Par vieglumiņu un dziesmas spēku....
On lightness and the power of song....
May your life be like a beautiful song
Which accompanies you on your farthest journeys.
May you not stumble in the most forceful rapids
But cross them with a smile.
Lai notiek tā!
Šodien ļoti domāju par to, ka es nevaru nepārtraukti būt saviem bērniem klāt, lai aizsargātu viņus šajā dzīvē (un ja labi padomāju, es arī tā nemaz negribu viņus no pilnīgi visa aizsargāt, tomēr tas ir katras mammas instinkts - vēlme satīt savus bērnus burbuļplēvē un mūzīgi turēt viņus cieši jo cieši, droši jo droši). Man laba draudzene reiz izstāstija, ka dienās, kad viņa jūtas īpāši noraizējusies par savu dēlu, viņa savās domās ietin viņu baltajā gaismā. Šīs domas ir vienlaikus spēcinošas un mierinošas, un mūsu domās bez šaubām ietekmē mūsu realitāti.
Šīs dainas tikai nedaudz saistās ar manām domām par bērna pasargāšanu, bet tās mums atgādina rotāļīgo un tomēr stipro saistību starp balto gaismu un mums pašiem - no saules, mēneša un zvaigznēm.
These words of strength are only vaguely connected to this sentiment of protecting our children, but remind us of the playful yet powerful connection white light has in our lives - from the sun, moon and stars.
The morning star is tossing about
Little diamond stars,
The sun, amusing herself to fill the time,
Is pouring down beams of good fortune.
I collected the signs
Sent by the sun,
Here a cross, there a cross,
In the middle a white key.
Lai notiek tā!
Ieejot gada tumšākajā daļā, mēs bez šaubām dziļāk novērtējam saulīti un pārdomājam kā mūsu iekšējā pasaule atspoguļo ārējo un arī pretēji. Mūsu iekšējā pasaule ir vienmēr tas ar kuru varam darboties un mums ir spēja tieši šajā vidē ievest lielāku līdzsavru savās dzīvēs.
Amērikas vidienē piedzīvo četrus izteiktus gada laikus, bet Latvijā gada laiki ir vēl pat ievērojamākas galējības. Te es nedomāju par karstumu un aukstumu - Viskonsīnas ziemās temperatūra iekrīt tik pat dziļi mīnusos un jutos pietiekoši gatava Latvijas salīgām ziemām, bet saules gaisma ir pavisam cits stāsts. Latvijā pašās īsākajās dienās ap Ziemasvvētkiem saule tikai aust pēc 9iem un noriet pirms 16iem, tā tad ceļš uz/no skolas/darba ir pilnā tumsā un pusdienlaikā skaidrā dienā, saule knapi paceļas pāri jumtiem un koku galotnēm. Citos vardos gan gaismas kvantitāte gan kvalitāte ir pārsteidzoši niecīga. Protam var par to kreņķēties, jeb var izveidot jaunas veidas saskatīt, izjust un piedzīvot ārējo pasauli un kā prasmīgi radīt pats savu iekšējo gaismu.
Bez šaubām ir mierinoši un omulīgi, kad saulīte mums dod savu gaismu, bet ja mēs esam pietiekoši uzmanīgi pievērsuši tam savu uzmanību, šis ir tas gada laiks kad ieraujam dziļu elpu, paņemam stafeti no saulītes un sejokam viņas piemēram, starojot no iekšas uz āru. Un dienas kad viņa mums parādās - līksmojam!
As we trek on into the darkest part of the year, there is definitely a new appreciation for sunshine and reflection on how our inside world reflects our outside world and vice versa. Our insides are always what we can work with and we do have the ability to bring greater balance into our lives in this arena.The Midwest of the US has a pronounced set of seasons, but in Latvia they are far more extreme. Here I'm not talking about hot and cold - the subzero winter temperatures in Wisconsin did just fine to prepare me for hard, cold Latvian winters, but sunlight is a whole different ballgame. In Latvia, on the very shortest days around Christmas, the sun only rises after 9am and sets well before 4pm, so travel to and from school/work is pitch black and at high noon on a cloud-free day, the sun just barely grazes roof and tree tops. In other words, both the quantity and quality of light is strikingly meager. You can grump about it, or you can literally learn new ways to see, feel and experience the world on the outside and how to expertly generate your own light on the inside.
