Articles by Bo Mackison

Transition – A Desert Wisdom Card

Rolling Mountain Ranges

see Twilight over the Mountains © 2013 Bo Mackison

https://geneticsandfertility.com/sarasota-jungle-gardens/ Feel ecstatic that there is no end to life, that when you have reached one peak, suddenly another peak starts giving you challenges — a higher one, a more arduous climb, a more dangerous reach. And when you have reached the other peak, there will be another peak; peaks upon peaks. ~ Osho

Each evening the sun slides from our view, yet its brilliant light show lingers in deep hues of oranges and reds.

click here Gradually, so gradually, the darkness deepens until there is only dark sky. The day is over; night is upon us. From experience, we know that twilight passes into night, night lightens into dawn, and dawn brings forth a new day.

Ambien Buy Online “To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.” ~Henri Berson

 Our life is filled with transitions also. Life is change, no part of life is constant.

Buy Zopiclone 7.5 Mg Online We live, passing through transitions, firm in the knowledge that when shadows settle on us, and when night makes all dark, faith reminds us that the darkness will gradually lighten into a glorious dawn and then transition into the light of day in which we can clearly see.

Buy Klonopin Online Overnight Transitions are often difficult. It is easier, more comfortable, less anxiety-provoking to live in the false illusion of constancy, yet nothing in nature is constant, and we are a part of nature. Once we open our minds and hearts and souls to the acceptance of change as a constant, we are better able to transition, to ride the up and down roller-coaster of living a full, authentic life.

follow link The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out…  ~ Maya Angelou

TRANSITION offers questions/reflections for journal writing, art, and a call for action:

  •  It is human to resist change, to fear transitions, but life’s forward movement is unstoppable. When facing a time of transition, know and accept that this time may be one of increased stress, anxiety, fear. When you know you are working through a transition, your first step is to plan extreme self-care. The basics: are you eating the right foods, getting enough sleep, moving your body, making time for quiet and solitude.  All are essential – when you are in a balanced space, you can more easily keep your footing through times of upheaval and change.
  • At a time in my life when I was developing the skills to successfully negotiate transitions, I created a mini blank book, about 3″ x 2″ in size. It had about 12 pages. I carried it in my pocket so I could easily refer to it. Each page was a visual reminder for a life-skill — methods for grounding, dealing with difficult or challenging times, for problem solving through transitions.
    • These books are super simple to create, with just a few pieces of folded paper.  I made the cover of my book from an old map — a symbol for having the directions to find your way. Each page had a skill – a simple line drawing, a few words. Make a book for yourself.
    • Among the skills I included in my book were visualizing a safe place and repeating a simple mantra for calming. Fill your mini-book with the techniques you find most beneficial when dealing with transitions. Use as needed!

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go to link Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Bo is creating a deck of Desert Wisdom Cards for exploration and discovery, using a Sonoran Desert theme – its myths and stories, cultures and heritage, and the desert’s remarkable natural beauty and resources.

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Home Again, Home Again

Iowa Farms

Abandoned Barn © 2013 Bo Mackison

The Ninth Day

Sioux Falls, South Dakota. 7:17 am. 41˚ and a cold drizzle.
I study the map with intention.
450 miles from my destination, and suddenly I yearn to be home.
Damp, the gray clouds spread before me, hugging close to the ground.
It’s farther than I want to drive, but I throw my preferences out the car window,
and phone home, “No stops today. I’ll be there by 3.”

Fog thickens, the spinning windmills disappear,
only the brown-black soil drenched with slick puddles is visible.
For distraction’s sake, I turn on the radio, listen to an interview in progress,
Maya Angelou recalls her youth, the words of wisdom she lives by,
I catch bits and pieces as I concentrate on steering
around wide load trucks and semi trucks, double strung.

“Love liberates love,” she says. “Doesn’t bind.”
I think of my four month stay in Arizona.
Angelou speaks her mother’s words: “I’d love to have you near me,
but if that isn’t possible – go.” The ultimate gift.

The exit sign for Rushmore, Minnesota shifts into view,
Red wing blackbirds dart from field post to billboard post.
Worthington, Minnesota.
“Love liberates love. Love doesn’t bind.” The radio informs.

I take a break from the steady rain, pull out my umbrella,
pace the pavement in front of a square rest-area building.
Winded and chilled, I wipe the raindrops from my arms and face,
resume my drive.

Piano notes fill the car’s interior, Bill Evans plays Peace Piece.
My chest tightens, the need to drive safely is stronger than my urge to weep.
It’s been a long drive, a long stay away.
A swarming flock of crows mobs a hawk.
Skies lighten, blue sky window,
only a glimpse before gray returns.

