Desert Wisdom – Page 3

Patience – A Desert Wisdom Card

September 15, 2014 by Bo Mackison 1 Comment

“Patience is not passive resignation, nor is it failing to act because of our fears. Patience means active waiting and enduring. It means staying with something and doing all that we can – working, hoping, and exercising faith; bearing hardship with fortitude, even when the desires of our hearts are delayed. Patience is not simply enduring; it is enduring well! ~ Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Patience. Certainly a wisdom gift of the desert. Certainly a quality required when one is actually walking/living/being in the desert, and for those desert-like times when life feels arid and silent, or overwhelming and fragmented.

I love this photograph, a photo taken at Mission San Xavier del Bac, a mission church in southern Arizona built in the 1700s. The church took decades to build by hand with primitive tools.

There were no supplies of paint or marble or fabric. Even the wood had to be hauled from a distance of twenty miles. They built the walls with lime-kiln clay. They carved statues from wood and dyed them brilliant colors using both native dyes and imported gilding. They carved shells, roping, and drapery-like sculptures for windows ornamentation and the choir. They painted wall murals and patterned arches. They sculpted a baptismal font and painted it to look like marble.

Works of art that required patience and determination, and which are still in use, and honored by the present day parishioners.

“A waiting person is a patient person. The word patience means the willingness to stay where we are and live the situation out to the full in the belief that something hidden there will manifest itself to us.” ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

In the photo, I stand in the shadows.

Waiting. Watching. Questioning.

Listening to the Silence.

Practicing patience.

Filed Under: Desert Wisdom Tagged With: Arizona, desert, desert wisdom, desert wisdom card, mission church, patience

My Desert Office

August 24, 2014 by Bo Mackison 1 Comment

“When I look in the mirror, I see a woman with secrets. When we don’t listen to our intuition, we abandon our souls. And we abandon our souls because we are afraid if we don’t, others will abandon us.” ~ Terry Tempest Williams

When I am in Arizona, I often go to the desert to work. I follow my intuition and my need to settle into a place of sunshine, heat and silence, spaciousness and solitude. It’s not the place most people would choose as prime office space, but it suits me fine.

When I connect with nature, I experience a boost in my mood. My imagination switches to on, and I find my work projects more inviting. Perhaps it is simply a change in scenery. Some women I know find a quiet niche in their local library, head to a busy coffee shop to write with companions, set up a sewing table in the midst of their garden, or paint in a park.

But me? I head to the desert. I bring my backpack filled with writing materials and my camera, and settle in one of the covered shelters scattered throughout Saguaro National Park. These stone and “cactus-wood” shelters were built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), and still provide a shady place for me to set up my temporary desert-scape office.

If you are not finding the time for creativity, you are not finding the time for one of your main reasons on earth…to fully allow the creative force of your divinity to connect and move through you. ~ Jill Badonsky

The change of pace triggers the little child in me who says, “Yippee! I don’t have to work inside today!” Suddenly any resistance I may have brought along decreases and I’m more motivated to look at my scribbled to-do list–a very casual document–and choose an item that catches my attention.

I also give myself permission to begin by working in very small increments, especially if I’m considering a project I find overwhelming, technical or difficult.

“Just begin,” I remind myself. “Start working for just ten minutes.”

After ten minutes, I have already given myself permission to stop, although ninety percent of the time once I’ve gotten started I keep right on working productively. I have broken through the “get started” barrier, broken through the procrastination, the overwhelm – and I get my work done.

But if after ten minutes, I’m still looking at a blank piece of paper, or kicking my toe into the desert dust to watch it poof, or I’m distracted by the cactus wrens building a nest in the rafters, I change tactics.

Usually, when the distractions of daily life deplete our energy, the first thing we eliminate is the thing we need the most: quiet, reflective time. Time to dream, time to contemplate what’s working and what’s not, so that we can make changes for the better. ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach

I grab a tiny notebook and pencil and my camera, and I hike through the Sonoran Desert. I study the giant saguaro, I watch the tiny lizards scuttling from the shade of a boulder to the skirt of a low-growing acacia shrub, I stop and listen to the coyotes sing as they gather in the arroyo when the shadows lengthen.

If I need more time, more grounding, I’ll walk in the canyon deeper into the wilderness, and head away the few people who also walk the desert in the late afternoon. I might sit on a rock outcropping, and settle my feet upon the earth. If I’m taking photographs for a project, I take time to contemplate my surroundings. Study the muted colors, the desert is awash in greens and yellows. The ocotillo’s bare branches swaying in a slight breeze, ten foot long sticks that will sprout green leaves after a rainfall. Birds chatter and swoop; ground squirrels chase each other.

