by ingrid on February 5, 2010
You, Love, are my earthly joy,
My village and my song,
My reason, my belonging,
And the good that makes me strong.
With your arms around me
My heart knows blessings, blessed.
With you here beside me
Is how I love life best.
~Ingrid
I love you like a fiddle tune.
I love you like a jig.
I love you like the month of June.
I love you like a fig.
I love you like a hoppy brew.
And a warm down feather bed.
I love you like a dream come true
And berries and butter and bread….
( Ingrid’s note: I don’t actually love figs…but it went so well with jig. Now my secret is out, I promise I am still sincere. … These wonderful candleholders are made by The Mad Potter on Martha’s Vineyard. The video below was sent to me by my friend Heather. It’s so joyful and free and, well, it made me cry happy tears.)
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by ingrid on May 19, 2009
Lately I have been asking myself, “to live quietly, and in love - is that enough?” I think, for me, that it may be. The more I settle into living quietly and in love, and determine that indeed it is enough- the more happy, content, peaceful I feel. Living quietly and in love I may be a poet, wife, mother, artist, lover of the spiritual life, gardener, tinkerer, sheet changer, dish washer, errander, generous friend - “Living quietly and in Love” seems to create an envelope of grace around all I do, feel, and am throughout the day. It is like finding permission to breathe, and to give one’s heart to every moment. - less striving, less argument.
This morning I caught the fragrance of the lilacs while taking out the compost to the bin- lilacs we dreamed and planted years ago which are finally blooming now. On Saturday Jonah and I transplanted the strawberries, and I imagined Bella enjoying their sweetness. As we survey our fruit trees, we see that there will be pears and apricots in addition to the apples, raspberries, and peaches.
All that we have planted is growing, stretching down roots into the soil, branches reaching up to the sky, drawing the heavens down…
by ingrid on April 30, 2009
Visiting the castle (tower) was magnificent. Every window had a view. Perhaps there will be a festival there one day, with costumes, music, food…
by ingrid on April 17, 2009
“If you can dream it, you can do it.” ~Walt Disney
For years now, when asked what she wanted to do when she grew up, my daughter Rose would share a vision she had of a castle. In this castle, she saw a school where people could come and stay, and where they would dress in Medieval or Renaissance costumes while learning about life in that time period. Rose has been passionately sewing costumes and wearing them for as long as we can remember. For years I have watched my daughter, now nearly 17, describe this fantastical vision to people, while they did their best not to reveal their cynicism. I myself worried about this, but would repeat, “If you can dream it, you can do it.” Who am I to say what is or isn’t possible?
Next week we are flying to Florence Italy to visit with my father-in-law. We are also going to go see the castle pictured above. As it turns out, Jonah met its owner on a school trip in February. When he heard she owned a castle, he mentioned Rose’s dream. The owner’s eyes lit up. Apparently she has been having a very similar vision for several years. She and Rose are going to meet. Perhaps just to share stories ~ to nurture each other’s dreams. Perhaps she will have Rose sew costumes for her. No matter what happens, we have all begun to be even firmer believers in visions and dreams, and that anything is possible.
A friend of mine called me this morning to say I had to watch this youtube video of Britain’s Got Talent. She and I cried together years ago over the Paul Potts video. Well, Britain’s done it again. If you haven’t seen this one yet, Enjoy. Susan Boyle sings I have a Dream.
And you might want to ask yourself, “What Do I Dream?”
by ingrid on February 22, 2009
This video is sheer idealistic inspirational pleasure- The Seva Cafe in India, an experiment in “Pay it Forward” where folks are invited to pay from their hearts, and, in a sense, be paying for the next guest’s meal.
by ingrid on January 17, 2009
Courtyard, evening,
my soul, the moon…
noisy village just
beyond the gate.
Patchworks of silk puddles~
a gift from visiting rain…
Loose stones, brief epiphanies,
wild dogs roaming free…
Bells ring, summoning,
infinite holy song…
Shadows, flames in lanterns,
windows, open doors…
All things merge, mingle,
interweave and sway.
Cooking aromas, soft wind,
fireflies, deities, stars…
Jasmine, curry, cotton,
wine and a few sweets…
In the field of unfathomed faith,
Your caravan awaits.
Lord, I humbly pray,
be patient with me, please,
as I count again my treasures ~
the fleeting contents of my heart…
~Ingrid
from the chapb00k, Conversing With The Holy
by ingrid on January 5, 2009
Tea Lane Farm, Middle Road
Poem: …And I dreamed
…and I dreamed
of timelessness and pleasure~
amorous companions
in an eternal embrace.
Each a hollow wind
without the other.
…and as the sun pushed up
beyond the trees,
I felt myself longing
not to arise
in the usual way.
And so I lingered for a while
within the dream
and wondered how to pull its song
like mist into the morning…
~Ingrid
