I picked this photo to introduce today’s post to get your attention. Possibly to raise a question or questions. Part of my desire with contemplating “I AM” is to waken us to something we weren’t aware of before this moment. (I will explain what the photograph is at the end of the post.) But for now, I think it’s always helpful to look at definitions to dig deeper into a concept or idea, or just because I like to get to know a word better.

The word “am” is small, fairly easy to pronounce. It seems like a simple word to me, but it is a very important word. It is a form of the verb, be. This verb is one of the first ones we use as we develop language and learn to put sentences together.

The dog is black. The car is red. We use “is” as a connecting verb to describe nouns.

Here are few definitions of “be” as listed at http://www.m-w.com that stood out to me today:

1) to equal in meaning : have the same connotation as : symbolize

2) to have identity with : to constitute the same idea or object as

3) to have an objective existence : have reality or actuality : live

“Am” is the present tense, first person singular use of be. To use “I am” just by itself without an object is revealing in and of itself.

We could say, “I am” means that I am declaring my meaning, my identity and my existence. So when GOD used this phrase as a definitive name in answer to Moses, it follows for me that GOD is telling Moses (and us as the readers) something about GOD. Expanding the phrase “I am” with the above definitions, I see that GOD has meaning. GOD has an identity. GOD exists and is real, actual and living. (I know there are some who question GOD’s existence, but I am not addressing that question.) I am going on the premise of the usage and definition of the word “am” in context of the conversation between Moses and “I am who I am.”

And since other Scriptures state that humankind is made in the image of Moses’ GOD, I believe and do apply these same meanings to myself. I have meaning. I have an identity. I exist, in reality and actuality. I am alive. I live my life, because I am.

In the days ahead, I hope to shed more light on how making “I am” statements impacts how I live, and what I believe about myself, others and even GOD.

Back to the photo. Before I tell you what it is, I hope you will have enjoyed the color and the patterns and texture of the photograph first. You may think it’s a painting technique or you may have guessed that it is blackberry juice that left a pattern in a bowl after I defrosted and then ate the blackberries that used to be in the bowl. But the reason the photo exists is because I noticed the pattern, texture and hue, and so decided I could not pass by the opportunity to capture the image.

ADVENT{ure} PROMPT #4

Write an “I am” response of how you reacted to the above photo. Or next time you notice pattern, texture or color that captures your attention, take a photo of it. And if you like, write down why you wanted to capture the image.

They speak without a sound or word;
    their voice is never heard.
Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,
    and their words to all the world. (Psalm 19:3-4 NLT)

 

 

 

 

 

Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness . . . (Genesis 1:26 NRSV)

I am at a loss for words.

I am trying to tell you something important.

I am holding out over here. I am looking at the tree outside my window, while the wind blows violently against branches still full of reddish brown, withered leaves. The tree seems to be saying, “I’m not ready to let go.” I am not ready, either. I am not ready for Christmas or Advent or for winter.

I am trying to share my feelings and my thoughts about what it means to be made in the image of GOD, and right now words are failing me.

I am going to wait for now. I am going to be okay without explanation, definition or defense for the awe I sense in the presence of the one who says, “I am who I am” and who tells me it’s okay to be who I am.

Beginning a sentence with “I am” is a sacred act; confessional.

I am vulnerable.

ADVENT{ure} PROMPT # 3

Spend some time sitting with these images. If you feel like it, record your response in a journal with words or in a sketchbook with drawings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’”(Exodus 3:14 NRSV)

I have always been fascinated by the conversation recorded in Scriptures, where Moses asks God, “What if the people ask me what is your name?” And God replies in simplicity and with ambiguity. What kind of answer is “I am who I am”? I believe more and more that is a simple, yet meaning filled answer.

As I have been mulling over this conversation, I noticed that while is it powerful to “hear” God proclaim this, it also impacts the way I view my self. I will share more on this idea, as the month unfolds.

I love approaching life as a daily adventure, seeking new ways to enjoy what I have. As ADVENT approaches, I’d like to offer daily prompts to enrich this year’s ADVENT{ure} into the holidays and winter, and especially the remembrance of Christ’s birth.