The material of the artist lies not within himself nor in the fabrications of his imagination, but in the world around him . . . The artist’s world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep. ~ Paul Strand

As I pay attention to my desert surroundings, ideas pop into my head, often answers to confounding questions that I’ve puzzled over for hours. I pull out my paper and pencil to capture the thoughts immediately. Thoughts like these are as fleeting as the dream you remember upon awakening, but forget before your feet hit the floor.

I always write breakthrough ideas down, no matter how certain I am I will remember them.

Before I leave my desert office, I add a short note in my journal. This is my “ta-dah” list, a list that is the sequel to my “to-do” list. On this second list, I write down the highlights of my day.

Here is a rather typical ta-dah list from a desert office visit this past spring:

saw a bright red cardinal and it made my smile
wrote 200 words on the ‘courage’ essay
took some fun photos of three lizards in the shadow of a saguaro
walked the canyon trail and listened to the coyotes sing, wrote some poetry as I stood there listening
felt grounded and grateful

Filed Under: Desert Wisdom, Photography Tagged With: Arizona, desert, getting work done, Saguaro National Park, working in the desert

The Feel of the Path – A Prayer of Desert Petition

May 2, 2014 by Bo Mackison 8 Comments

I walk and walk and walk.
Through scrub land and foothills, through the desert, into the arroyo, up into the high canyons
where palo verde accent the desert green with yellow blossoms

Slowly. In an attempt to memorize each step,
consider the existence of each lizard that skitters under rocks at my approach,
study the tall saguaro, the one that speaks to me in our silent language.

There are the Texas Canyon boulders that balance with delicate precision,
boulders upon boulders, the giants’ cairns.

There are the trees dead in the grasslands, choked dry

There is the agave, its flowers long ago spent, its seed heads crispy brown,
standing tall in the ruts of an abandoned road.

There is my reawakened respect for the western rattler,
most plentiful and most dangerous of Arizona snakes.

I watched it rise three feet and rattle like dried chimes,
then zip into the thick grasses of the arroyo.
Left me standing at the arroyo’s edge, breathless,
looking at the emptiness where it had flashed me warning.

There is wonder at my daily sightings of a mama and papa quail,
their brood of chicks darting like scattered billiards balls,
each pecking for seeds in the rocky soil.

On hot afternoons the adults settle upon the earth like ancient ocean puffer balls,
and keep watch over their babies tucked under a staghorn cholla, an unlikely nesting hideout.

There are only memories of the gray dove perched upon the adobe wall
and the Coopers hawk’s swoop from behind.
Memories of the clutch of talons,
the dove’s disappearance amidst an explosion of feathers.

I gathered feathers from the tiled porch for a week
while pondering the order, and disorder, of nature.

This is a rough land, yet it fits my temperament.

Its wildness is a comfort,
its unexpected lushness a gift,
its unrelenting demands a lesson in awareness,
its solitude a rarity,
its brilliant sun-drenched land a tonic,
its dark skies a reminder of the need for rest.

How old the land upon which I walk,
ancient volcanic rock cold upon the hot desert earth.
And fossils of trilobites and shark teeth document this land’s history, how amazing the story.

Billions of years of tiny changes.

And so I walk and walk, and walk more. Relentless.
And commit to memory what I see,
Reminders that though I leave, I will return.

Filed Under: Desert Wisdom, Writing Practices Tagged With: Arizona, desert, lost and found, nature, poetry, saying good bye, Sonoran Desert, Travel, walking blessing

Following One’s Creative Heart – And Announcing the Desert Wisdom Cards, Series II

April 30, 2014 by Bo Mackison 6 Comments

I am so excited to announce the completion of the Second Series of the Desert Wisdom Cards!

After months of photographing the Sonoran Desert, choosing themes and cards that “spoke to me”, and then creating a new deck of cards and a new portfolio — the Desert Wisdom Cards – Series II are done.

The second series of desert cards were not actually a part of my “creative plan.”

Originally, I planned to create a set of nature based cards that included four themes – desert, shore, prairie, and mountain – plus a set of source cards, based loosely on the template of a tarot deck. I completed the Desert Cards last October, and began the prairie cards. But the spark wasn’t there. I had photographs, I had the themes and concepts, but there was no magic in the work.

I was stunned, for a long while. I love the prairie almost as much as I love the desert. In fact, it was my first love. I persisted for months, but never was able to muster the same sort of enthusiasm and magic that I felt when I would work on desert-themed projects.

And so I stored my nature set ideas in a box for future consideration, and I went back to my desert and her inspiration.

Voila! The magic was immediately back!

What are Desert Wisdom Cards?

The Desert Wisdom Cards – Series II are a set of 14 hand-made cards used for reflection and inspiration. Each card has a photograph of the beautiful Sonoran Desert and a single word for contemplation, reflection, or as a prompt for journal writing.

