Afternoon Day Dreams- In beauty may I walk

click on photos for light box slide show

And more from behind the gardener's secret gate - July 10, 2013

My visitor through the textured glass of the deck wall.  She loves my offering of Crocosmia which is laid out just for the anticipation of her(his)visit and is more a whirring drop in and out, thank you very much but must fly-so don't blink!!

 

  This poor old porch of mine is transformed

in your body is the garden of flowers
Take your seat on the petals of the rose (lotus)
and there gaze on the infinite beauty.

Kabir, poet and mystic (1440-1518)

Once upon a time at the very bottom of the garden where the wild spirits came to play........

My garden Columbine transformed.

“There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it. And they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way. One bitter day, when they seek it and cannot find it, they realize what they have lost; and that is the tragedy of life. On that day the gates of Eden are shut behind them and the age of gold is over. Henceforth they must dwell in the common light of common day. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again; and blessed are they above mortals. They, and only they, can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles. The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.”  L.M. Montgomery


“For me the world is weird because it is stupendous, awesome, mysterious, unfathomable; my interest has been to convince you that you must assume responsibility for being here, in this marvelous world, in this marvelous desert, in this marvelous time. I want to convince you that you must learn to make every act count, since you are going to be here for only a short while, in fact, too short for witnessing all the marvels of it.” C. Castaneda

Arwen's path
"nothing is ever lost to you if you can remember it"
 

Buttercup afternoon

   

 

Finalmente Primavera

The honeybee snuggles up to the wild rose and all's right with the world.





 

 




This prayer is part of a nine-day Navajo ritual called the Night Chant.

In beauty may I walk.
All day long may I walk.
Through the returning seasons may I walk.
Beautifully will I possess again.
Beautifully birds . . .
Beautifully joyful birds
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk.
With dew about my feet may I walk.


A night in the forest

With beauty may I walk.
With beauty before me, may I walk.
With beauty behind me, may I walk.
With beauty above me, may I walk.
With beauty below me, may I walk.
With beauty all around me, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.


A Navajo Indian Prayer of the Second Day of the Night Chant (anonymous) 
dedicated to my nephew, David who graduated this June and in honour of his own connection to the first nations.

These singers from the Similkameen Valley blessed the graduates.



castles of Victoria

 

 

the garden gate at twilight

 

 

From the Sorcerer's Garden

You catch a glimpse of this beautiful cove walking through the forest trails at Becher Bay on the island.  Usually our north west oceans are a bit murky but sometimes in the sheltered areas the water can be a tropical turquoise and transparent.
It was late afternoon (as it always is in fairieland) and the dappled "windfall light" was shining through the foliage.



And in the stillness of early evening you can hear the stars coming out





 Spring birthing.  A mystical and sensual alchemy in the reproduction of the flowers.  Pistil and stamens enflamed, yin and yang , male and female enfolded in the delicate but protective petals of a single swaying rhododendron blossom in the dance of life.

 




                                   

Radiant fantasy
The peacocks are in fine form at Beacon Hill as they vie for the affection of pea hens. Feathers shudder in brilliance along with a flamboyant and bragging vocal proclamation, not exactly harmonious to our ears but a fine introduction in the unabashed peacock world.

To the memory of a friend, Jacquie who worked hard to preserve this beautiful park. We met in friendship to honour her yesterday and the day was glorious. I was happy to catch this image with a little camera I had in my bag. She would have loved it. Rest in peace and light my friend.

Moon rise

 

I must give a heads up here for a book I am reading by Russ Harris, called "The Happiness Trap"(link below). I am adding this to my library alongside Kabat - Zinn, Eckhart Tolle and Pema Chodron.  Pema chodron says to be truly alive and awake is to be constantly thrown out of the nest.

Harris says the same thing only he lays it out as a therapy called ACT, acceptance, commitment therapy. He tells us not to avoid pain nor replace painful thoughts with happy ones but rather to accept both and experience both in grace. We grasp for happiness and try to hang on to it not realizing that the very nature of life is change, "the universe constantly rearranging itself. " There are fleeting moments of happiness to embrace and let go and moments of sorrow and pain which also pass. 
It's taken long to get this far and I still have a long way to go and much to learn and I suppose as Carlos Castenada wrote in Journey to Ixtlan about never being able to go home to Ixtlan, nor will I ever arrive in "Ixtlan"- but the journey is everything!!

“The aim is to balance the terror of being alive with the wonder of being alive.” C. Castaneda

http://www.thehappinesstrap.com/