Fill it with Gratitude

There’s a lot of emphasis on commercialism during the holiday season ~ not that we’re intentionally insensitive to the meaning of Christmas or that we’re shallow, materialistic creatures, but that we want to give.

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We want to make others happy with our gifts, we want our children to squeal with delight, our family and friends to appreciate the thoughtfulness of a special something we’ve picked out especially for them. It’s actually a lovely tradition begun with a certain three kings bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, just perhaps gone a little wild.

With that in mind, I’m feeling pretty pleased with my choice of “gift” for the guests of my annual holiday gathering this year. My daughter and I started our own gratitude jars a little less than a year ago (it’s almost time to open them up and look inside!), and I thought, hmmm… yes, a perfect gift to make for our friends. Homemade, fun and constructive to boot.

I like imagining how they’ll be filled, all those pieces of folded-up paper with notes scrawled about people, things and moments they’ll be grateful for during the year ahead.

It’s a fairly well-respected concept that gratitude reaps harmony; it elevates our spirit and sense of inner peace, opens the gates for greater abundance. I’m pretty sure all that might even be scientifically based ~ something physiological happens that changes our chemical makeup in a positive way. But whether it is or isn’t a precisely proven fact, one thing I know for sure is that genuine appreciation and feelings of gratitude are uplifting. That writing them down makes the vibration linger longer, and re-reading them allows you to feel grateful all over again.

There’s only good to be had from this simple exercise. And as it’s been said, “There is always, always, something to be grateful for.”

So I hope they use their little jars, well and often. :  )

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Poetry as Ruler of the World

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“I say, ‘Get me some poets as managers.’ Poets are our original systems thinkers. They contemplate the world in which we live and feel obligated to interpret, and give expression to it in a way that makes the reader understand how that world runs. Poets, those unheralded systems thinkers, are our true digital thinkers. It is from their midst that I believe we will draw tomorrow’s new business leaders.” ~ Sidney Harman, CEO Multimillionaire of a stereo components company”
― Daniel H. Pink

I stumbled upon this quote this morning, and it reminded me that when I read Daniel Pink’s “A Whole New Mind” a few years back, I was (given what I do) thrilled at his theory that right-brainers will rule the future. There’s a place for the creative, the innovative, the out-of-the-box thinker ~ more than ever! And not just any place, but a valued place. And not just a “dusting off the weariness of life” kind of valuable (although that’s important!), but a place that moves, shakes and shapes our world.

Of course, we all have elements of both; right and left brains. And perhaps because of a genetic blend making me feel fairly balanced in that department, I dislike labeling ~ or assuming, for example, that if someone is logical they aren’t creative, or someone who’s creative can’t be logical, because that’s simply not true. We have tendencies towards one or the other, most definitely, whether innate or learned, but both aspects reside in most people’s brains to some degree, and I presume for good reason. (So when my very creative daughter complains about having to learn Math, I insist that she needs to exercise that part of her brain to stay healthy and wise and grounded, and not end up with both head and feet in the clouds. “Use it or lose it” has real meaning here.)

That said, and putting aside my own personal glee at the prospect of “right brains” leading the future, the theory does have merit, especially when you consider how many previously human-held jobs have been replaced by increasingly efficient, computerized functions – freeing up some of us to be more creative and others to flounder for their bearings.

And while I’m not completely convinced that poets should be managers, I am convinced that there’s enormous opportunity for unlocking the floodgates of our ingenuity when more menial tasks are automated. And I think most people perform better when they’re inspired, rather than watching a clock, regardless if they’re mathematically or artistically driven ~ both of which can be dry or highly creative functions, depending on any given person’s combination of atoms and molecules, environment, and spirit.

To do anything well, to grow, stretch boundaries, reach the moon  ~ to live better ~ we need to think big and welcome a fusion of the intuitive with the intellect. And really, it’s always been so, when great things have been achieved, but maybe we’ll honor it more. Maybe poetry will change the world!

So why not change even today ~ open your mind to the galaxy, and get to work.

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Holiday Goodies from Saxton Studio

It’s that magical, hectic, gift-giving time of year! And again I add my voice to the chorus of choices, with gifts about reading and imagination.