The card set is only available in a hand crafted, limited edition of 26, numbered and signed.

How were the Desert Wisdom Cards first created?

I created the set of Desert Wisdom Cards to use during my morning practice, focusing on the photograph for inspiration and reflection. I also use the cards as prompts for journal writing, and as a springboard for art and nature projects.

While contemplating my desert photographs during my morning meditation and journal practice, I discovered that the process not only allowed me to use my art for healing, but also provided me with a system that promoted problem solving and goal setting.

The cards became a framework to consider choices, make plans, and instigate changes in life — while providing structure for an in-depth creative practice.

To read the story of how I first created Desert Wisdom Cards, see my blog post, “Beyond — The World.

Little did I know when I began creating contemplative photo cards, it would become a catalyst to create the Desert Wisdom Cards and help me discover the great “Beyond”. And that “Beyond” became a new way of whole-hearted living, based on nature and creativity, combined with my photography.

A new portfolio complements the cards.

This set of cards comes in a completely restyled, hand decorated folded portfolio. Each portfolio is individually decorated with ink, acrylics and metallic paint. Designed in the color palette of the desert, each folder is unique and a mini-work of art in itself.

NEW! A special guide is now included in the set.

This four page pamphlet offers suggestions for using the cards, including activities for body, mind and spirit. Also included in the booklet is information on the evolution of the cards and additional resources for nature and art related activities.

And a special thanks to James Wells who graciously shared his method of delving deeply into tarot cards using multiple activities for body, mind and spirit. This was a great source when I was adapting activities for Desert Wisdom Card guide book.

Set Specifications:

The cards are 7.5 inches by 4.5 inches. Each card includes one of my color photographs of the Sonoran Desert and a single word for reflection.

Each card is printed on a cylinder letterpress, the type set by hand and then printed using a vintage (1940s) Vandercook No.3 Letterpress.

This set of cards comes in a hand crafted, folded portfolio. Each portfolio is individually decorated with ink, acrylics and metallic paint. Designed in the color palette of the desert, each folder is unique and a mini-work of art in itself.

The Desert Wisdom Card set includes 14 cards, storage portfolio, and a four page pamphlet with suggestions for using the cards. The cards will also fit in the four flap portfolio that comes with the original set, the Desert Wisdom Cards – Series I.

How to use the set of Desert Wisdom Cards:

They are perfect to use as a mini-set for meditation, inspiration and contemplation. A few useful suggestions include:

Choose a daily card as a focus card during meditation.
Choose a card as a journal or art prompt.
Enrich your spiritual practice through contemplation of the desert and nature.
Inspire and nurture your creative muse.

Of course, these are only suggestions. If you are guided in a different way to use the cards, by all means follow your heart.

How to Purchase a Set of Desert Wisdom Cards?

The Desert Wisdom Cards – Set II are now available in my Etsy shop.

$45.00 for the portfolio, set of 14 cards, and the guide book.

They also make a perfect complement to the original set of Desert Wisdom Cards.

Both sets of cards were also planned to combine beautifully. Although the portfolios are different in look, the card template is the same. When combining the two sets, there are 38 cards in the deck. This offers combinations and possibilities for more complex uses and spreads.

And finally, a thank you!

I thank so many of you, my supporters and friends, and especially Sherpa and my family in the Midwest, for your love and support as these cards evolved and were created.

Living and creating in the Sonoran Desert feeds and strengthens my body, mind and spirit.

It is truly a gift for me to live and work here, yet I understand that it is a sacrifice for many of my love ones. For this opportunity and for your understanding, I am truly grateful.

Filed Under: Book Arts, Desert Wisdom Tagged With: Arizona, book arts, creative process, desert, Desert Wisdom Cards, Desert Wisdom Cards - Series II, meditation cards, Sonoran Desert

Camping with Cacti by the Light of the Full Moon – A Challenge in the Desert

April 1, 2014 by Bo Mackison 5 Comments

“Every challenge you encounter in life is a fork in the road. You have the choice to choose which way to go – backward, forward, breakdown or breakthrough.” ~ Ifeanyi Enoch Onuoha

I love the desert.

This was a surprise to me when I first visited the Southwest.

I had driven through a part of the Mojave Desert on a family vacation many years ago, and I do not remember my reaction, negative or positive. So it came as a surprise to me when I visited Arizona and the Sonoran Desert in 2008 and had an immediate, visceral connection with this arid landscape.

I felt as if I had finally found my home.

The first time I lived in the desert for any length of time, it was a challenge on all counts. It was the first time I lived away from my husband and family for an extended time. I had lived a protected life for many years, and challenging myself to come to Arizona, alone, was a big deal. I was responsible for taking care of everything.

