No. 11 ~ Play as Rest
“Perhaps, stillness is one way to rest. Perhaps, play is another.
As a children’s therapist, I know the importance of play. And I know how often play is forgotten in an adult life. Play is the child’s way of making sense of their world. Like the adult with journal in hand who sits in a quiet café; is the child who hunches over the doll’s house, chattering loudly to tiny figures.
Just as when I was a child, I play best when no one is watching. In a secret place, I take a deep breath and set my spirit free; relinquishing my grasp on reality; entering into creativity. As with rest, it is not about result. No gold stars, no pay cheques, no rankings.
Here are the workings of my play. The processes remain magical, the photograph reveals the outcome. Amidst a peaceful walk with my sleeping baby, I ducked under trees and gathered. A week later, I found remnants in my pocket and the blackberries had shrunk dry. Maybe I could print a pretty picture? I opened my paints and played with creation; adding pigment, printing, arranging. And I saw a face, smiling at me.
I like to think that on the seventh day when God rested, he also played; with the creatures and plants and landscape he had created. I like to think he had fun, made nonsense and played. “Play keeps us vital and alive. It gives us an enthusiasm for life that is irreplaceable. Without it, life just doesn’t taste good.”
Artist: Kirsty Dean
No. 10 ~ REST • “God writes the music of our lives. But be it ours to learn the tune. There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear.”
- John Ruskin
A rest is an interval of silence within a piece of music. I have come to know the necessity of these intervals to provide refreshment and re-vision. Without them the tune of our lives would be heavy and chaotic. Praise God for the promise of him working in our waiting and composing in our resting. Artist: Stacey Christensen @staceyhannec
Sandwood Bay and the rocky stack just of the cliffs called Am Buachaille, a 240-foot sea stack the colour of dried blood, that is separated from the shore by a deep channel. Am Buachaille is Gaelic for The Herdsman, a name bestowed, presumably, on account of the waves that break white around its foot like a frolicking flock of sheep.
More usually the preserve of seabirds, the stack is a skyscraper for skuas, but it does attract climbers from time to time. It was first climbed in 1967 by Tom Patey, Ian Clough and John Cleare. [snippet of text from Scotsman.com] #sandwoodbay#sutherland#AmBuachaille#beach#sea#sunset#s_s_s
So some fool (me) forgot to bring a card reader with me so I can't get my photos off the camera until I return home from Whitby. I've still got lots from Cumbria to post though to keep me going. This one is from Coniston Fell ☺
Had Finn not demanded it, there is no way I’d have stepped out this morning. Too drizzly, too dank. But as it was, we slid and stomped our way through the fields. The landscape is back to vibrant green after the straw that was the summer. But the trees are still in-leaf and there is very little sign of Autumn outside of the usual October gusts and drizzle. Finn managed a chew on a couple of old crispy pheasant legs, which made it more than worth his while. We both came home a-frizzle and as I do each winter, I made a note to self, to grow out my fringe.