Creating the Future

Opening

In the Present © 2013 Bo Mackison

The future is not a result of choices among alternative paths offered by the present, but a place that is created — created first in the mind and will, created next in activity. The future is not some place we are going to, but one we are creating. ~ Deborah James

The word for desert is derived from the Greek word, eremes which, literally translated, means abandoned. The desert has often been described as a place where one meets life and death — face to face.

A place where one goes to face themselves. The desert provides a container in which one can eliminate distractions and experience deep encounters with the self. There is not much escape in the desert, though when I first made my frequent treks into the desert spaces, I felt as if I were escaping from many of life’s expectations. As I acclimated to the desert landscape, I found it was not an escape, but an invitation to dig deeper, to experience the intricate balance of life, death, and rebirth.

Every desert plant does the most intricate of dances to stay alive, to regenerate, to seed the earth and create the next generation of its species. Timing, luck, and chance weather play a part in the plant’s continued existence.

I once imagined I’d live life in the desert more as a contemplative than as a contributor. But contemplation, good for the mindful creation of dreams and goals, doesn’t have much of an action component. To bring those dreams to fruition — to allow the seeds to reach the earth, germinate and grow — requires workable steps of action.

I discovered that thinking and planning are only stage one. Stage two is active  — scheduling, meeting deadlines, connecting with other people, visiting sources, taking workshops, collaborating on ideas.

Stage one is necessary. Stage two is vital in order to create rather than only imagine the future. Action in the present is critical for the success of any plan, no matter how small or grand.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is exploring creative photography and emotion in a  series featuring desert lines – a combination of visual lines and written lines.

How The Light Gets In

Cactus Scars

Cactus Scars © 2013 Bo Mackison

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” ~ Rumi

As I walked back to my car after walking the labyrinth,  I followed a path through the desert scape, winding around rocky protuberances, around saguaros. Walking the labyrinth was more of an experience than I’d anticipated. I left somewhat shaken, off-balance. Literally finding my footing on the rough, rock-strewn path required my focus. I stumbled once, but jabbed my hiking stick off path to keep myself from falling.

As I righted myself, I glanced to the side of the path. The sunlight streaked through the landscape, highlighting a fist sized wound in a saguaro. It was enough to make me pause.

The saguaro was three times my height, and had four or five arms; it was possibly two hundred years old. Numerous scars, cracked surfaces and more than a few wounds covered its surface. Yet the sun rays cast a luminescence around the cactus, casting shadows from its thorns, and leading my eye to the largest opening at my eyes’ height.

I thought of the quote by Rumi, the wound allowing the light to enter.

And I thought of the lyrics from Leonard Cohen’s, song, Anthem:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.
~ from Anthem, Leonard Cohen

It made so much sense. The wounds, the cracks, the imperfections – they allow the light to enter, that’s how the light gets in.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is exploring photography, poetry, and emotion in a new series featuring desert lines.

Desert Labyrinth

Desert Labyrinth

Desert Labyrinth ©2013 Bo Mackison

Labyrinth, A Journey

I walk in circles, around and back, around and forth.

There is a beginning, a middle, an end.

Guided by lines of crooked rocks
and an invisible hand on my shoulder,
subtle pressure encouraging me forward.

Take one more step,
Make one more turn,
Move into the center.

And there I stand immobile, my breath fragmented.

The labyrinth’s center, a large pock-marked rock
laden with mementos and memento mori —
small stones, rings and bracelets, a dog tag, holy cards.

Center – the farthest distance from beginning or end.

And so I move on.
No longer walking a slow meditative pace.

I am anxious to leave, ready to bolt, disappear,
still
I do not disregard the worn path,
the unspoken rule of the labyrinth.

I stumble to its exit, blinded, my feet guided by the rocky lines,
and the labyrinth expels me from its sacred interior
into the other world.

The ghost keeps vigil, its eyes the eyes of the cactus wren
perched on the spire of a tree cholla.
Its whisper, low and moaning, travels in the arroyo
carried on swirling winds.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She explores creative photography. poetry, and emotion in a new series featuring desert lines.