It sure is comforting to have the sunshine out there, giving us our light, but if we've paid careful enough attention, this is the time of year we take a deep breath, grab the relay stick from the sun and follow her example, shining from the inside out. And the day's she does make an appearance, we rejoice!
Rise, sun! Rise, sun!
Shine into our homestead.
We really, really need your light. :)
Lai notiek tā!
Abas apbrīnojām, cik ļoti esam izmainijušās piepadsmit gados kopš satikāmies; mūsu ceļi ir atšķirīgi un tomēr līdzīgi. Abas atklājām, ka īpaši šis pēdējais gads ir posms kurā esam mācijušies ne tikai pieņemt bet arī reizēm prasīt palīdzību. Tad turpmākā mijiedarbība starp garīgiem spēkiem un materiālo pasauli ir apbrīnojama.
Yesterday I spent several hours in a heartfelt virtual chat with a friend who I'd last really spoken to fourteen months ago. Our conversations are rare but always deep and validating, and even though our connections are now virtual, it generated the feeling that we were snuggled up at her living room table with a glass of wine and the warm heat from the original bread oven in her old farmhouse. Physical distance matters very little for energy from our souls.
With both marveled at how much we have changed in the last fifteen years since we met; our paths are plenty different and yet also similar. We reflected on how particularly in the past year we've been learning to not only accept but also ask for help. The subsequent interplay between spiritual forces and the materials world is always fascinating.
Waking up early this morning
I said just three words
God, Laima and dear Māra
Come help me!
Lai notiek tā!
My inner critic is absolutely kicking and screaming about this composition of Latvian design, which I have drawn so unsymetrically, but I promised myself to release my creations into the world, even when they don't align with what my mind had envisioned. I'm working on solving the great riddle of me.... :)
'A person is her/his own greatest riddle, and yet s/he tries to guess at solving others....'
Lai notiek tā!
Mmmmmmm...... tas viss ko mēs katrs redzam, jūtam, piedzīvojam ir VIENreizīgs. Pasaule tikai tiks izlaista caur manu dzīves filtru vienu vienīgu reizi. Skaistais kā arī sāpīgais. Ja neatveros un nepadalos par to visu ko redzu, jūtu, piedzīvoju caur savas Diāna Laimas filtru, tas pazudīs. Uzdrīkstēmies!
Everything we see, feel and experience is absolutely one-of-a-kind. The world will only pass through my life's filter this one and only time. The beautiful as well as the painful. If I don't open up and share about the things I see, feel and experience through my Diāna Laima filter, it will be lost. Let's get brave!
'And really, will the beauty of this world as I feel it, remain unspoken?'
Lai notiek tā!
'Now I have two books, and as always, I won't have peace until they are read. They hide so much beauty inside, and my eyes fly over them like speedy bumblebees from flower to flower, from page to page, drinking up word after word.'
Latviešiem ir daudz tautas dziesmu, kas salīdzina māmmiņu ar saulīti. Lielāks gods nevarētu būt. Šie raksturojumi visi balstās uz saulītes siltumu un labumu, bet ir arī saule, kas var pārkarsēt un apdedzināt. Šīs dienas saulīte ir dedzīgi sarkana, jo saulīte ir ne tikai silta, bet reizēm arī uzkvēlo, un mums ir jāmācas sadzīvot ar to. Vārdsakot, visam ir savas robežas. Es vēl mācos pieņemt savu karstumu un dedzīgumu bez nežēlīgiem pārmetumiem pret sevi. Tā gribas 100% piedāvāt pavasarīgi silto dienu, bet tā nav realitāte ārpus mājām...
Tomēr kopumā gribas, lai iespaids ir silts un atbalstošs. Un tāpēc arī ir šie skaistie atgādinājumi, pēc kā mēs tiecamies.