ADVENT{ure} PROMPT #1:

Use the prompt, “I am …” each day this week. Do a free flowing journal entry for 2-5 minutes. (I have done this before, and it’s interesting to see what surfaces when you use the same prompt for several days in a row.)

I find collage making both soothing and revealing, so as time allows I will share some for your enjoyment and consideration.

ADVENT{ure} PROMPT #2

What do the following collages bring to mind, as you think about the statement: “I am who I am”?

Let’s invite the Great I AM to expand our understanding, to deepen our awe of creation, and to draw our attention to the burning questions in each of our souls this season.

…don’t try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go… (Proverbs 3:5 MSG)

What to do with all the ideas that parade through my mind? One day, I was asking myself that question because I often have more ideas than I can handle. I was reading a book, which I can’t remember the title of at the moment, but the author suggested to close your eyes and let the ideas be. When I closed my eyes, I imagined a grandmother sitting in her backyard on a summery day, while her grand-kids ran around the yard. She had her eyes closed. She could hear their voices; she noticed some were squealing and others were quiet, yet they were all having fun chasing each other around. She wasn’t yelling instructions to them or calling them over, she was just sitting with them.

A few days after that I was out at a local antique store, searching for treasure. As I came around to one of the last booths, there it was, a lawn chair just like the one the grandmother sat in, but better. It was a rocker. I knew it was for me. I had one of the guys that ran the store check to see if it still folded up, and it did! I asked him to carry it over to the check out, and rambled on about my vision of the grandmother in the yard, and how I knew the chair was meant for me.

I named it my idea chair. I took it to a local park that day to enjoy the shade on a sticky summer afternoon. Now, it sits in my family room on this cold late autumn day, reminding me that it’s okay to just sit with my ideas. I imagine the grandmother in the vision waiting for a grandchild (idea) to come over to her and converse. Possibly dream together about their future.

One of my ideas is to blog more often. I have missed it. I wrote a post today called “Perspective & Relationship” over at my souldare blog. I borrowed the title from a recent field trip to Laumeier Sculpture Park that I went on with my son and some of his friends. It wasn’t a school field trip, it was an outing that he designed for friends and family to enjoy his perspective on this beloved park. He made each of us a notebook with questions to contemplate and space to sketch.

He led us to his favorite sculpture in the park, and invited us to inspect it and walk around it for various perspectives. When we gathered back, we discussed the key questions he posed for the day regarding perspective and relationship.

The sculpture is called “Triangular Bridge Over Water” by Dan Graham, and was created the same year as Bradley’s birth, 1990. I had seen the object several times before, but this time I gained a fresh perspective on it. Being there with other creatives, observing it from all angles, expanded my appreciation. My past appreciation mainly came from Bradley’s admiration of it, but observing the art with others widened my relationship with the piece. I witnessed their interactions, and at one point, while I was wondering if anyone ever climbed underneath the sculpture, one of the other observers did just that. I had often walked over the bridge, but never noticed the path bypassing the bridge. As I rounded the bend and looked back at the bridge, a wave of nostalgia and grief over the loss of my childhood home overtook me. (I grew up in an A-frame house in rural New York state, which was lost in a fire after I had moved away.) The shape and setting of this object reminded me strongly of my formative years living in a woodsy setting.

My perspective this year has been enhanced by paying attention to the seasonal calendar. The actual changing of seasons does not happen with weather changes, but on certain dates, like the spring equinox and summer solstice. I often think that winter is my least favorite season, which is a harsh judgment, however this year I realized that my love for a season usually has to do with air temperature, not seasonal attributes. I am biased toward warm summer days. This year, I have determined to embrace and enjoy each season to its fullest. When summer gave over to autumn on Sunday, September 23rd, my soul was transported into one of the most heightened experiences of a season to date. I have watched the leaves change colors and documented their shape on paper, I have been outdoors in all extremes of temperatures. Autumn can be balmy or down right freezing cold.

My husband and I navigated part of the Cumberland River for our October anniversary, witnessing the curves and current of life outside of our suburban existence. I have hiked in the Ozarks witnessing the beauty and grandeur of sunlit springs and crunchy leaves carpeting the forest pathways.

