you couldn’t count on to be there for you. My guidance seemed to come and go at its whim.

Our inner essence knows what we need to know, in order to grow and to create, and to thrive. Our bit is to learn how to tune into that intelligence within. I’m guessing that this is something that the seed doesn’t have to give much thought to, but we humans have a lot of distractions to cope with.

My inner wisdom seems to move at an altogether different rhythm and pace than I do. So, first, I need to entrain to its rhythm by meditating or doing some slow breathing.

My inner intelligence seems to share what it wants me to hear, rather than what I want to know. I need to be open and receptive to whatever might arise from within, rather than what I think it should tell me.

And, I need to be sincere in my invitation and intention. It helps me to surrender to the wisdom, and to allow to come whatever is meant to come into my awareness in that moment. Being curious helps me be open and sincere.

So I just tune in and ask, with a sincere heart: What do I need to know, right now?

It could not be simpler, but I find that it isn’t always easy to shed all of what I bring to the process, so that I can be an open, clear receptive field of listening. I want to be like the land, open and receptive to the fertile seeds taking root.

Take a moment to breathe deeply. What does your inner wisdom want you to know right now?

Snow Birds

December 3, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

The Snow Birds are back.

They are actually Juncos. They are a bird that migrates in to spend their winter here, hence their nickname. I know, when I see them, that the first snowfall is not far off.

I look forward to the arrival of the Snow Birds each year, I appreciate their company for the winter months. Most songbirds are long gone, having taken off for warmer climes. They won’t be back until March or April, even May, for some.

The Snow Birds scratch in the snow to access their food. I marvel at their ability to survive in the harsh conditions of our winters. They look soft and fragile, but they are actually very hardy.

As I get older, I catch myself thinking that I am fragile, and I can unconsciously begin to act “as if” I am, falling into alignment with cultural expectations for people of my age group.

I’m not recommending that we get reckless as we age, but I do think that we need to remember how many life skills we have, and how wise and capable we really are, from all the living that we have done. And, how hardy we are.

Sometimes I look at the Snow Birds and think that they must be having a hard time in the rigors of winter. And then I remember that they are built for it.

That is what I wish us to remember too: our hardiness, our resilience, our capability. We are built for it.

Beauty and Dignity

December 2, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

I look at this tree and see beauty, strength, and dignity.

This tree lived a long time. Probably not a hundred years, like the oaks on this land, but a long time. When I look at it now, I see its history. I think of the many years of growth, and green, and colors changing in the fall.

This tree stands like a sentry at the edge of the prairie. It has stood in many winters, exposed to the blasting winds and snow that sweep down this hill. It has stood for cycle after cycle.

I feel like we can learn a lot from trees, about the cycles of life that are similar to our cycles. Sometimes we feel like we are in dormancy, like something is incubating, and all there is to do is to wait. This is always hard for me to do, but it isn’t hard for the tree.

And then there is growth, and production, and harvest, when the tree is a real work horse. The tree teaches me about sustainability in this cycle.

There is much for the tree to teach me about letting go. In the Autumn, the leaves fall easily from the tree. I could learn about letting go, with ease, and making way for the next cycle of growth.

But most of all now, I feel like this tree can teach me about aging with beauty, and strength, and dignity. This is what I am looking to learn these days, and when I look at this tree, standing alone, I feel this tree radiating these qualities.

It is beautiful and strong, regardless. That is what I want to be.

What do you learn from trees?

Waking Up

November 26, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

Mother Nature is giving it everything she’s got today.

Sleety stuff that passes for rain, forty mph winds, with gusts to fifty. It would be a blizzard if the temperature was a little lower. As we all know, Mother Nature isn’t always warm and fuzzy.

I do love the raw power of nature. As long as I am not in immediate danger, it energizes me.

It wakes me up to life. When I’m out in this stuff, there’s no way to fall into complacency, I can’t slip into a trance while I am out walking. This kind of weather demands that I be fully present in the now moment.

I need things in my life that will wake me up. I think we all do. It is so easy to fall into just putting one foot in front of the other and moving through my life.

I get back from my walk and I really appreciate things that I normally take for granted.

The heat in the house feels so warm and cozy. My cup of tea tastes particularly nourishing.

I appreciate my commitment to take care of myself and my dogs by walking them, even in weather like this.

Most of all, I appreciate being awakened to life again, in such a powerful way.

What wakes you up?

The Tilling of Potential

November 25, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

Today I was walking with my dog Harper on the edge of a newly tilled field. Harper was exploring the field, looking for treasures that might have been churned up when the field was worked. He is a particular fan of corn kernels that didn’t make it into the combine.

I was enjoying the brisk November sunshine.

It was just last week that Al and his son Jordan were tilling the field with a disk harrow.

I love it when they till the fields, exposing the rich, black chunks of earth that will lie fallow until next Spring, when the earth will be ready to receive the seeds of a new crop.

There is such beauty, to me, in all of this potential. The field looks to me like a field of potential.

It is hopeful: what might appear dead right now is actually teeming with life below the surface, and the earth is readying itself to receive the seeds that will spring into life in just a few months time.

This makes me think about how much untapped potential lies within us.

What if we think of ourselves as a field of potential?

Imagine that you are a rich, fertile field, ready to receive the inspiration that will carry you forward into you into the next phase of your journey. Sit quietly for a few moments, and allow your inner wisdom to inform you. What potential lies within you?

Incubation Time

November 24, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

Nature has so much to teach us. I’m looking out at the bare trees, just stripped of their leaves by a ruthless and ferocious North wind.

