Abundance

I’m sitting at a picnic table at the edge of the sea. It’s a beautiful sunny day, sweetened by the songs of finches and the scent of lilacs and beach roses. The gulls are splashing in the pools that form at low tide. From where I sit I can see the markers for more than forty lobster traps.

A dozen common eiders swim toward shore in a row so straight they put the Rockettes to shame. This is Pemaquid Point, one of perhaps a hundred peninsulas that decorate the Maine coastline like fringe on a flapper’s dress. I am surrounded by abundance.

I owe this glorious experience to the generosity of a prosperous friend who is renting this cottage and has given it to me for the week. Chris is the embodiment of my favorite word - abundance. The more money he makes, the more he gives away to other people. The more money he makes, the more he does for others.

Now, you may think, well sure, he has money so he can afford to be generous. But that’s where you’d be mistaken. Chris is not generous because he has money; he’s generous because that’s who he is. It is his nature. Embedded in his character is the spirit of abundance, the expression of which is generosity. People like Chris always have a sense that there's plenty to go around. They are human cornucopias.

Sadly, we all know wealthy people who’d never give a nickel to a beggar. But hoarding has never led to happiness. My friend Chris is always smiling, and his joyous disposition is contagious.

Abundance is an attitude. It’s not about money or even material goods necessarily. It’s about sharing, giving away, whatever it is you have to offer. It comes from knowing that we all have gifts that someone else needs, and there’s no better way to feel connected to other people and to the planet itself than to share your gifts.

Thanks Chris for being who you are.

Copyright 2008 starfishdoc

Time Out For Fish

I have many serious things to write about and that will soon follow. But right now I'm giving myself (and you) a break from the serious to attend to the whimsical.

That I am a serious quilter is no surprise to readers. But I've recently become a whimsical quilter, and I'm finding that to be quite a different and important experience.

Early this month, I attended a lecture and slide/trunk show by artist, Susan Carlson, who specializes in fabric collages. I was so taken by her work that I bought her book and followed her guidelines to make a fabric collage fish. I say "guidelines," because Susan isn't fond of "rules." She breaks all the rules perpetrated by the quilt nazis. She even glues pieces of fabric together. (No stitching? Mon dieu!)

All of my quilting forays to date have been satisfying. But this was satisfying in a new way. As I auditioned little pieces of fabric to represent fin and tail and eye, I heard myself laughing out loud at the results. I've never laughed while quilting before.

Look closely at the fish's mouth. That was my greatest victory. I found a single piece of fabric that had just the right shape to it. On its original cloth (in another life, you might say), it was the pant leg of a man in a tribal scene. One thing you learn from Susan is to look at fabric in a whole new way.

So what's all this have to do with you? Well, a few things. (I make the promise here and now that if this blog ever becomes all about me and offers you nothing, it will be time for me to stop. And I will.)

First, throw out most of the rules. If there are ten rules, it's likely that you really need only one or two of them. Failing to question the prevailing wisdom (the rules) will lead you straight to mediocrity.

Second, put whimsy into your life. Something or someone needs to tickle your funny bone (or fish scales) every day. Laughter is indeed the best medicine for maintaining mental health.

Finally, and most importantly, learn to look at things with fresh eyes. Go find the fish mouth in the pant leg of life.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007