Often this time of year, I experience the winter blues because it’s colder or the holiday season presses me to overindulge. As December unfolds, I will little by little transform our home for the holidays, but for now I want to explore what it would look like to observe autumn right up until Friday, December 21st, which marks the entrance of winter. It’s interesting how a perspective shift impacts the way I experience a relationship. I look forward to sharing an autumnal perspective, as we enter Advent this year. Usually I think of Advent as a winter experience, but actually it bridges from late fall into early winter.

I will leave you with the five key questions from the field trip. As you transition from season to season, may they inform your perspective and relationship with yourself, others and the objects of Nature and Art that we enjoy from time to time.

What it is my perspective toward ______________?

What is my relationship to __________________?

What other media does this remind me of?

What other experiences does this remind me of?

How does ____________’s physical context affect how I view it?

(Questions written by Bradley Rohlf. Used with permission. 2018.)

” . . . in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.” (Isaiah 30:15 NIV)

Intution Diaries: Cumberland River

October 26, 2018

Shute’s Access anchorage

As I’ve mentioned before, while I’m preparing and dreaming about one of our boat adventures, I have lots of intentions and expectations. I learned recently that the degree of my disappointment can be proportionately measured by the difference between my understanding of reality and my expectations of a situation.

My disposition this trip seems to be tracking with the weather. The first few days were sunny and warm during the day, and even with chilly mornings and evenings, I was settling into a cozy mood. But then Gallatin happened. We arrived with the first rain of our trip. I was looking forward to a hot shower, and a break from making dinner. Both of which, I did get. We are traveling during off season, and we expect less people around, and we actually enjoy the solitude.

I guess after four days of quiet, and little more than friendly waves from the bass boaters, I was looking for a warm welcome. The dock staff weren’t there when we pulled up. That’s to be expected, it’s off season. We call, and they send some folks down. I expected them to say hello and ask about our trip, but mostly I had to ask them questions and start conversation. Ok, so their southern hospitality was kind of chilly. Maybe we’d meet some friendly folks at the restaurant.

Around 5pm, we walked over to Awedaddy’s restaurant, which is nestled right next to the marina. A chef looking person was outside talking on his cell phone, and we couldn’t really figure out the entrance. Some people were sitting in an outdoor bar area, but it was chilly and I wanted to eat indoors. A staff person inside saw us searching for the entrance and directed us to the bar area. No one at the bar area acknowledged us, and we didn’t see a hostess. So we went inside and let them know we still couldn’t figure out how to be served. We met the hostess finally, and I thought she said sit anywhere outside, so I grumpily picked a table by the outdoor heater. Les intervened, and told me they did say we could eat inside; so we moved. And we had a nice dinner, and I tried to be friendlier, but all said, I was a little disappointed.

We went back to the boat, and each of us got on our computers. Our reading together sidelined for the evening. We went to bed, dreaming of our next destination, an anchorage between Gallatin and Nashville.

Sleep was interrupted by a loud, pounding bass line from the neighboring dock. Apparently the owners of the boat, expecting it to be off-season, didn’t think they would be disturbing anyone else on the docks at two in the morning. The noise lasted an hour or so, and since no staff were around, we really didn’t have any recourse to ask them to tone it down. We did get back to sleep, and woke to a rainy day. I was getting ready to be REALLY grumpy, when I decided why not take a walk in the rain. Surprisngly, walking helped my expectations for the day. I decided that after lunch, when we left the marina, I would have a crafty day making collages and enjoying the quiet ride down the river.

We got to our anchorage and let the dog do her thing on shore, before anchoring out for the night. We grilled turkey burgers in the spitting rain and I fried some more apples. I’m glad to report, we escaped the noise and slept well. I was excited to head to Nashville the next day. My expectations were high.

October 27, 2018

Nashville Dock

We left our anchorage after breakfast, and one last shore break for Kokomo. It was a gray day, but I was on my way to Music City. I had booked a tour at the Hatch Show Print shop. I located a Jerry’s Artarama near where we planned to dock. Les and I planned to eat out and maybe catch a blues band in downtown.

Our morning went smoothly, as we headed down river toward the Old Hickory lock. We called in and the lock master told us it would be twenty minutes to fill the tank, and then he’d give us the green light to come in and be on our way. Les drove us in after the gates opened. On the gate a blue heron stood sentinel, welcoming us into the tank. We caught the floating bollard on our first try, and I took photos and video, while we floated down. We entered the section of the river called Cheatham Lake. We had 20 miles or so to go until Nashville.