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I’m truly grateful – and pleased as punch – that my books are enjoyed and continue to sell year after year, and I extend a heartfelt Thank You to all of you who’ve supported my efforts!

If you know anyone else who might like to give or receive these books and products, please feel free to share the love and pass this post along. To purchase, a click on the image above will take you to my Amazon Author page. Links to individual books and related gifts are listed on my blog’s Shop page!

Wishing you every blessing this holiday season.
Don’t forget to feel the magic!
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Day is Done

Dark Sky / © Patricia Saxton

Dark Sky / © Patricia Saxton

The Day is Done
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

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Twelve Months of Flowers

If only it were true. Unless you count holly berries, there’s really not much in the way of floral color in northeast winter months.

But “Twelve Months of Flowers” can be had via art prints, from the series published 1n 1730 by renowned British horticulturist and author Robert Furber. Mr. Furber’s name is highly attributed to these exquisite prints, and while I’m grateful that he had the insight, substantial research and knowledge (and, no doubt, the funds) to produce the collection, I’m mostly interested in the artistry.

We had two of these prints hanging in our dining room during my growing-up years – one May, one November, the months of my parent’s birthdays. Admired by all, they adorned a modest space with a rich, subtle elegance, (and now that I think of it, may have had an influence on my own interest in drawing things botanical) ~ but in all those years, while we probably did, I don’t remember talking about the artist. Regardless, for some reason they lodged in my mind’s eye today ~ perhaps an unconscious nod to my parent’s wedding anniversary? ~ so I went looking.

First of all, they are hand-colored engravings, produced by English engraver Henry Fletcher from paintings of Flemish-born artist Pieter Casteels . (They also produced an equally stunning second series, Twelve Months of Fruits.) Each work is a glorious detail of plants in seasonal bloom, with each plant numbered, and, at the time, a list of the corresponding names. More than 400 plant species were featured. This was no small project.

And so a few centuries later, I thank them ~ all three of them: Furber, Fletcher and Casteels ~ for their fine, luscious collaboration of study, talent and skill. They are so beautiful, I might even venture to call them a labor of love. But that’s what art is.

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Storytelling and Why We Create

Why do we paint? Or write, or play an instrument or dance? Because we have to. Because if we don’t, we’ll become cranky and irritable. We’ll be rotten company not only for others but ourselves.

Some say it’s because they have a message or a moral or a special meaning to it, but I say it’s instinct. There’s a story that needs telling, and we happen to be the vessels. It’s gut. It’s primal. Like eating or sleeping or hugging. You just gotta do it. It’s for survival of the spirit.

So this is for all who answer that call. The poets, novelists, essayists, and scriptwriters; for the orators, artists and musicians; for all who move our hearts and elevate our minds, take us to new worlds, teach us new ways of thought, bring us tears, laughter, wisdom and peace with the richness of their expression, the telling of stories ~ blessed are the storytellers.  Please, keep doing what you’re doing. ~ Patricia

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The Humble Pumpkin

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My daughter went to a local farm and came home with a little tiny pumpkin. (This is what happens when one is spending one’s own hard-earned money ~ the great big pumpkin is no longer so important!) Of course it’s terribly cute, the way small things are. And it brought to mind a vision of the sprawling pumpkin patch… nature’s bounty, plump and happy, and I thought  – not for the first time but maybe the thousandth, which (to me) makes it even more intriguing – what a wonder it is, this mystery called life. What a wonder! ~ this indestructible power of creativity. Born each day in all things, all creatures, each and every one of us; every season, ever-present, renewing, recycling, rebellious against all odds.

And there it is, this little pumpkin – one of millions of simple, round, mostly orange and sometimes amusing members of the fruit family (a berry, in fact – who knew?!), triggering thoughts of grandeur! Silly ~ maybe so, but I allow my mind its folly, and see them rambling lazily in autumn fields, these brightly colored smile-bringers, sculptures in waiting,  deceptive hosts to uncountable swarms of life-giving seeds and hundreds of lip-smacking pies, and for a moment my thoughts free-fall in wonder at this stuff of life. Because it is, really, pretty darn amazing.
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Rituals

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Yesterday was a perfect east coast Indian summer kind of day. Bright, warm sun, the slightest soft breeze, the crisp scent of Autumn in the air, colors poised to burst. I couldn’t let it pass without being IN it for a while, so I found a way to bask and be productive at the same time (which is pretty much ideal in my book).

