Tell me about them. Not what you think about them - but how they are.
We so often find in other people what we expect to find. We so often see in other people what we expect to see. Really look today - what is true?
Pay attention to other people today.
Write your small stone about one of them.
Make it as specific an observation as possible. ~ Kaspalita
A well loved Ayn Rand novel sits on the table in front of her but it's sudoku that occupies her attention. She casually sips her espresso, looks up and engages her neighbor in idle chat, her accent betraying her intelligence. He is dismissive, unaware that she helped bring forth the first test tube baby.
Day 5: Keep going
Doing something everyday can be hard. It’s easy to lapse. I’ll just finish this email before I write my small stone. I just want to watch the end of this movie. I need to sort out the kids dinner…
Be kind to yourself. Make space to notice the world, and to write everyday.
Write it down.
Polish what you have written. ~Kaspalita
The Nursery The calves are rambunctious...five playmates jumping and galloping oblivious to their elders who patiently wait, chewing their cud. The afternoon sun luring the two sitters to nap while energizing the young ones.
Day 6: Peace through writing
We’re nearly at the end of this experience. How are you doing?
Putting pen to paper can help me cut through the forest of my own thoughts so that I can really see the world.
The Japanese word seijaku is usually translated simply as calmness, but perhaps a more accurate translation is ‘calmness in the midst of busyness’.
It’s easy to be calm when you’re on a beach watching the sunset, and listening to the waves gently lapping the shore. It’s less easy to find that space in the midst of our ordinary working lives. Creating a space for writing poetry in the middle of my busy life helps me to find some calm. Some seijaku.
Pay attention to world
What springs out at you today?
Write about it.
The hot water raw on my cold hands, the smell of lemon floats from the bubbles in the basin, the timer beeps to remind me to turn the chicken on the grill as the scent of cinnamon permeates through the cracked oven door. Hoping I don't burn the squash still I linger, my hands in the hot water.