Late morning, the clouds were breaking some, and my mood was lifting.

And then we encountered some barge traffic. The Cumberland is much narrower than the Mississippi, so navigating around barges takes more concentration. Thankfully Les can concentrate, even when his wife is unreasonably freaking out about the closeness of the barge, which happens to beep at us five times. (Or maybe the barge captain was letting the kayakers know that he was coming down, because he had already communicated with Les that he was going to pass us, and made all the arrangements to do so.) It just seemed too close for comfort, and then another barge was coming up river towards us at the same time. I was ramping up into hysteria, and Les remained calm and kept boating, while I gave unsolicited suggestions of where to drive the boat and how fast to go.

I just wanted to get to our reserved spot at the Nashville dock, which we did. And we didn’t even come close to being smooshed by a barge, just rocked.

Our reservation for the night was along a floating dock right below the pedestrian bridge that goes from the Titans stadium to downtown. The view was amazing! And once we got settled, even though the boated rocked quite a bit whenever a tow cruised past, it was shaping up to be a fun time exploring the city.

Except, I had some expectations tied to my intentions. And I still wasn’t quite relaxing like a person on a really nice, cool vacation. Reality is that at this point on a ten-day boat excursion, we start thinking about stuff we need to do when we get home. We think about where are we heading next, do we have enough food left and clean clothes? And I begin to grieve a little bit because I know the fun and adventure will come to an end.

That morning, a friend posted the prompt: “Note to self:”

I laugh now, but I wrote this in response: “Note to self: You’re on vacation! Relax, already!”

I had to return to that note off and on throughout our stay in Nashville. I was longing for crowds and finding new places to explore. Les was figuring out where we were, and how we were going to get to dinner and take care of the dog and pay our bills back home. (Just because we’re on the boat and on vacation doesn’t mean all responsibility falls to the side, no matter how much I’d like to make that my alternate reality.) So back to relaxing.

I walked over to the Hatch Print Show shop, and learn the history of this company that has been hand carving and setting letters and images, and then printing posters since 1879. (Until recently it was a family owned and run business, now they are partners with Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.) I was in my artsy happy zone.

I bought some mementos and headed back to the boat. After some adjusting of expectations, Les walked with me to the art store and a nice restaurant that he found on the east side of Nashville. We had decided we’d go over to downtown for music after dinner, and after checking on the dog.

It was the Saturday before Halloween, and everything just seemed a bit over the top for our tastes. We saw the neon lights, we crushed through the crowds, spotted the Ryman theater, the cowboy boot stores, heard the music blaring from the honky tonks. About two blocks in, we looked at each other and agreed let’s go back to the boat. I saw GooGoo’s ice cream place on our way back, but they had just closed. Les suggested we walk over to the convenience store on the other side of the river. I got ice cream. He bought a bar of soap. We stood in line with ghouls, ghosts and all kinds of other wayfarers in the land. As we strolled back to the boat, we just marveled at how out of our league we really were. No wonder they call this place “Crazy Town.” I snapped some awesome photos of the river lit up at night, and then we called it a night at 8pm. Just above the boat docks, a wedding party was celebrating with 80s music. Their tunes sang us to sleep far into the night.

 

October 28,2018

Harpeth River anchorage

This morning we woke up to quiet. As we walked across the bridge back into downtown to have breakfast, we heard the birds singing, as the sun rose over the river tinting it pink. I had donned my new T-shirt that reads “Do Not Disturb” for the day. I had Les take my picture, pretending I was an up and coming C&W star. We ate at The Diner. People were dressed up like cats, security guards and chefs. After a while we realized they were the wait staff just getting off their evening shift. We enjoyed people watching, drinking our coffee and eating our hearty breakfasts. We took some of the breakfast back to the boat to save for lunch.

We both agreed we were done with Nashville, so before the barges started their shift. We backed off the dock and headed down river once again, with three full days of vacation still ahead.

Our intentions will most likely not meet all our expectations, but reality is that we are blessed beyond compare.

And our anchorage tonight is remote, beautiful and quiet.