Just a few days ago they were sporting their fall resplendence of oranges, reds, and yellows.

It will be a full five months before the tender green buds will begin to leaf out in those trees. Then the cycle of growth, production, and harvest will begin all over again.

This is a time of dormancy and incubation.

It never occurs to me to give myself a period of dormancy and incubation time between work cycles or projects. I just keep pushing ahead, into the next thing. And, usually, it is full speed ahead. We have been conditioned to just keep going, relentlessly.

What is the price that we pay for that?

I’m guessing that the full growth and production of the tree depends on this period of rest. While I don’t know what it is specifically, there is stuff that needs to be done by the tree in dormancy.

Nature builds in down time.

What would be different if we allowed ourselves some down time after a big project?

What would be possible, that isn’t possible now?

How challenging would it be to give ourselves this time?

What about you? Where do you need some down time, and what could it look like?

The Art of Receiving

November 21, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

Today as I am walking, a glint of bright red catches my attention.

It’s a bright red maple leaf, amongst all the brown oak leaves, and I know that this was meant for me to see. On my walks, I am always eager to discover what life is showing me, right in the moment.

I particularly love the colors of maple leaves in the fall, and there are very few maple trees in my neighborhood. This one is a tiny seedling, with just the one leaf on it. But it is showing its colors brightly, and it delights me to see it.

My walks have become so much more enjoyable since I have become more engaged with my environment. Part of being more engaged is that I look for things to draw, and drawing helps me see better.

I think it is more than just seeing better, though.

I think it’s as simple as being very present to my experience, and not with my thinking brain, but with my heart.

It is a receiving, more than a seeing.

I believe that what is meant for us is given to us in every moment. What varies in our ability to receive is our attentiveness and our openness.

If we believe that life has an intelligence (and it is hard not to believe that, knowing that the acorn has oakness already in it), then why wouldn’t we have the intelligence that we need, for our full experience of life?

So I have been practicing receiving what is meant for me, in any moment. This is easiest for me to do when I am out on my walks, because I feel very connected with nature.

When I am in nature, it is easy for me to tune in and be present in the moment, and to see what is meant for me. In nature, it is much easier than it is in other activities of my life.

What is meant for me can come on any channel. Sometimes I see it. Other times I feel it or just get a sense of it, or a hunch. Sometimes a picture might come into my mind.

When I give myself whole-heartedly to my experience, and tune in completely, I become aware of whatever is being given to me, or meant for me, in any moment. I do this by surrendering any expectations or agenda that I might have in my mind, and I become a “fertile field” of awareness.

I think this is what makes me open and receptive to receiving what is being offered to me by life, in any moment.

So, I’ve been practicing this art of receiving on my walks, because that is where it is easiest for me to be present, aware, and receptive. Maybe someday I will be able to be this way in the rest of my life.

How do you tune into what is meant for you to receive?

What Is Ready for Harvest

November 18, 2015 by Lynne Fairchild Leave a Comment

My neighbor is harvesting his corn. It seems like he is the last farmer in the area to pull his corn in this year. All day I hear the combine in the field, and I can feel the weight of the trucks filled with corn as they rumble down our road.

This is always a bittersweet time of year for me. I love the harvest time, but I’m aware of the end of lush green growth of summer, and also of the bitter cold that is just around the corner.

However, I do love the rhythm of the farm season.

I’m always excited to see the seeds being planted in the spring; this speaks of promise and potential to me. There are still remnants of the winter cold at that time, but I can feel the ground warming up and becoming receptive for new growth.

Then, the shoots come up, and the long days of summer stretch out. I love to watch the corn stalks grow, until they tower over us on our walks. The corn cobs become full and ripe.

It takes a long time for the corn to dry on the stalks, until the moisture content is sufficiently low for harvest. There have been years where there is snow on the ground while the combines are in the fields. The dry brown corn stalks are an unmistakable sign of fall and impending winter.

I’ve lived in farm country for thirty years now, so the rhythm of these cycles is close to my heart now. I feel the cycles because they are all around me.

I feel like I go through similar cycles of dormancy, incubation, growth and harvest. We all do.

I’m in a harvesting time of life right now. It feels like one long cycle of growth is winding down, and ready for harvest, but I’m not quite clear what it is, or what the harvest will be, yet. I’m just aware that I’m resonating with the activity of the season that is all around me.

For those of us who write, or paint, or create in some way, there seem to be distinct cycles that we go through, of learning, growth, creating, and then harvesting, or sharing our work with others, so they can benefit from our creating.

Farmers know when to harvest, because they test the moisture content of the corn.

For us in the creative arts, it may not be so clear when to harvest. When is the learning, growth, and production complete, and ready to be shared with others?

Harvesting is an acknowledgement of completion, and it requires letting go.

We benefit from harvesting the fruits of our creative flow, because in harvesting and sharing, we create space for some new creative cycle to begin. Harvesting and sharing complete the cycle of creative flow.

So, as the combine rolls through the field, and the trucks rumble down the road on their way to the grain elevator, I’m asking myself: what, in me, is ready for harvest? And I’m open and ready to be surprised at the answer that bubbles up from within, because the wisdom in me often knows that things are ready to be shared before I think they are.

For any of you who share your gifts with others: What, in you, is ready to be harvested and shared?

Site Design by: Dawud Miracle, Business Coach & WordPress Websites · Powered by: Genesis · Hosted by: Website Habitat