January | 2012 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

Small Stone: Stones and Shells

I grew up in the Willamette Valley, just a few hours from the Oregon Coast. I spent many hours walking the long, flat, sandy beaches of Lincoln County, leaving a string of foot prints, listening to the waves, staring out at the water, and looking for treasures.

Now that I live in Colorado, I still make it back once a year by myself, and every other year, Eric and I take the dogs and rent a house in Waldport (“Where the Forest Meets the Sea”), usually staying for about a month–this will be one of those summers. Being at the ocean, that specific coastline and place, is medicine to me. I feel whole and at ease, closer to the Divine, at peace. Sadly, the climate (rainy, gray, cold) wears me down after too long, and I can’t live there, but must visit regularly, and I carry that place inside of me when I am away from it.

I have jars and bowls and piles, collections all over my house, of agates, rocks, and shells I’ve found over the years. When I was looking for a book this morning, I noticed a set of three lotus bowls filled with rocks, agates, two sandollars the size of dimes, and various broken, smooth bits of shells. They sit next to a picture of one of my favorite beaches, Cape Lookout. It’s further up the coast than we normally travel, a three mile hike through the forest that ends in a small, private curve of beach. If you hike the other way, up and out to the point instead of down, you can watch the migrating whales.

The memory of the beach, the ocean, the waves, the peace of that place, brings joy and stillness to me, even as my body stands in my living room in landlocked Colorado, with its blue skies, river, and mountains. The truth is, both places are home.

Small Stone: 2012 Reading List

As part of my resolve for this year, I made a list of all the books I wanted to read. Some of the books I’ve read before, even twice, but many are new to me. The list is only non-fiction, because fiction for me is pure pleasure and I want to leave those textual choices up to chance, desire, whimsy. As for non-fiction, there is a plan.

I collected and organized the books on a shelf in my studio. It seemed auspicious that they so neatly and perfectly fit on a single shelf. All but one (The War of Art) are ones I already owned before making the list.

As I was writing this morning, I thought of one that I wanted to look at, turned to view the shelf, and felt a wave of open-hearted appreciation and joy. Look at all the great things I get to read, to learn about, to contemplate! For the hundredth time, I think “this is going to be a really good year.”