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Posts Tagged ‘joyce rothman’

Sunset Cove – Joyce Rothman

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

The calm is what strikes me after sitting here for a minute.  The only disruption is the constant noise from a cricket hiding somewhere to my right and the occasional squawking from a gull on the beach below this grassy knoll.  The water is calm except for the gentle current of the Agawam River as it meets the Bay.   The beach is free of waves as the tide slowly recedes.  Several gulls are combing the sands for a snack, only to cry with disappointment at their fruitless search.  The sky is clear with elongated light gray clouds that lay low above the trees across the cove.  A big black crow caws in the tree next to me and dog barks in answer from the confines of his house.  A gentle breeze stirs the small American flag secured to a boat moored in front of me.

I notice small channels of shallow water in the sand, left there by the shrinking tide.  So much activity, yet total peace pervades.  Familiar sounds lend ambience; sounds I often miss or dismiss in my busyness. A young boy on the beach contribute to the scene; first banging a rock on a concrete drain pipe peaking out from the sand, then in boredom; throwing the rock into the water.  A few brave gulls now stand in the water – so still – like hesitant waders, treading slowly into the cold.

My lunch time is over now but I’ll bring the peace of this time back to work with me for a good measure of serenity to the rest of my day.

Stillness by Joyce Rothman

Tuesday, January 19th, 2010

I’m a mom, grandmother of 2 adorable toddlers, RN, spiritual seeker and writer.   I moved from Boston to Onset – the “Gateway to Cape Cod”, 7 years ago and I’m fulfilling my long held dream of living in a village by a beautiful harbor. This is the perfect setting for the simplified life that I’ve wanted and that I continue to fine tune. I started journaling 28 years ago and many years later, through writing, I connected with spirit and began channeling divine wisdom.

I’m working on a memoir called “Making Sense of It All” which is a journaled account of how this guidance has nurtured, directed and comforted me on my life path.  I enjoy exploring other writing genres: poetry that expresses whatever needs expression in my life, at the time and nature writing with a spiritual/philosophical slant. I escape so totally into the scenery when I’m in nature, that I wanted to try my hand at capturing with words what an artist might with paint.  ‘One With Nature’ blends imagery with my spiritual growth. My blog is: wordsfromnature.wordpress.com.

STILLNESS

Everything is still in front of me, except the top of the windmill in the distance, visible above the tree line over by the canal and Mass Maritime. The empty expanse of sand in front of me is inhabited by a lone, sun bathing gull.  Even she doesn’t move.  The blues of the water change in the bay.  Closest to shore, it’s a sun lit iridescent powder blue, taking form like a large fat V lying on its side. In its middle, are royals, ceruleans, hints of purples and grays.  Only the surface moves slightly, giving the colors more definition.  The boathouse on the point across the bay sits empty in winter hibernation.  Snow lines the banks along its shore, still white and pure even though it’s a week old.  There is no activity to muddy it up. No foot prints to mar its smooth surface.  It just sits motionless– waiting to melt, and then refreeze.  All the moorings in the bay look lonely and unattached; each one motionless and white, separate from the others.  The Yacht club is closed for the season, hidden from view by stacked layers of shrink wrapped boats in dry dock.  The old Victorian homes that line the shore on the far side of the beach add a pastel quirkiness to the calm of the water.

Stillness is all I see as I view this beach in winter.  Stillness is all I feel.  It is a different kind of quiet for me – more pronounced than when I take quiet moments in a world of motion.   This is quiet that permeates me from the outside in.  Quiet that is born from the stillness of the scene I am within.  Nothing moves except that windmill in the distance and the solitary gull who takes flight every now and then. My insides feel the change.  They have been tranquilized naturally by being present here.  I too have been slowed, much to my great surprise.  Not fond of cold weather, I usually contract and withdraw from the elements.  I realize that in doing so, I’ve missed opportunities to be quieted by the winter landscape, from the outside in. But now I know.

“One with Nature” by Joyce Rothman

Friday, January 1st, 2010

I am surrounded by astounding natural beauty as I sit on my deck. Tall trees, mostly pine and oak, rise untamed from the conservation land behind my cedar fence. The leaves barely move now but earlier they spoke with the rustle of the sea wind. They sounded like the woods of Maine, even though they’re planted in Cape soil and sand. The sky above is so crisp it could be sliced cleanly by a sky writer. Void of clouds, planes or any intrusion, it is uniform in color, almost a luminescent blue. The birds must be readying for rest. They’ve taken to the trees where only an energetic few still chirp. The hummingbird couple retired after a ten minute visit to my red bee balm plants and yellow honeysuckle vine. The colors of my flowers need no artist. They are creations of nature. The breeze picks up for a moment and another hummingbird flits by.

In allowing myself to really see what is before me, not only are my eyes open but my mind is too. So much pours in now. Gratitude for this feast before me fills my senses and brings me peace; for it is here that I feel both the stillness and movement of nature and come to understand that this is how nature is. Just as the hummingbirds come and go, as the leaves rustle then stop, as the birds are silent, then sing, I too am changing. In quiet, sound is born. In stillness, action begins. In my sadness at not being in love, the energy of one to come begins. In my times of loneliness, a connection stirs. Since I too am part of nature, my movement is the same. What is not here now will soon appear, just as what is here now, may depart.

With this understanding comes acceptance of the flow of the natural world we are one with and I find faith; faith that if I’m in tune with the ways of nature and remain aware of its energy and movement, all that is not well will soon be and what has left, will again return. Maybe different but it will be new, recreated or reformed. But it will appear, if I keep my eyes, my heart, my mind and ears open. For if I don’t, it may pass me by and I’ll never even know that I had the chance to see, to love, to grab hold of. I’ve learned in this writing, that each change in nature is a reminder for me to watch, pay attention and keep faith that the winds of change are in constant motion, that it is how the cycles go and I will flow with it as it flows through me.

JoyceI’m a mom, grandmother of 2 adorable toddlers, RN, spiritual seeker and writer.   I moved from Boston to Onset – the “Gateway to Cape Cod”, 7 years ago and I’m fulfilling my long held dream of living in a village by a beautiful harbor. This is the perfect setting for the simplified life that I’ve wanted and that I continue to fine tune. I started journaling 28 years ago and many years later, through writing, I connected with spirit and began channeling divine wisdom.

I’m working on a memoir called “Making Sense of It All” which is a journaled account of how this guidance has nurtured, directed and comforted me on my life path.  I enjoy exploring other writing genres: poetry that expresses whatever needs expression in my life, at the time and nature writing with a spiritual/philosophical slant. I escape so totally into the scenery when I’m in nature, that I wanted to try my hand at capturing with words what an artist might with paint.  ‘One With Nature’ blends imagery with my spiritual growth. My blog is: wordsfromnature.wordpress.com.