How it went was that one of my projects required some simple watercolor work, so – lightbulb moment! – I gathered my wares and took them outside. And while I was setting up my mini-outdoor studio, I quietly reveled in what I recognized as a ritual.  A lovely order of steps taken, each part of the process, each one savored. In this case, the table moved and cleared of leaves, chair set in the right light, paints out of their box – all their lovely tones smiling up at me –  paper and water placed just so, brushes laid out, noticing how the sun made them sparkle.

This was my ritual; small and sweet. Because, of course, rituals aren’t defined by scale. There are the very grand ceremonial occasions of kings and queens and pope-doms; there are sacred rituals under the full moon. But there are ordinary, every day rituals too ~ rituals that are simply an appreciative way of doing things. Acts that allow space for both gratitude of the moment and your own participation in the creative process. That cause time to pass more gracefully, for things to unfold rather than hurriedly dumped. There’s a time for that too – the quick pulling together, plopping down, instant shifting. And I could have easily done that with my paints yesterday – the end result was relatively simple, and wouldn’t take long. But it felt so much better than rushing to get the job done.

When making the (truly) small, conscious effort to be part of each step, there’s this wonderful sense of being present, being aware of the interplay of yourself and the elements and this sort of fabric you’re weaving with your actions, thoughts and intentions.

In our go-go-go world, we don’t always stop for ritual; we forget. We do one thing and move on. Done. Crossed off the list. On to the next. But it can be so very simple to include a touch of ceremony, and can make whatever task or event or experience more rich and more enjoyable. Preparing a meal. Setting the table. Folding towels. (I know, I might be stretching it a little, and sure, there are some chores you just want to get through ~ but it’s true in more cases than not.) Rather than just blindly “doing”, bring the senses into it. Breathe between steps. Make it a pleasure. Add a flourish of ritual. :  )

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Three Friends, Three Books

It just so happens that I am fortunate enough to have some gifted friends. And three of those friends recently published their own first books ~ which, also,  just so happen to be quite good. So I thought I’d give them a shout out, because I’m both proud of their work and proud to know them. (If any of you are then inclined to read their books, all the better for everyone involved!)

Paul Huckelberry / An Accidental Book

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I didn’t know Paul until he followed up on a referral to use both my graphic design and editing services ~ which he (very wisely :  ) ) decided to invest in. So, yes, I am particularly biased in my review of this book, but I do know the book intimately ~ line by line, in fact, and cover design, too ~ and my assessment is honest. (Those who know me or my work, know that I can be a demanding critic, aiming for the best possible result with the highest quality representation.) And with that I’ll say that Paul is a writer who’d been masquerading as a well-resepcted engineer for many years ~ and write well he does in this lively collection of life stories ranging from love to politics, religion, greed, food on the table, self-worth, and generally a whole lot of things that seem to matter in this life we live. Without prescribing or preaching, he shares, and through that, gems of wisdom shine.

Alice / Wonderland’s Teatray, Musings and a Few Unchallengeable Truths

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Over the past year, I have come to know and absolutely delight in this deep-thinking, witty, well-lived and wonderfully wise soul  ~ and her first book is all of that as well.  It’s a short, hauntingly real and beautifully composed sharing of life lessons learned, in ways that question, soothe, uplift and scratch at the very core of our spirit. She digs deep effortlessly and comes out on the other side brighter and wiser, refreshingly touching the reader’s life in the process.

Heather McCloskey Beck / Take the Leap

taketheleapI’m pretty sure Heather and I have known each other in many lifetimes, as there was an almost instant “recognition” of one another across the miles, well before we met in person. We also share an uncannily similar approach to life, as well as a passion for art, creativity, peace and doing what you love ~ the latter of which, Heather is on a mission to help infuse into as many souls as possible  So, when reading this lovely, thoughtful book, I nodded my head a lot, and found myself silently cheering her on, as well as cheering on all those who will undoubtedly be uplifted and motivated by her beautiful, compelling brand of inspiration.

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