I woke up with these words clearly resounding in my head today. Remanants of the dream world, a seed planted by the spiritual world to 'tune' my day. My children have an extra day off school today and last night I made them both cry somewhere between bathing and bedtime because they had both sat down heavily on my last nerve and were wiggling their butts around on it.
Latvians have many folksongs likening mothers to the sun. There could be no greater honor. These comparisons all highlight the sun's warmth and goodness, but there are also times when the sun overheats and even scorches us. Today's depiction of the sun ir fiery red, because sunshine isn't always just warm, but at times flares up and we must learn to live with that accordingly. In other words, everything has its boundaries and limits. I am still learning to accept my own heat and fieriness without ruthless criticism toward myself. I would so love to offer the warm spring day sunshine 100% of the time, but that isn't the reality outside of one's home...
Nevertheless, I sincerely hope that overall the impression I leave is warm and supportive. And that's why we have these beautiful reminders of something to strive toward.
The sun ir warm, mother is nice/pleasant/lovely,
Both are good.
From the sunshine - warm mornings,
From mother - kind and loving words.
Lai notiek tā!
What a wonderful notion, that we can't be completely emptied as we are connected to THE source, and how noteworthy are all the parts which have flowed into us.
But people are springs (water/energy sources).
They cannot be emptied.
They are so clear and clean.
They contain July clouds
And melted snowmen.
Something from autumn hail
And May frost.
I say thank you to the fir trees.
I say thank you to the hills.
(Ziedonis)
Lai notiek tā!
Tagad domāju gan par to, kā mūsu iekšējais saskaņojas ar ārējo. Arī aizdomājos par to, kā garīgais ieplūst un piepilda vietu un telpu starp fiziskā. Viens uzdevums mācoties par šo tēmu no antroposofiskā viedokļa, bija izveidot zīmējumu ar negatīvo telpu - tas ir atstāt pašu objektu baltu, un ar zīmulī iekrāsot visu pārejo. Garīgais visu laiku caurvijas un atspoguļo materiālo pasauli.
Jebkurā gadijumā, man PATĪK garīgais rāmums un ļoti gribu arvien vairāk to īstenot šeit un tagad.
Today this seemed like a timely reminder - that God and the spiritual always operates calmly and peacefully. I'm aligning myself to this energy. Looking by on this morning's meditative composition, it doesn't feel peaceful at all - if anything, it feels a bit chaotic, filled with movement and brightness. But creating it, there was a definite thought and feeling behind each addition - each Latvian symbol, each color choice and this particular ordering of them.
Now I'm reflecting on how the inner matches (or doesn't match) the external. I'm also thinking about how the spiritual flows into and fills up space here in the physical world. One of my assignments in studying anthroposophy was reflecting on this idea by creating a drawing using negative space - leaving the object itself white and shading in the rest of the page with a pencil. The spiritual is constantly weaving itself through the material world and mirroring it.
In any case, I LIKE the calmness and peace with which the spiritual moves and I really would like to embody this here and now.
Calmly, calmly, God rode
From the hill to the valley,
God's horses are calm
And the carriage has been forged calmly.
Lai notiek tā!
I get goosebumps each time I read these words. About how tightly and inescapably connected we all are, and they aren't even grand motions which which we impact each other, but even the most gentle movements branch out to reach everything and everyone. Yet again, time to mindfully 'tune' my movements....
A few bits of background information for context. Māra is the Latvian goddess who is responsible for the material world, for the here and now. She is the feminine to God's masculine; she is the physical to God's spiritual. She is Mother Earth. She is associated with the sea, with birth, with motherhood, with bread, with cattle and milk, with material possessions and money, with life and death. A midwife once told me the story of coming face-to-face with Māra's energy at a birth, and it was the hard line between life and death. It was not pulsing with mercy, but rather cold hard facts. The energy is the feminine energy of nurturing but certainly not coddling. Our time here on this three-dimensional earth is considered to be Māra's plane/territory.
Latvian babies traditionally slept in hanging bassinets which hung from the ceiling so a fussy baby with its own movements would rock itself to sleep.
Māras room (our earth...) is filled with little cradles.
When one moved, they all swayed along.
Lai notiek tā!
Maya Angelou tik skaisti šo aprakstija: 'Diemžēl izturība un gara spēks nav tā kā mana ādas krāsa - iedots man vienreiz un mans uz visiem laikiem. To ir jāadzīvina ar katru jaunu rītu un neatlaidīgi jāvingrina.'
If only it were so easy, so many would not need to write about it and we wouldn't constantly be looking for advice on this. But it seems this is our most important objective... to maintain our one and only soul's brightness and lightness, because no one else can do it for us.
Maya Angelou so beautifully captured this sentiment: 'Unfortunately, fortitude is not like the color of my skin, given to me once and mine forever. It needs to be resurrected each morning and exercised painstakingly.'
The stars have a lesson for you:
'Shine, soul, shine!
Shine like a guard early and late
At your light's doorway,
Don't allow, oh, don't allow darkness to enter!'
Lai notiek tā!
These words are my grandmother's composition. Following an extremely realistic dream in which I was back in 'our' forest in Latvia, this is my sentiment exactly. With tears in my eyes and endlessly deep gratitude in my heart.
Who can catch old of the most beautiful days long gone? The further they are, the sweeter, traversed again on sleepless nights....
Līdzinos bitītei un ļaujos tās enerģijas plūsmai. Tiecos pēc vieglumiņa darbā un apbrīnoju bitītes brīnumainos noslēpumus aerodinamikā - par spiti tam, ka viņas spārni ir pārāk mazi pēc fizikas likumiem, lai paceltu tik lielu ķermentīti gaisā, tā lido!
Live with the diligence of a bumblebee and the whiteness of an appleblossom...
Lai notiek tā!
Today I'm reflecting on how the Latvian word for 'health' stems from the word 'vesels' or 'whole'. Creating round mandalas, I feel especially at peace. Aspiriting towards roundness, wholeness, health.
I asked God, I asked Laima,
I kindly asked them both:
God for health (wholeness),
Laima for a good life.
Lai notiek tā!
There are so many quotes and reminders about the garden that is our thoughts - whether, we growing weeds or beautiful blooms. Of course, it isn't enough to just read about it, we must actively tend to our garden of thoughts!
When you are momentarily sad,
When it is momentarily hard to laugh -
Let there always bloom a sun flower in your garden of thoughts.
Lai notiek tā!
To me the sun is omnipresent and non-discriminatory warmth, lightness, brightness, ease..... equally good to/for everyone and everything. Reminiscent of quote by Hafiz saying: 'Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, 'You owe me.' Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.' Yes.... a little bit of this gold every day, please.... thank you, thank you and once more thank you!
Sunshine, sew your gold onto every day of the year!
Lai notiek tā!
On Canadian Thanksgiving Day, we remember that there is always, always, always something to be grateful for! (Guest artist Dainis!)
'I think this day for the short yet bright moment of sunset, for the rosy cloud in the gray sky.'
Lai notiek tā!
Vakar un šodien aizdomājos kā Dieva zīme līdzinās kalniem. Kalni un izaicinājumi kā garīgas dāvanas, un tas ka nevienā brīdī neesam vieni kalnā kapjot. Dieviņš kā ne tikai mūsu ceļa draugs, bet vienlaikus kā pats kalns - jo tā taču ir, ja garīgais viss galu galā ir viens. Pat visbaisākie kalni pēkšņi jūtas draudzīgi un tomēr mīlestības pilni....
And singing this, I always alter the lyrics: "....with one step [at a time] we'll get across, with a *light* step....."
Yesterday and today I've been contemplating how the Latvian symbol called Dieva zīme (God's sign) looks like a mountain. The possibility of mountains and challenges in our lives as spiritual gifts, un we are not alone at any moment in scaling these mountains. God as not only our friend on the journey, but simultaneously the mountain itself - because spiritually everything is ONE anyway. Even the most horrific mountains suddenly feel more friendly and filled with love....
Over/past one mountain, there will always another,
With one step [at a time] we'll get across,
With one step.
Lai notiek tā!
Tīrais dabas spēks, pieejams ikdienā, ja to pamanam, dodam sev mirkli mijiedarboties ar to, tīši noskaņojamies paši.
