Month: January 2013

Small Stones: Days Two and Three

/ Gerry Wilson / 2 Comments

The best intentions often . . . Well, you know about that.

On January 10, I committed to a Mindful Writing Challenge, posted that day, and immediately fell behind. But I had one more scene of the novel to re-visit, I’m revising the synopsis, I’m reading manuscripts for a workshop coming up in a little more than a week, I—

All these excuses, this busyness. All the more reason to take a moment and focus on something small or ordinary or extraordinary, like a sleeping cat on Day Two:

Old cat sleeping behind my head on the back of the couch, mewing in his sleep like a kitten, moving his mouth like he’s smacking his lips. What does he dream?

Oliver, awake

Oliver, awake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And for Day Three, another haiku:

After today’s storms,

blue sky and wind-driven clouds.

Radiant sunset.

Variation, winter sunset

Variation, winter sunset

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks to Kaspa and Fiona at Writing Our Way Home for this challenge. I shall try to do better!

 

Photo Challenge: Illumination

/ Gerry Wilson / 8 Comments

Late yesterday afternoon, after a day of heavy rain and wind and storms, the skies finally cleared. Out my kitchen window, I watched the clouds scudding by, still wind-driven, and the glow of sunset through the bare trees. I couldn’t resist. I went outside to take a few shots.

This morning, the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge appeared in my mailbox. The theme? Illumination!

So here’s a photo of a winter sunset, Mississippi style, after a day of turbulent weather.

Winter sunset, bare trees
Winter sunset

“Small Stones”: Meditative Writing to Start the New Year

/ Gerry Wilson / 11 Comments

A New Year discovery this morning—and yes, I know it’s not Monday Discovery day, and it’s already the tenth of January:

jan13largeKaspa & Fiona at Writing Our Way Home have launched their third Mindful Writing Challenge (previously known as the River of Stones) during January 2013. It seems a fine opportunity to quiet the mind at the beginning of each day, before the writing work or the housework or the errands or the other distractions of the day take over.

Kaspa and Fiona call these bits of writing small stones, which they define as “a very short piece of writing that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment.”

What a lovely idea, to stop and capture a moment, observe it for all it’s worth, and write about it. So I’ll try writing a small stone a day for the rest of January and post them here.

For January 10, there’s this:

Distant thunder. Rain sheens the deck, scattered with the last brown leaves.

Maybe this could be a haiku? That’s what “small stones” remind me of.

Distant thunder rolls.

Water sheens the deck, scattered

With the last brown leaves.

So here’s to mindfulness, always good for the writer’s eye.

How do you enter writing mode? A cup of good strong coffee? A few minutes of meditation? Tell me how you prepare your mind for the task at hand.