•bursting•

The world is bursting with wonder, and yet it’s the rare productivity guru who seems to have considered the possibility that the ultimate point of all our frenetic doing might be to experience more of that wonder.

Oliver Burkeman

The Professor never really seemed to care whether we figured out the right answer to a problem. He preferred our wild, desperate guesses to silence, and he was even more delighted when those guesses led to new problems that took us beyond the original one. He had a special feeling for what he called the “correct miscalculation,” for he believed that mistakes were often as revealing as the right answers.

Yoko Ogawa

These two very different books have converged in my heart recently. I’m not finished with Four Thousand Weeks, but the sense I’m getting from both books is THIS moment you are in is what you have. Be grateful. Relish it. Wallow in it. Enjoy. I absolutely adored the audiobook of The Housekeeper and The Professor. How would you live if you had 80 minutes of memory before it starts over? What really matters in a person’s life? What is happiness? Do we need more, more, more of anything? Just bursting with gratitude for THIS moment.

What’s on your heart today? I’d love to hear! ♥️🌿🌸🪺🪴🌷

“ever-widening circles” – Rilke

Inspired by 지민

higher than the sky strangers

worlds apart, working on our art

ripples move outward, crisscrossing

your artistry, smiles, emotion,

dedication challenges me

maybe my covid-fueled

“mild-midlife crisis”

fandom can trickle

down into new fuel

for motherhood

for wifedom

and for my purple-tinged,

idea-driven

lifedom.

~A.M Pine 💜🌲💜

Chocolate Chip

Love orbs, flat and sweet

Peace-bringers, sighs, smiles, sorries

Flour and sugar white flags.

A.M. Pine 💕

{Happy February! February brings my third annual participation in the World Peace Poets Postcard Fest and I hope to share some poems here, too!}💕💞💜♥️📝💌♥️💜💞💕

Monday Ponderings {♥️✨December 18th✨♥️}

Shadowed Hope ✨♥️

She stopped over the lonely, lovely little golden face, lifted up so hopefully and so bravely to the feeble drip, and cried out softly, “What is your name, little flower, for I never saw one like you before.” The tiny plant answered at once in a tone as golden as itself, “Behold me! My name is Acceptance-with-Joy.”

Hannah Hurnard, Hinds’ Feet on High Places

October In Review 🍂🌾🍁🎃🖤✨ ~ whole person work check-in

Happy chaos ✨♥️ and Happy November to you!

{previous whole person work check-ins}

Lord, it is time. The summer was so great.

Impose upon the sundials now your shadows

and round the meadows let the winds rotate.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Spiritual

I’ve been plugging away at my devotionals, Bible, reading, and journaling. I’ve really tried to concentrate and put a little more focus into it as I had gotten so distracted this summer during my meditation time. I’ve also noticed I’ve really enjoyed taking notes at church, helping me to concentrate. There’s so many things the Lord has been showing me, He is SO faithful! I’m excited about Advent readings soon.

Physical

I’m back in my food program called Bright Line Eating. It has been a bit bumpy, but October was the best so far! I’ve been texting a friend for accountability and that’s really helped. Writing my food down for each day helps with not making bad, emotional decisions. I’ve gone back to Instagram after a 10 month break for the purpose of using it as an encouragement to others, but also to keep myself accountable in many areas. I will watch carefully my usage. I’ve been re-listening to Rezoom by Susan Peirce Thompson and it’s been to good to refresh myself. I have to be purposeful about my health, so I can be of service to others.

My son took this picture! ♥️✨🍁🍂

Mental

I’m challenging myself to read a little deeper and I have some great buddy reads lined up in November. Dombey & Son, The Makioka Sisters, Countess Kate by Charlotte Mary Yonge, and Julie by Catherine Marshall. Nourishing food for my brain instead of “candy”. I’ve been reading more poetry, especially Emily Bronte, Rilke, and Sara Teasdale. I’m trying to write more poetry too, as a healthy, healing way to work through emotions and feelings (instead of eating and binging on media). I’m thinking on the tagline, “rage and grace”, that I saw on the artist RM’s Instagram a few days ago.

