by Pausha Foley on August 25, 2010
The cedar grove is very quiet. Not silent – there are birds singing their songs, there is wind playing in the branches, little furry creatures scurrying through dry pine needles and pieces of bark, but all those sounds do not disturb the quiet stillness. Old trees, trees that stood there for hundreds of years, with their massive trunks scarred by burns and cuts – they are quiet, they communicate, they relate in the quiet, still space. They hold it and create it. This is how they are.
And when you sit under those trees the quiet sips into you and enfolds you, and you become part of it. You become the holder of the quiet space, though not a silent space. There are sounds, but there is no noise anymore, not inside. Trees speak to you, and you become like trees. Quiet. [click to continue…]
by Pausha Foley on August 6, 2010
My husband told me today that I have an incredible life.
“Pausha, you have an incredible life” he said, “you work very little, and when you do, your work is the making of pretty pictures. You have a husband who loves you unbearably much, and you are an inspiration to your friends. You live in the most beautiful place, right in nature, and you have an access to a cabin in the mountains, and you have a horse. Your life is incredible”.
“Life IS incredible, for everyone”, I said, “only people make too much noise to notice”.
“You make plenty of noise”, said my husband.
“Yes I do, outside”, I said, “but I don’t make much noise inside”.
by Pausha Foley on June 24, 2010
I met a man recently. A very interesting man, a man with whom I have some things in common, a man I can relate with in a way I can’t, quite, with my husband. I like this man. I thought today about organizing a project with him, working more closely with him. I shared the idea with Chris, he joked about a romance looming in my future … it was a joke … and it wasn’t.
I looked into how I feel about this man and I noticed that I didn’t know how I feel. There was a fuzzy, cloudy sort of feeling, an unconscious sort of feeling, much like how the body feels after a glass of wine. Not drunk, not out of control but just a little less in control, just a little less present, just a bit less clear.
As I looked into how I feel about this man I realized that in this fuzzy, cloudy space I can be pulled into all sorts of situations, whether I want to or not. There could be all sort of … pulls, seductions, reactions that were not a conscious choice, but that would happen on their own, that would pull me, push me, control me. [click to continue…]
The cedar grove is very quiet. Not silent – there are birds singing their songs, there is wind playing in the branches, little furry creatures scurrying through dry pine needles and pieces of bark, but all those sounds do not disturb the quiet stillness. Old trees, trees that stood there for hundreds of years, with their massive trunks scarred by burns and cuts – they are quiet, they communicate, they relate in the quiet, still space. They hold it and create it. This is how they are.
