Remember “feeling groovy?”
This aging hippie certainly does.
Groovy is that “mellow yellow” mood so celebrated in the ‘60s. Groovy could be chemically induced tripping in your friend’s, Mary Jane’s basement.
Or groovy could be musically induced, mind melding with the vinyl grooves of your favorite LPs. (Joni Mitchell being my drug of choice!)
But the hippie dippiest way to get your groove on was by “getting back to nature”.
Not too much nature, mind you, but just enough nature to pay quick homage to Mother Earth. Planting some vegetables, growing some “herbs”, skinny-dipping in the lake.
More recently, I got back to nature again, on retreat at Shrine Mont, with the good folks of Emmanuel on High, where, Margaret Wohler, a gifted naturalist and artist at Huntley Meadows Wildlife preserve, introduced us to the lost art of illustration.
Like “Lost Children in the Woods” she introduced us to “The Forest Unseen”.
Drawing, she said, helps us to pay attention. It helps us to slow way down. And her “way” was drawn out with lots and lots of extra “a’s”. We each got an art kit with a sketchpad and pencils.
“All you need are five basic shapes: a circle, a dot, a line, an angle, and a curve.”, Margaret said.
“Choose a spot to sit. Jot down the location, date, time, temperature, cloud cover. Close your eyes and listen for just a minute – 60 seconds. Then open your eyes and list everything you heard: birds, honking horns, wind in the trees, screaming babies.”
“Draw the big stuff first, then the little things.”
“Stay put. Look up. Look around you. The more you stay put the more you see. The more you see, the deeper you will go. The deeper you go, the slower you will go. And the more slow you go, the more you will know — not just about what’s is front of you – -but the more you will know about what’s going on inside you.”
(At least that is what I heard Margaret say.)
And so I sat for an hour in the woods, drawing trees and rusted out, old, discarded bathtubs — meditating and feeling groovy.
Recently this Celtic Warrior Woman trained to take on the three-day Warrior Challenge in The Patriot Running Festival in Williamsburg. And seriously train I did: walking up to 37 plus miles a week for 12 weeks for the Friday 5K, Saturday 8K, and Sunday 1/2 marathon.
That Friday morning, waiting for the Amtrak train to take me south, I sat down with my sketchpad for just the second time since Shrine Mont.
Now I have sat in this Civil War era station a bazillion times, idly and obsessively checking my phone, waiting on trains that rarely arrive on time. But this time, in the most mundane of places here I was – sketchpad in lap and pencil in hand.
I looked up and noticed the enormous, glass inset doors that lead to the tracks. So gorgeous, I had never noticed just how lovely they were – with simple, geometric patterns, arches, scalloped edges, and lots of rectangles.
I can draw this!
I had an hour’s wait for my train and thought sketching the doors would be a pleasant ten-minute diversion – maybe fifteen, max. In fact, however, I got into a groove and it turned into a sixty minute, mellow, mindful meditation.
First I sketched the doors, then the windows, the lanterns, the tracks and the buildings beyond, then the trees through the glass, the travellers on their way, their rolling bags and backpacks– all framed by those lovely doors – that I had so long ignored.
On the other end, my dear, dear friend, Pam picked me up in Williamsburg. She and I have been the best of friends since our seminary days – over twenty years. Very different people, we very much enjoy each other’s company. We gossip, laugh, shop, watch chick flicks, catch up, and confess all that is going on in our divergent worlds.
And best of all, we do the latter, floating in her pool.
The weekend was pretty well planned around my three day’s walking the Patriot Running Event — and Pam was charioteer-ing me wherever I needed to go. (Thank you, Pam!) But between the races, the two of us planned to pack in as much playtime as we possibly could.
So before I went, I gave myself permission — that while I was indeed getting my warrior on – it was perfectly okay to opt out of any or all parts of the Warrior Challenge.
Too much “works” and not enough “grace” can make Joani – a manic, manic soul.
So all three days we floated, floated in the pool — lazy and stretched out in the sun, gazing up at blue skies, listening to the birds and the wind in the trees, listening to the murmuring of the filter motor and the rumbling of lawn mowers.
And best of all, floating with my best of friends, Pam and I talked and talked and talked. And just as lovely, we floated comfortably in silence.
So slow, so blissfully slow.
Slowing down and feeling groovy.
So I walked the 5K on Friday. Yea!!
I walked the 8K on Saturday. Yea!!
And yes, I have the medals to prove it (though one is made of plastic!).
And then on Sunday, I chose Sabbath time. Not church per se – but St Mattress in-the-Springs.
I slept in, stayed in my pajamas until 10 o’clock, drinking coffee with my friend, went to brunch at 11, came home and slipped into my swimsuit, slathered on the SPF 100 –
And floated, floated, floated – my ½ marathon – floating in Pam’s pool.
My mania calmed.
My mood lightened.
My outlook brightened.
My spirit lifted.
My soul restored.
God, in Her Heaven, all right with my world.
Slow, slow, so slowed down.
Kicking down my cobblestones.
Slow down, friends, don’t move too fast. God wants you to make your morning last. And just like Her — on that seventh day — take some sabbath time and get some rest. The world can revolve without you — at least for a little while.
Thanks be to God.