I succeeded, but it was difficult. There were times I found myself crying in frustration, angry that doing the grocery shopping or filling the car with gas were such obstacles. I was anxious when I had to drive after dark or when I got lost in a strange part of the city. I struggled to accomplish the daily routines I believed everyone else did with ease.

My second winter in Arizona, I learned to not only live by myself, but thrive while doing so. I explored southern Arizona, traveling the back roads and byways. I found my footing.

The third year was more difficult. I stayed longer and I had fewer visits from family and friends. But again I did quite well, and when it was time to return to the Midwest, I drove cross-country, solo. Another milestone, hard-earned, but I was proud that I was gradually accomplishing more and more.

This year, my fourth year, I was pleased that I was once again thriving in Arizona. (I had the added advantage of extended visits from Sherpa every month, which was a great bonus.)

And then . . . I decided to go primitive camping in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, a three-hour drive from my Arizona home.

“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”
~ Helen Keller

The day I drove to Organ Pipe was a perfect desert day – moderate temperatures, deep blue skies, calm weather.

I dictated brief scraps of travel tidbits into my phone recorder as I drove, and then stopped at a roadside cafe for lunch before entering the park. I was in no hurry – I had the whole afternoon and evening for setting up camp and exploring, and tomorrow too.

I spent an hour enjoying a home cooked meal and writing in my journal.

By the time I left, the temperature had soared into the 90s and the wind had picked up. Neither heat nor high winds had been forecast, so this was unexpected, but not particularly unusual. I signed in at the campground, found an isolated site, and pitched my tent amidst saguaro and organ pipe cacti.

The winds made setting up the tent a challenge, and it didn’t help that I had forgotten my mallet back in Tucson. I still set up the tent, using a rock to pound in the stakes, but I ended up with cut hands from the sharp edges of the rock.

I did remember the first aid kit, and bandages, and that was a good thing.

Then off I went to explore with camera in hand. By the time I returned to camp to prepare my dinner, the winds had quieted, and the evening was immeasurably pleasant.

After the sun set, the skies were dark and it was a treat to take in the night skies.

Every star shimmered and danced in its glory. And then the moon rose – a full moon. Large as a saucer, brilliant with a few wispy clouds drifting across her face. The desert was awash with moonlight, nearly as light as on a stormy day. It was a moment to treasure.

But then, as if an early morning alarm clock had shrieked and blinked wildly, the desert awoke. The desert life joined in the noise making. Coyotes howled, birds squawked, dark furry things ambled along the dirt road, slithery sounds emerged from the tall grasses.

None of these sounds are new to me. I walk the desert several times a week. But it seemed totally different in the eerily moonlit desert. It wasn’t quite light enough to see well, but my hearing took on a well-tuned acuity. Suddenly I heard anything, and everything.

There was only one reasonable alternative I could think of — zip myself into my tent and call it a night. I briefly considered pulling up camp and driving home. Too far. I also considered screaming that the desert was coming to life and I was afraid, but that seemed quite unreasonable. Plus I figured it would attract the wrong kind of attention. Nor did I want to succumb to a panic attack in the light of the silvery moon? No way.

So I zipped myself into my tiny tent and willed myself to get drowsy and fall into a blissful sleep.

That did not happen. I did not fall asleep until it was nearly time to get up. That is the unfortunate news.

But there were a lot of positives, too. I stayed (mostly) calm throughout the long night, drowsing a bit, then waking up to the moonlit desert and momentarily thinking the sun was rising. Disappointed? Yes. But still calm and in control.

I now have first hand proof that meditation and deep breathing are indeed helpful, even when a desert creature is rubbing against the ropes that stake the tent into the earth. Even when the tent is wobbling a bit. And I can also practice meditation and calming while armed with a hiking stick – just in case the tent wobbling gets out of control.

There’s always a story. It’s all stories, really.
The sun coming up every day is a story. Everything’s got a story in it.
Change the story, change the world. ~ Terry Pratchett

Did I mention that the sun did rise through a haze of low clouds, and burst onto the desert scene, a white blaze?

Or that I crawled out of the tent, all in one piece, and immediately set up my backpacker stove to heat water for coffee?

Or that a cup of French press coffee after a long, wakeful night is one of the best morning gifts I can imagine?

Or that I was pretty darned pleased with myself for surviving an uneventful night in the desert, even if I did let myself get freaked out by the full-moon-night-concert-in-the-desert?

Or that I still love the desert?

Yes, indeed!

Filed Under: Desert Wisdom, Nature Explorations Tagged With: camping in the desert, challenges, coffee in the desert, full moon, organ pipe cactus, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument