Tag Archives: travel

Sunshine for Your Sunday

Humanity’s Healer

Did you know? The heartbeats of Earth and humanity are intertwined. The Earth’s heartbeat (called the Schumann Resonance) is measurable, and studies suggest that when we are out of sync with it, we are not in a prime state of health.

Synthetic technologies such as cell phones and computers play a big part in this disconnect.

Spend time in nature and get to know the Earth’s heartbeat. Whether you realize it or not, she is calling you back to your organic essence. Nature will unconditionally heal you.

Inspirational nature quotes by Henry David Thoreau:

“We need the tonic of wildness…At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.”

“Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.”

“Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself.”

“Wildness is the preservation of the World.”

“He who hears the rippling of rivers in these degenerate days will not utterly despair.”

“I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in Nature, which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright.

Just for the Fun of It

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As eggs are historically a universal symbol of fertility and rebirth, it was a natural evolution that they’d factor into springtime rites and the celebration of Easter. When my friend V invited me to decorate some eggs this past week, she was flabbergasted when I told her that I’ve never before indulged in egg decorating or Easter egg hunts!

At least I CAN say that I’ve eaten my fair share of chocolate Easter eggs over the years. I am extremely experienced and adept in this area! 🙂 According to this very interesting article about the history of Easter eggs, the first English chocolate egg was sold by Fry’s in 1873: Why do We Eat Eggs at Easter? Chocolate is my kind of egg!

Going into this egg decorating event, I was pretty confident about my abilities. I have considerable history as a fine artist, so I’m therefore capable of very detailed and accurate drawing. I was in the mood for some sparkle, so I was elated when I found some tube sparkle applicators in various rich colors. The applicator tips are fine, so I pictured drawing intricate shimmering designs on the eggs I purchased from The Girl with Green Eggs (last Tuesday’s post).

Wrong! This egg decorating exercise was humbling in so many ways. I did not know the characteristics of any the involved mediums (the eggs as canvas, the dye, the sparkle goo), had not anticipated the messiness factor (and therefore cross-contamination of color), the clumsiness factor (trying to hold on to a slippery egg), or the prolonged drying time required for the sparkle goo. All in all, it quickly began disintegrating into an exercise in frustration.

I was forced to step back and ask myself why. I realized that my end goal of achieving some respectably beautiful eggs (the results) had quickly over-taken my supposed primary goal of having some fun (the process). Once again the “perform and produce” serious side of me had beaten down the part that just wanted to have some fun for a change. Once I realized this and let go of expectation of any certain result, I was able to play.

I stopped fighting against what I viewed as limitations, which opened the door to possibilities. I realized I was going get something very different from what I had pictured in my mind, and that was OKAY. Between the steps involved, the messiness, and the drying factor, it took an excruciating amount of time to produce a few decorated eggs.

But I love them! My Easter eggs represent some lessons in preparedness, expectation, flexibility, creativity, experimentation, patience, and simply allowing myself to relax and have some fun with friends. The eggs are beautiful in a way that I totally had not expected.

That’s a lot of takeaway from one egg decorating afternoon, and I’m grateful for all of it. Thank you, V!

To my readers who celebrate Easter, I’m wishing you a beautiful weekend. As it unfolds, try to make room for the unexpected. You may be astonished at what comes to you when you do!

The Girl with Green Eggs

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A few days ago at dusk, I noticed a girl selling eggs at the car park exit of our nearby department store. She was alone on the sidewalk in the dark, doing her duty on behalf of her family to bring home some money. I have occasionally noticed a grown woman there in the daytime too, doing the same. Her mother? I suppose so…

I had plenty of eggs at home, and really didn’t need more in that moment. However, something about a lone girl selling eggs in the dark got to me. In First World countries, at 6 pm many (although admittedly not all) children her age would be doing homework, watching TV or playing video games, and eating a solid dinner with no worries. This girl was not just selling eggs. At the age of (I estimate) ten, she was also carrying the family worry of having food and shelter for another day.

I stopped to ask her in Spanish how much for a flat of eggs. As I got closer, I noticed they were not common brown. They were a beautiful light green-turquoise, a color faintly reminiscent of a robin’s egg. Sweet childhood memories of springtime swiftly took hold of me as well. When I was a girl her age, I absolutely loved the April return of the robins to our backyard. Inevitably each year I would find a broken egg that had fallen from a nest, and I would always feel a pang for the baby robin that would never fly. Seeing this girl’s turquoise eggs was a tug from home.

She quoted a price, which was at least twice the normal for common brown. I asked her why. Her reply was rapid and my Spanish is not perfect, but I definitely picked out “verde”, so it was because they were green. I have never seen this color sold in the big stores, so I could easily surmise that verde is somewhat exotic. Still, I was reluctant…

After living for some years in Asia and South America, I have grown weary of at times being over charged compared to what the locals pay. My tolerance for it depends on both my need and mood. Also that particular evening, I had very little money left in my purse. I was down to a few coins.

I started to walk away, telling her “another time”. She was very gracious in her disappointment, with none of the whining or cajoling I have seen in other children required to sell things by their parents in poorer countries. Only a few steps into my retreat, I stopped and turned back. I asked her how much it would be for a dozen, so she quoted a price. I bought ten that were already bagged. I received a warm, sincere smile and “gracias” in return from the girl.

Upon arriving home, I did a quick internet search on egg colors. A blue or green egg is no more nutritious than white or brown. Various egg colors are due to breed of the chicken, and how the egg shell forms during fertilization and maturation. So I was not getting better eating value from a green egg, but I certainly was receiving the emotional payback of happy memories, plus helping a girl to support her family in the present.

You may notice in the pic that there are some pinholes at the end of the eggs. I have blown out the innards to eat, and the shells await decorating for Easter, tomorrow with a good friend and her mother. My own mother passed away some years ago, and I miss my family. So our little group of three women will engage in some warm camaraderie, with very likely some laughter and memories of Easters past.

I will come home with some decorated eggs that will beautify our sun room table. (I will be sure to post a pic of them this Easter weekend!) Needless to say, I am a fortunate woman and I know it. Those eggs will remind me of beauty that still exists in a world that lately too often feels ugly, and my own abundance when many struggle for the basics of living.

Most of all, they will remind me of the girl with the green eggs and her smile. I pray that her path in life will be a good one. Her fortune does not rest in my hands every day, but at least for a moment in time, a bit of it did.

Made to Fly

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I had a friend
who wanted to
dissect me,
so they could
determine
how to slot me.

I have worked
hard in this life
to de-categorize
and free myself,
why would I
agree to this?

The younger me
would yield
to stay likeable,
but the older me
stands firm
for self-respect.

I’m not an ant
made only
for hard work,
I discovered
I have wings,
I’m a butterfly.

Thanks for
the lesson,
I cannot allow
you to pluck
my wings and
pin me down.

I will not deny
that I am
a butterfly,
real friends
let friends fly,
and so must I.