The Mountains Are Calling...

"The mountains are calling and I must go." - John Muir

I have amazing news to share with you!  My soul-sister Becky of Creative Girl and I have been co-creating a very special retreat for mothers and daughters in July.  Our magical mountain location is so enchanting that you will not believe your eyes.  All the wondrous details will be announced when we open registration.

I feel so blessed to be collaborating with my dear friend in bringing you this extraordinary experience.  I am absolutely teary with joy.

In the meantime, you can subscribe to the Mighty Girl Art blog to get updates delivered fresh to your inbox.  We will also be announcing it on our facebook page.

Made so & rooted by love,
Wendy

Seeing

She stops mid-hike to put her hand on an enormous tree. An elder man with white hair and a weathered face walks up behind her and asks "what do you see in that tree?"

"Literally or metaphorically", she replies.

"Take your pick", he says.

"Cool...then I pick metaphor...I see time, I see fortitude...and I see the wisdom that comes with both", she says.

The man puts his hand on the tree and says, "I see it too...I see it too".

Ghost Story: Pulling All the Sky Over Her

"Each day just goes so fast
I turn around, it's past
You don't get time to hang a sign on me

Love me while you can
Or I'll get a plan

A lifetime is so short
A new one can't be bought" - George Harrison

 



She rests her head against the car window, her eyes tilted upward watching the clouds roll by.  He is talking about her sinus infection.  He speaks with authority about her body in the way one would talk to a vet about a pet.

"The pattern is that it usually digs in and just keeps gets worse", he says. 

"It's getting better  -  it is what it is - there is no pattern", she says.

His voice muffles as she listens instead to the voice of her heart.

"He cannot know a body that he has not seen or felt in ten years", her heart says.

Just then something catches her eye.

"Can you pull over please", she asks.

She hops out of the car and takes off toward the snowy embankment. The icy air stings her skin, but the ember of setting sun feels warm on her face.  She stands there staring at the expanse of a snow covered field.  With all her heart, she reaches for the blanket of sky and asks...

"Do you understand the difference between being looked at vs. being seen?"

"He doesn't know you", the sky says, "if he knew you, he would whisper secrets into the folds of your ear.  If he knew you, he would map the curves of your terrain.  If he knew you, he would fall in love with you every day because the colors of your tears, your laughter, your anger, your fears, your longings, your joys are as alive as every sunset.  If he knew you, he would memorize the lay of your land until he could find his way home in the dark". 

She thanked the sky. And just like that, the sky bent down and kissed her face.

She walked back to the car clutching her camera.

"The sky lost it's pink in like 30 seconds", he said.

He did not see the color in her sun kissed cheeks.