Birds Fly in the Rain

Birds Fly in the Rain

Birds fly in the rain. Their joy is contagious. Outside my window, one enjoys a meal at a bird feeder as he rests for a moment. Another perches on the wrought iron fence as his coat deflects the torrential downpour. They sing in the rain and we can too.

It is from here, I share with you the positivity I attempt to glean from this wet weather day. “Free writing, in the rain, how delightful! My thoughts pour over me, my feelings flow, and the words sing.”

We can view what comes our way from any perspective our attitude directs. Grateful for the lessons of life that wash over us, appreciating that they came into our life for a reason, shifts our mood. We may even feel purified by a unexpected deluge.

Surrender to a melancholy state of mind is not always the answer. And gloom can be brightened if we look for joy. Appreciation often points the way.

Light still shines in the rain, as the dance and song of the birds enlighten my day. I delight in observing them, knowing everything is growing, while they move the seeds from one place to another and propagate the earth’s bounty as the sky nourishes the movement.

Our work still needs to be done in the rain. The storms that come our way are only as insurmountable as we make them. The rain can drench us if we absorb it or it can cleanse and teach us how to grow.

Today I’m getting my feet wet and learning how to fly in the rain.

© Erika K Rothwell

*I have added in photo description, but also want to credit June Jurcak for the beautiful image, photographed from her greeting card.

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Embrace You

Embrace You

“Write about what really interests you, whether it is real things or imaginary things, and nothing else.” C.S. Lewis

The curse of a creative style. Or is it? This is my style. I accept me, so I need to learn within my style, not force myself into an uncomfortable position, where all I can think about is an escape.

I love what I do. I do what I love. And my wide-angle approach, allows me to see where I want to focus my energy for the day. I feel refreshed, ready to take action because I choose to work within my style.

This is what I refer to as fine tuning a creative living. Find your style. Embrace it. Use it as the support system and foundation to create authentically. Create from where you are, from who you are and from why you are.

Self-defeatist behavior will not support you. It will bury you in negativity, sucking your last breath of enthusiasm for life, and your creativity will die along with it.

Revive your soul, listen to your heart, use your mind and embrace your unique style.

©Erika K Rothwell

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Writers Create – Air Plants Breathe

Writers Create – Air Plants Breathe

I was where you are once, staring at a blank piece of paper or an empty screen.  If I were to be completely transparent, I would admit to still being there at times.  So I want you to know what I have discovered while examining the life of a tiny air plant.

Fascination with the botanical world incites my inspiration and motivates my writing this morning.  My air plant needed water today.  Following instructions given to me, I completely immersed it in water for its bi-monthly drink of water.

This amazing little plant uses air to thrive, not soil, as so many other plants do.  I feel this plant.  Often, I attempt to put down roots in projects that focus my efforts. Yet whims and fancies pull my attention in other directions, forcing me to recognize my obvious need for air and authenticity more than soil.  This airy approach to life satisfies my soul and allows me to thrive.  However, a deep ingestion of life-giving water and refreshment is needed to ground my flittering thought process.

Taking the form of deep reflection, my time is spent turning inward, absorbing the results of a meditative process as it nourishes my dreams.  The very dreams that propel projects forward in a style that I have come to accept in myself.

While I am not advocating this fragmented approach to production, I am supportive of you finding your own creative style and learning to work within your set of needs.  Your story is most likely quite different than me, so it goes to say the structure of your day will look slightly different as well.

The desire for connection eventually culminates in creative action.  To spend our days in the sweet spot of inspiration while only drafting artistic expression remains a stagnant dream that will eventually dry up.  It is not enough to get a creative job done. We must share our gifts with others.

So if you are like me, find your sweet spot and hydrate.  But at the point of saturation, take a step forward and breathe the air, put your pen to paper and simply write.

Connect and Create.

©Erika K Rothwell

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Jewels of Nature

Jewels of Nature

I love jewels. Not jewels of luxurious and wealthy means, rather the magnificence presented in tiny morsels each morning in simplistic excellence and elegance. Nature’s jewels exist for me as they appear in a raindrop, a perfectly shaped bud of a flower, a molded stone discovered in a riverbed or an iridescent shell plucked from the seashore.

Adorning myself with the inspiration of nature on a daily basis brings me closer to answers I seek. My thoughts arrange themselves in a pattern of words, formed by simply gazing deeply into the heart of each stunning treasure, by connecting to each unique design of powerful creation.

And so, each day I wake and explore a kingdom of unimaginable and glorious riches as I behold diamonds glistening on the surface of the water and emerald blades of grass clothed with fringes of iridescent baubles on their surface.

Wrapped luxuriantly in the chiffon of wispy clouds, as the spotlight of dawn showcases the earth’s museum of artistic treasures, I am grateful to visit without an admission fee once again.

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Stolen Beauty – Pain Exposed

Stolen Beauty – Pain Exposed

Many of us lost a dear young person today in a tragic accident. Dedicated to her…she was beautiful inside and out.

Hope shriveled and distraught

Staring  

 Gaping hole devouring a sunny day  

Helpless surrender to a cruel joke

 Heart of beauty stolen to fuel the sun above

Infectious grief seeks to be expelled

Cascading waters from sadness flow 

Wash away confusion of tragedy

In death’s revolt

Left only with a memory of her sunshine

Her smile lights the darkness of hollow despair

No fight to win  

Understanding with faith  

Love gathers beneath the clouds

Praise the entrance through heavenly gates

With tears of years 

Her hand no longer to hold

Forced to accept a plan not our own

Make peace my friends

With a thief

Unfairness cannot be explained

©Erika K Rothwell

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