The pure strength of nature, available to us daily, if we take time to notice it, give ourselves a moment to interact with it, and intentionally 'tune' ourselves.
Lift your gaze to the rising sun,
Feel its strength, lifting you with it,
Reach out with love toward the forest and mountains
Let this morning be born in love!
Lai notiek tā!
Reiz dzīvojam saimnieks, kuram zirgs pazuda. Tajā vakarā, kaimiņi atnāca izteikt līdzjūtību. Viņi teica, 'Cik žēl, ka tavs zirgs ir pazudis. Tas gan ir neveiksmīgs notikums.' Saimnieks atbildēja, 'Varbūt jā, varbūt nē.' Nākamaja dienā zirgs atgriezās mājās kopā ar septiņiem savvaļas zirgi.' Tajā vakarā, kaimiņi atnāca un izsaucas, 'Vai cik laimīgi! Redzi kā viss ir pagriezies uz labu. Tagad tev pieder astoņi zirgi!' Vēlrezi saimnieks atbildēja, 'Varbūt jā, varbūt nē.'
Nākamajā dienā saimnieka dēls mēģināja jāt ar vienu no jaunajiem zirgiem. Zirgs salietās uz pakaļkājām un dēl salauza kājo krītot. Kaimiņi teica, 'Vai dieniņās, tas gan ir žēl!' Saimnieks atbildēja, 'Varbūt jā, varbūt nē.' Nākamajā dienā visus jaunos puišus iesauca armija, bet saimnieka dēls tika atraidīts dēļ lauztās kājas. Vēlreiz kaimiņi izteicās, 'Cik laimīgi!' Vēlreiz saimnieks atbildēja, 'Varbūt jā, varbūt nē.'
What a beautiful reminder, that anything and everything that happens to us is neither good, nor bad - we add our own personal judgement and essence. My sister recently shared a Chinese story which expresses this perfectly. It is up to us to have faith and trust! And we can't forget that Laimiņa has the complete picture, we only see the moment and space we are in!
Once upon a time there was a farmer whose horse ran away. That evening, all of his neighbors came around to commiserate. They said, “We are so sorry to hear your horse has run away. This is most unfortunate.” The farmer said, “Maybe yes, maybe no.” The next day the horse came back bringing seven wild horses with it, and in the evening everybody came back and said, “Oh, isn’t that lucky. What a great turn of events. You now have eight horses!” The farmer again said, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”
The following day his son tried to break one of the horses, and while riding it, he was thrown and broke his leg. The neighbors then said, “Oh dear, that’s too bad,” and the farmer responded, “Maybe yes, maybe no.” The next day the conscription officers came around to conscript people into the army, and they rejected his son because he had a broken leg. Again all the neighbors came around and said, “Isn’t that great!” Again, he said, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”
Others said:
'Your Laimiņa must've drowned!';
I saw my Laimiņa
Walking down a golden footbridge.
Lai notiek tā!
Where to find strength? In lightness? How to achieve lightness? Through song!
Is there reason not to sing
Even if the work is difficult?
With song and with playfulness/cheer
Difficult work gets done.
Whether I am working the mill
Or threshing grain -
Whatever work I am doing,
I sang the task a song.
I sang my way
Through my work week:
Through song I baked a loaf of bread
Through song I churned a bundle of butter.
Lai noteik tā!
Ņem nocērt man, cik gribi zaru,
Es vienmēr no jaunu ataugt varu.
Lai mani loka negaiss ar vēju,
Es taisns atkal atliekties spēju.
Met virsū man ledainu krusu,
Es savā šalkā tik eplošu klusu.
Lej man uz galvas vasaras versmi,
Es pats savā ēnā radīšu tversmi.
Lai nokrīt man rudenī pēdējā lapa,
Es atjaunots atkal celšos no kapa.
Ņem cirvi, pie pašas saknes man liec,
Ņem mani līdz zemei nostu triec -
Es nāvē vēl neesmu pazudis,
Aug klusi mazs zariņš - man pēctecis.
(Aspāzija)
The strength of a tree - not trying to change the external events, but being calm, simultaneously flexible and strong, aware and confident in oneself. So much still to learn from trees.
