It is a lovely morning for meditation, for yoga, for calm thoughts and contemplation, and for a good cup of coffee. It is, indeed, simply a lovely morning.

I love these moments, sometimes hours, between the last of time spent sleeping, and the beginning of time spent in the company of dear ones. Life is rich and complex and filled with shared moments of all sorts. It often feels busy and tumultuous, sometimes rushed and unstructured. These few quiet moments feel most ‘my own’. Oddly, I don’t at all consider myself a ‘morning person’.

I am beginning something. I’m not really sure quite what it is.

My strange companions on a new journey.

I found myself contemplating meditation (just thinking about that sentence puts a huge grin on my face) and feeling inspired to create something that speaks to my experience.  I explored my imagination on the subject, without limitations, just thinking about resources on hand and what exactly was it I was trying to say, share, or experience myself. I am not ‘a Buddhist’. I am, however, fascinated by the concept of the Buddha (“The Enlightened One”) as a broader idea. Certainly, as a student of life, and of love, I eagerly seek enlightenment, myself.  I wanted to craft a figure that somehow spoke to me on the subject… using glow-in-the-dark Fimo, would be satisfying, I thought.

This guy was the first.

There is quite a bit of distance to cover between inspiration and outcome. When I crafted the first figure, I was certain he is ‘not The One’…but…I really enjoy him, nonetheless.  I felt bemused and puzzled by how quickly my brain and hands intervened to create something quite different from what I thought I was going for. I contentedly considered him for a day. I sat in contemplation the next day, still considering the distance between what I considered to be my intent, following it like a thread from my inspiration, through my actions, my will…clay in my fingers…

Being puzzled takes on a face.

Huh. I gave myself a moment to gaze on the quizzical little face with my own quizzical expression. Where did this come from? All my questions – all sorts of questions – suddenly felt ‘queued up’ and I experienced a sensation of being ‘overloaded’ and breathless with the unknown in life. There’s a lot of it. lol. I continued to work the clay – but I’d run out of glow-in-the-dark. I played with the knowledge as I worked, allowing words to become metaphors, and my thoughts calmed and became more still and easy. Deep breath in, deep relaxing breath out… fingers in the clay, mindful of the shapes, the color, trying this, then that…

What does the simplicity of mindful observation and breath looks like?

I smiled at the small calm face. I wondered at the simplicity of it. I had thought, when I was moved to craft a figure, initially, that once I had ‘done it’ I would be done. I continue to muse on the wee faces and heads, small figures expressing… things. I continue to be captivated by the figures, the process of crafting them, and their small significance – they express something for me. I found myself struggling to find simple words for what I am after – what I’m ‘going for’. The sensation of inspiration is, for me, rather dynamic and ferocious…but the feeling of the Fimo clay in my fingers is calming.

‘Dynamic and ferocious’?

I’ll likely keep making them. We are each having our own experience, moment by moment, and even the moments themselves are singular and unique and as individual as butterflies or snowflakes…or so it seems when I find the stillness to wonder at the fullness of a moment.

These small figures didn’t spring up unbidden from some mysterious recess of my heart, or some dark corner of my experience, long-buried. Nope. It’s more obvious than that.  When I was quite small, my Mother made some strange Easter egg ornaments – blown eggs (pretty uncommon these days, I think). They were painted and decorated. D’Artagnan and the 3 Musketeers are the ones of which I have the most clear memory. She also crocheted some ornaments for the Christmas tree – heads. Later, as an adult, I was delighted that some of them became mine, and each year I put one or two on the tree (they are delicate and I handle them with great care).

The one on the right is crocheted.

So, some obvious inspiration to draw from in my own experience. Then too, in so many of the anime series I watch, there are stone figures depicted in the forests and along the roadside. They often look like serene child-Buddhas of some sort.  Mizuko Jizo statues.  They fascinate and delight me. They touch my heart; they are used in a soul-soothing ritual for women who have lost a child.  This, too, is meaningful for me.

an example

So here I find myself, contemplating small faces, Buddhas, journeys, emotions, experiences… and 5 children that were never born. Strangely emotional place to end up, but journeys are like that – even when I have selected my destination with great care, it often turns out that the trip wasn’t even about reaching that place. lol.

I have stories to tell. So do you. So do we all – we are each having our own experience. I hope to choose my companions with great care, today, and to treat them well – they are an important piece of my experience, and every journey is greatly enhanced by good company. 😀