Thirty-One Thresholds – A Tropical Pause in the Bolz Conservatory

December 3, 2014 by 3 Comments
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Bolz Conservatory © 2014 Bo Mackison

There is a place on the other side of town that always offers a magical experience when I cross its threshold.

No matter the weather outside, when I step through the heavy double doors into the Bolz Conservatory at Madison’s Olbrich Botanical Gardens, I enter a tropical paradise — exotic plants, orchids, koi ponds, meandering paths through thick greenery, rushing waterfalls, birds in flight.

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Walking Tree © 2014 Bo Mackison

A recipe for rejuvenation.

I find a bench. Take in my surroundings. Take in lots and lots of deep breaths. And relax.

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Koi Pond © 2014 Bo Mackison

The Conservatory has over 650 plants from the tropics and sub-tropics found throughout the world.

Once I am inside the 50 foot high glass pyramid, I get a reprieve from December’s cold and snow. Inside it is a balmy 80˚F today and the humidity is high, high enough to repeatedly fog my camera glass.

No worries.

I take a few photos, but mostly I sit and take in the warmth.

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Greenery © 2014 Bo Mackison

I spend most of my time simply absorbing the experience.

Truly, what pleasure there’s to be found in watching drops of moisture fall from wide green umbrella plants, in studying the camouflaged quail as they scuttle from one plant to the next, in noticing how brilliantly the orange koi glide through the rushing waters.

I re-discover the calming effects of studying just a few leaves, letting my eyes trace the pronounced veins on this deep green plant, noticing the puckered textures, droplets of water beading on the waxy surfaces.

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Orchid © 2014 Bo Mackison

What a great threshold to cross, what a great space to pause and rest.

It is mid-day and mid-week, and I am alone in the tropics for much of my visit. The gardens are typically a busy place teeming with visitors of all ages, all looking for a warm place, a break from wintry weather.

I consider myself especially fortunate as I sit amidst the plants and absorb the energy from the tropical space in solitude.

Threshold Two of my Thirty-One Thresholds Project is hugely rewarding.

 

Filed Under: Art of Healing, Photography Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Calling Forth Courage while Contemplating Lessons from Nature

October 28, 2014 by Leave a Comment
Bridge over Starkweather Creek

Bridge over Starkweather Creek © 2014 Bo Mackison

“If we surrendered
to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees.

Instead we entangle ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and confused…

If I did surrender to the earth’s intelligence?
Surrender to the earth itself, like a seed dispersed in autumns’ winds.

And drop upon the earth – dark, dank, ripe. Drop upon the earth
and settle in, as layers of leaves and autumn litter cover me, intact, protected.

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Crossing the Footbridge © 2014 Bo Mackison

So like children, we begin again…

to fall,
patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird has to do that
before he can fly.”

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

This seed of me, it embraces the darkness
and in the waning light, holding my stories of decay and decline,
enters a period where the only light source is that of inner reflection.

Embraces shadow as darkness makes ready the parts hungering for new life.
Waiting, waiting
in anticipation of unlimited possibilities.

Filed Under: Photography, Writing Practices Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Amidst the Water Lilies, the Sky, the Clouds…Replenishment

August 11, 2014 by 3 Comments
Water Lilies and Reflection

Water Lilies and Reflection © 2014 Bo Mackison

“What call thou solitude? Is not the earth with various living creatures, and the air replenished, and all these at thy command to come and play before thee?” ~ John Milton

Becoming aware of limits. Of the need for time to rest and replenish.

How much can I schedule in one day or one week or even in one month or one season? And when I have completed my work, how do I replenish, refill my well?

By slowing down. Leaving space in my day and my evening time. Planning, in necessary, twenty minutes of nothing time. Just observation and awareness time. No phone, Facebook, email checking, messaging. No television, music, sports in the background. No reading, writing, or ‘rithmetic!

“I cannot have enough of the hours of silence when nothing happens. When the clouds go by. When the trees say nothing. When the birds sing. I am completely addicted to the realization that just being there is enough.” ~ Thomas Merton

Day dream. Watch the outdoors through a window. Notice how the wind swirls through the leaves of nearby trees. Or how the clouds drift across the sky.

Better yet, connect with nature by heading outside.  Stand barefoot in the grass and connect with Mother Earth. Close your eyes and hear the sounds in the environment. Silence, when listened to closely, turns into chattering and trills, a bird symphony. Breezes rustle the dancing leaves in the trees and shrubs, and whispers through the taller grasses.