Iowa Farms

Glimpse of Sun © 2013 Bo Mackison

In central Minnesota, I exit I-90. Back roads cut the angle.
State highways wind through the countryside. Snow covers fields.
Shooting Star Scenic Highway.
At the VFW east of Adonis, I wait in a traffic jam.
Drivers park cars along the road, there’s a crowd
standing outside, neatly in a long line.
Flashing neon sign tells all — Chicken Dinner, 12 Noon to 2:00.
I munch on almonds and string cheese. My apple rolls on the floor mat.

LeRoy, Minnesota.
Upper Iowa River at flood stage.
More music on the radio – Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers,
James Taylor crooning You Are My Only One.
I’ll Make Love to You by Boyz II Men.
I’m at flood stage, too.

MN 56, US 63 South, IA 9 East.
I zag across state lines, searching for short cuts.
Lionel Richie’s Truly plays on the radio. Really? Universe, I am listening.
I pull to the roadside, take deep breaths, open another bottle of water,
turn off the radio to concentrate on the road.

My breathing comes easier as I cross the Mississippi at Marquette
and two hawks dive from the limestone cliffs, land on a sliver of river island.
On the eastern shore, the governor’s sign welcomes me to Wisconsin.
At Mount Ida, in a 20 mile an hour zone, I study a woman
as she spray paints her yard’s dried seed heads a bright iridescent blue.
I smile. Then I grin.

An hour later, I pull into my driveway.
Home again.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. A cross-country traveler by day, and an occasional poet by night. This poem is in nine parts, because the trip lasts nine days. This is Day Nine, the final day of traveling. This entry is dedicated to Sherpa, who is close to my heart, wherever I am.

Traveling the Badlands and Beyond

Badlands National Park

Entering the Badlands © 2013 Bo Mackison

Rapid City. 6:27 am. Sunny and 37˚F.
Filling the car’s gas tank is morning’s first priority – $2.94 a gallon,
cheapest gas on my travels. I buy sunglasses as I pay for my gas.
Standard equipment in Arizona, I’ve three lost pairs in the car,
and I’m driving due east into sunrise.
Streaks of angry orange flames decorate the cheapest pair that fit.
No matter, I buy them, in a hurry to find the back road to the Badlands.

I am the sole traveler on Highway 44 for miles, the country’s rough, desolate, beautiful.
The Badlands rise from prairie, stark layers of sediment,
rock ribbons in tan, gray, yellow, black.
Grasslands and badlands – a contrasting combination
of pale green growth and rock erosion. Soul soothing.

Badlands National Park

Badlands National Park © 2013 Bo Mackison

My hike is brief – an hour in, an hour out – I make the time.
Hiking in rocky wilderness is good for what ails me.
I celebrate with lunch, Indian Tacos at the Cedar Pass Cafe,
visit the Badlands National Park’s Visitor Center.
Roam through the twenty site campground – more family trips
come to mind. I am grateful I’ve held tight to these decades-old memories.

I’ve avoided the mindless Interstate roads for 2100 miles, but no longer,
Back roads that head east are no longer an option.
Roads in South Dakota head to outlying ranches or farms, or towns 50 miles to the south.
I pull on I-90 East, set the cruise control, and become traffic.
Destination: Sioux Falls, a decent dinner, a quiet hotel room.

On my last night on the road, I wade through puddles in the cold rain,
enter the nearest restaurant,
and order a steak. It comes with a first class salad bar –
bowls mounded with fresh veggies along a twenty-foot table.

Contentment eases into my being.
Tomorrow I will be in Wisconsin,
but for now, a walk in the rain soaks me in Midwestern welcome.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. A cross-country traveler by day, and an occasional poet by night. This is a poem in nine parts, because the trip lasts nine days. This is Day Eight.

Celebration – A Desert Wisdom Card

Celebration - A Desert Wisdom Card

Aloe Fireworks © 2013 Bo Mackison

“People of our time are losing the power of celebration. Instead of celebrating, we seek to be amused or entertained. Celebration is an active state, an act of expressing reverence or appreciation… Celebration is a confrontation, giving attention to the transcendent meaning of one’s actions.”  ~ Abraham Joshua Heschel

I dubbed this bright coral aloe the ‘Fireworks Aloe’.

To me, it is a beautiful reminder of CELEBRATION. Not the noisy, crowded celebrations we associate with national holidays or milestone achievements — parties, large gatherings, extravagant entertainment — but the small daily achievements that deserve celebrations, too.

The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate. ~ Oprah Winfrey

These aloe buds are bright and beautiful. They carry a certain joie de vivre, the French phrase that conveys “an exultation of spirit.” The blossoms remind us to celebrate life frequently, passionately, reverently.