Take and chop as many of my branches as you'd like,
I can always grow new ones.
Let storms bend me with their wind,
I will be able to stand tall again.
Drop icy hail on me,
Through my rustling, I'll breath quietly.
Pour the sweltering summer on my head,
I'll create shelter with my own shadows.
Let my final autumn leaf fall,
Rejuvenated I will rise from the grave.
Place your axe directly next to my roots,
Take me down to the ground -
In death I still am not lost,
Quietly, a new twig grows - my successor.
Lai notiek tā!
When life feels too big and heavy, too wide and unknown, too dark (as it at times tends to do), it helps to remember that we always have travel companions with a broader, brighter, lighter view.
I wasn't able to be frightened,
Nor bothered by the dark:
God was my friend on the journey,
And Laima led the way.
Lai notiek tā!
Latviešu pasaules skatījumā, katram darbam piemīt arī ir garīgais elements - katrs darbs spēj mums kaut ko mācīt un veicināt mūsu izaugsmi, ja esam atvērti un ļaujamies. Es to uztveru gandrīz vai kā tautstāmu enerģiju un būtību, kas caurvijas fiziskajam darbam. Vai nu mēs papeldam darbam pa virsu un rīkojamies tikai fiziskajā esamība, vai nu mēs nirstam iekšā un piedzīvojam arī garīgo.
Vēl arvien cenšos atcerēties pamanīt Dieviņa būtību savā iekšējā un ārējā telpā, jo tā vienmēr ir, bet vien bieži pārslīdu un pasteidzos tam pa virsu. Tomēr, es arvien labāk sāku piefiksēt vārdus, kas raksturo šo esamību. Tas ir vieglums. Tas ir nesasteigts. Tas ir mīlestības piesātināts. Tas ir vienlaikus maigs un stiprs. Tas ir brīvi plūstošs. Galvenais jāatceras paklusēt un pamanīt....
Kā tu zini vai jūti, kad Dievs ir ienācis istabā?
Over the last two years, I often find myself wondering about what it feels like when 'God enters the room'. There is a definite awareness and sensation, when the spiritual floods an external space (a room or my home) or an internal space (my breath, my heart, my being). These wonderings and the challenge to articulate the feelings are a continuation of a juicy conversation started with colleagues about how we know when we are working not only physically but when we have also allowed the spiritual to flood into our work?
Through the Latvian lens, work always houses a spiritual element - every job or task has something to teach us and has the potential to contribute toward our growth, if we are open to it. I imagine this as almost a physical energy and essence that weaves itself through the physical work we do. Either we skim the surface and complete the job solely on the physical level, or we dive in completely to experience the spiritual as well.
I still have to remind myself to notice the spiritual essence outside of myself and within, because it's always there, but all too often I glide over it or rush past it. Nevertheless, I'm becoming more articulate with being able to define this essence and these feelings. It is lightness. It is unhurried. It is saturated with love. It is simultaneously gentle and strong. It flows freely. The most important thing to remember is to get quiet and still, to notice.....
How do you know or feel when the spiritual has flooded your space?
Be quiet and still, youngsters,
Be quiet and still, elders,
God has come into the room....
Lai notiek tā!
Ar vieglumiņu! Tā tik uz priekšu!
With lightness! Onward and upward!
Ah, life....
For life one needs:
Light hands, light feet and good, wise advice!
Lai notiek tā!
These words of strength convey two significant understandings. If we are to ask for help from God, first and foremost the wanting must be deep, honest and heartfelt, and then the desire will transform into abilities. We can't be lukewarm in asking for help. Moreover, we must understand (like in the classic children's Bear Hunt rhyme) - we can't go over it, we can't go under it, we've got to go through it. We can't skim across the surface but must be prepared for diving in completely for the going THROUGH.
With God's help,
I want to go through all things.
With God's help,
I can go through all things.
Lai notiek tā!
Vieglumiņu iemācijos no tauriņiem, kas kādreiz lidinājās man blakus, kad 'mūsu' meža takās trenejos skriešanai 6K maratonā. Ja bi...