I have put slowness into my photography practice. A time when I purposely keep my camera is in its bag and I sit and just watch. Watching the water garden, I noticed dragonflies and damselflies flit across the reflection pond. Bees sipped nectar from the water lilies and a turtle glided underwater, occasionally breaking the surface of the water. Clouds slid across the pool, reflecting sky in water.

Replenishing my well.

Filed Under: Photography Tagged With: , , ,

Tenacity – Part II, Showing Up Every Day and Hanging on

August 6, 2014 by 2 Comments

Happiness is a Red Balloon

“There are times in life when people must know when not to let go. Balloons are designed to teach small children this.”
~ Terry Pratchett

This has been a summer of choosing to hang on, even through periods of wanting to let go, cut my losses, and retire to the Canary Islands.

Well, not quite. I’m definitely not retiring and I’m definitely not traveling to the Canary Islands, although I hear they are charming and have black, sandy beaches.

But I have had plenty of conversations with Arizona, as it continues to beckon me home.

I am home AND I am not home.

It’s a delicate – and difficult – balancing act to connect with two disparate parts of the country as my “home”. Even with strong, well-thought out reasons for being/living/working in the Midwest half the year and in the Southwest the other half, it can be a bit crazy-making at times.

“When you’re at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on.” ~ Theodore Roosevelt

So what could be better than to tie a knot at the end of a red balloon, and hang on while appreciating great moments in Wisconsin — walking the Capitol Square, shooting the flower-laden prairie. Be busy. Be still. Be in the present.

I’m keeping an eye out for red balloons!

After all, everything looks brighter when one’s guide is a big, red balloon!

Filed Under: Photography, Writing Practices Tagged With: , , , , ,

A Walk with Grace – While Struggling with Patience

June 11, 2014 by 2 Comments
A Walk around Strickers Pond

A Walk through the Woods © Bo Mackison

I am in wait mode, struggling with patience.

I walk through a wooded area heading towards Strickers Pond,
cross a street, a prairie grass restoration spreads before me,
the glacial pond is just beyond.

A Walk around Strickers Pond

Strickers Pond © 2014 Bo Mackison

I imagine walking with Grace around this pond.
I love the sound of that, the double meaning.
For I have an application in for a rescue dog,
a sweet four-year-old labrador/pointer mix.
Her name is Grace.

A Walk around Strickers Pond

Prairie Grasses © 2014 Bo Mackison

The process is excruciatingly long, understandable enough,
the rescue group wants to find the perfect home for Grace.
She was rescued from a Missouri shelter on what would have been her last day alive,
and transferred to a foster home in Wisconsin with only hours to spare.
(“She loved the car ride, by the way!)

But she’s been there since November,
and she needs a home of her own and I need a companion.

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Stickers Pond and American Lotus © 2104 Bo Mackison

We met, Grace and I, at her foster mom’s place.
Such a sweet girl, and still waiting for a home because, though she is a large breed dog,
she is small for her size, just forty pounds.
I find that a simply perfect quality. I find her quite perfect, too.

The questions in my head start.
Am I good enough? Will she be happy with me?
Will she like the desert as much as I do? Will she love to travel and hike and camp?
Am I good enough?

A Walk around Strickers Pond

Purple Martin Colony © 2014 Bo Mackison

She has the sweetest eyes, her look says I want to please.
Her foster mom gives her glowing reports. She sits and shakes hands, and looks at me.
Bright eyed, tail in perpetual wag.

I struggle with patience — on so many issues —
and I’m impatient with the wait for Grace as the adoption process slugs along.
Application, in and acknowleged. Now the papers are sent to “the board”
the vet is called, three references checked, and last, a home visit.
Another test of patience.

A Walk around Strickers Pond

Purple Martin and Colony © 2014 Bo Mackison

I’ve been searching for a companion dog since January,
and now that Grace and I have found each other,
I want her to be in a place she can call her own.
I’m seeking that same place – my place to call home.

A Walk around Strickers Pond

The Resting Place © 2014 Bo Mackison

Settling in is always a struggle after I have been in Arizona.
I know this. I expect it. I plan for it.
And still, I do the transition with many requests for the gift of grace.
For acceptance of what is, acceptance of what isn’t,
and the courage to embrace each day just as it is, just as I am.

Fits and starts, and ups and downs,
this practice of sitting with patience.
Of fitting in, of finding my place again.

I wait, and learn to wait with more ease as I practice.

All shall be well, I whisper. Yes, all shall be well.

Filed Under: Nature Explorations, Writing Practices Tagged With: , , , , , , ,
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