We often do the hard work, complete the frustrating assignment, then move on to our next task never pausing to acknowledge our achievement.

How wonderful to take a few moments and celebrate, with appreciation and reverence, a job well done or a task completed in a timely fashion.

“Celebrate, celebrate, dance to the music.
Celebrate, celebrate, dance to the music…”
~ lyrics from Three Dog Night

CELEBRATION offers questions/reflections for journal writing, art, and a call for action:

  • Celebrations do not require expensive preparations or large chunks of time. A celebration marks the completion of a project, large or small. Reflect on the projects you’ve completed in the past few days – large or small. How many of these accomplishments did you acknowledge?
  • In your journal keep a running list of your completed projects for a short period of time – perhaps a morning or a weekend. (Laundry, exercise, weeding the garden, writing a paper — they all count!) As you finish each project, celebrate. Think small Or not. Acknowledge with an “exultation of spirit”.
  • Collect a few props to use when you want to celebration. Streamers. Upbeat music. A big sheet of paper and bright markers for writing yourself congratulatory messages. A kazoo for impromptu cheers.  Add smiles and laughter. Use frequently!

————

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Bo is creating a deck of Desert Wisdom Cards for exploration and discovery, using the Sonoran Desert theme – its myths and stories, cultures and heritage, and the desert’s remarkable natural beauty and resources.

Pictographs, Buffalo, Mount Rushmore, Memories

Pictograh by Native American Artist, Agate Fossil Beds National Monument Visitor Center

Pictograph by Native American Artist © 2013 Bo Mackison

Day 7 – Nebraska Panhandle to Black Hills

Scotts Bluff, Nebraska. 7:10 a.m. 34˚F. Sunny. Windy.

Smoke hangs in the air as I head north, leaving town.
Cook Oil Road.
Gas Engine Road.
Narrow valleys shrouded with heavy fog.

Wild turkeys on the roadside look ready for a butterball feast,
No kin to the elongated, scrawny fowl in Wisconsin.
Black calves peer though the wire fencing,
one has a pure white face, striking in his difference.

Agate Fossil Beds National Monument on the Nioroba River.
The ranger unlocks the Visitor Center, it’s early on a Friday,
He story tells his way through the exhibits, proud of
the people in the murals and their discoveries and kind deeds.
A calendar pictograph covers the wall – a peoples’ history. Striking.

Horses in Custer State Park

Horses in Custer State Park © 2013 Bo Mackison

Trees appear in the distance as I drive
the battered road in Ogallala National Grasslands.
Antelope stare, then break into an elegant run.

Ardmore, Nebraska, nearly out-of-town before I notice it’s a ghost town.
Old houses and churches, broken windows in faded businesses, out of business signs,
old cars, but no people, no voices. No signs of movement, of living.

Driving turns hypnotic, I jerk alert when I see a curve sign.
Enveloped by soft greens, soft mounds, soft sounds, I continue –
Me, my car, the narrow asphalt road.

Historical Sign Ahead: Wood Stage Memorial Marker.
Cheyenne River, a narrow ribbon of brown.
Wild Horse Refuge. and the hills turn Crayola Crayon Green.
Cascade Falls, Black Hills National Forest.
Bison chili at the Blur Bison Cafe in Hot Springs.

Buffalo Right of Way

Buffalo Right of Way © 2013 Bo Mackison

Wind Cave National Park,
I skip the cave tour and watch the buffalo instead,
often I wait, my foot on the brake, as the buffalo ignore me.
Huge beasts, shaggy and disheveled, shedding their winter coats.

Mount Rushmore from Afar

Mount Rushmore from Afar © 2013 Bo Mackison

I detour through Custer State Park, relive memories of a family summer vacation
twenty years past; there was a pop up camper,
a hotel-preferring husband, three kids and me, all on our big explore.
Memory making moments, still precious, favorite childhood memories.

I pull out my camera when Mount Rushmore, framed in a narrow tunnel, takes me by surprise.

Flags at Mount Rushmore

Flags at Mount Rushmore © 2013 Bo Mackison

Miles down the road, I hesitate.
Stop at Mount Rushmore National Monument? I’ve already seen it…

Once more memories crowd my thoughts, I stop, pay exorbitant parking fees,
and walk to the empty benches in front of the four Presidents.
That vacation long ago…
I remember the 9-year-old boy who sat next to me for a half day,
craning his neck, staring, studying
stunned into silence by the thought of a mountain, a sculptor and a chisel.

The memory alone was worth the stop.

______________

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. A cross-country traveler by day, and an occasional poet. This is a poem in nine parts, because the trip lasts nine days. This is Day Seven.