A long time ago I found an artist’s blog. Her poignant pieces of art, she called “leafology” … the blog is no longer online and I can’t find any indication of it ever being there. That is sad because I’d like to let this artist know how profoundly her work touched me. So if she sees this, I hope she will smile realizing the impact her art had on at least one soul.
I approach this blogging for my own purposes. It would be a bonus if it touches you, dear reader. But clearly as I sit here wrestling and wrangling words into some sort of coherence, I realize that this is for me. I need to strike an authentic chord deep within my own spirit.
I can’t think of a better name for this newest phase of my blogging, but writing (and mostly poetry) therapy. I’m presently working with Susan Furness of Write Path and I would highly recommend this method of going deep. I’m being brave; I’m sharing my journey. Thanks for hiking alongside me for a bit.
I have interpreted “leafology” as the “theology of trees” and for that I have Wendell Berry to thank.
In his book of poetry entitled “A Timbered Choir” which is subtitled “The Sabbath Poems” he begins with this…
“I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.”
until he concludes this particular poem named “I” (the Roman numeral 1)
“After days of labor,
mute in my consternations,
I hear my song at last,
and I sing it. As we sing,
the day turns, the trees move.”
This is what brought me here so long ago. I kept returning. We kept returning. Until we could not leave. And now I call this place home.
I’ve been forgetting that.
I’ve been lost in what things “should” be.
I’m trying to find my way back home.
To find my self.
To stop and rest…
To practice Sabbath keeping.
Poetry is helping.
More on that later.