Emotional

This ties into the mental category too, while in reality, all of this is in relationship together, but I’ve been journaling, writing penpals, taking nature photos, and dipping into seasonal books. Taking drives in nature (the leaves!!!!) and keeping track of the moon phases has been a relaxing and enjoyable experience lately. God’s creation is a gift given for the taking if I just open my eyes and heart and RECEIVE. ♥️✨

Servanthood

Our homeschool activities are in full swing and it’s been good and stretching for me to give! 😬🥱😂 We’ve been getting back into better daily rhythms and I’m continually learning that servanthood can mean something as simple as shutting my mouth and listening. 😶🤐😂♥️

First snow, leaves in glass ✨🍁🍂♥️

Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied.

from The Beatitudes, Jesus

Light ✨

How about you? How are you doing? I’d love to chat in comments or drop me an email! 🌾🎃♥️🍄✨🍁🖤🍂💌📚 Blessings over your new November month ahead!

🍁🖤🍂Autumn delights…a blog series recommendation 🍁☕️🍂🖤

Hello 👋 friends! Happy Friday to you…it’s deliciously gray and rainy here today. We’re snuggling up with our homeschool books, tea, and possibly watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and maybe a little of BBC’s Return to Cranford later. I want to invite you to read this BEAUTIFUL blog series by Elizabeth over at ponderings from the inglenook. I’ve been so inspired and I’ve only read a few so far! Unfortunately, I’m unable to comment (technical difficulties?!), but I’m joining the conversation in my heart and overflowing with joy for the sweet simplicity and delight of her posts. Will you join me?

Art Begets Art 🖼️ Piece #5 ~ “Speaking Silence”

Inspired by RM’s song, “Wildflowers”

My life is silently watering

the flowers of my grave

long lasting work

slow-turned soil

roots cut, my place

dug deep

what’s growing on my grave?

my remains fertilize

what remains

is love the single

word etched

on my cement slab?

what’s leftover,

burned behind?

the swaying

rosebush, its pricks and petals

perfuming

the grave’s air

scent of life lingering

silence, speaking

of a flower bud

living on

A.M. Pine 🌲🖤

🌿Art Begets Art🌿 Piece #4

Original Painting by Lore Pemberton.
My friend protecting her plants.
Image originally from National Geographic 1976.

These three above selections were shared by my friend and this is what I think has been brewing for awhile in my heart, but started coming out as I simmered a bit over them. A collage of bits of letters, ephemera, and poetry for you! ♥️🌿

A mom thought 💭 balloon.

♥️Becoming ♥️

quilted by hand

mosaic shards

indigo dipped

puzzled over

collage pieced

~becoming~

sewn shut

stitched down

torn open

ironed flat

glued tight

~becoming~

rolled thin

poured out

mixed raw

washed clean

knit warm

~becoming~

idea inked

pencil erased

journal birthed

word soaked

being spoke

~becoming~

all together.

a bit of dust.

a bit of Divine.

swirl of a finger,

womenkind.

🌲🖤A.M. Pine🖤🌲

💕Art Begets Art💕 Piece #3

Still Life with spring flowers by Tove Jansson

From the southeast came a steady summer wind that whispered sleepily around the house and on across the island. She could hear the weather report on the radio inside the house. A corner of sunshine edged across the windowsill.

Tove Jansson, The Summerbook, p.27

~Tove~

weird and wacky, yes

brightly thoughtful, I am seen

sun, moomins, and me

~ 🌲A. M. Pine🌲

What about you? Who’s art do you feel “seen” by? Tove’s combination of beautiful writing, bright painting, and whimsical illustration is a feast for me. ♥️💕🌿

🖌️Art Begets Art🖌️ Piece #2

Snapshot sent from my friend Sam

~drift~

I took the stack of ‘not for sale’ notes

from the kitchen counter

I float freely, clutching them

wondering which of all

my memories

will get packed away

or $1.99’d at the yard sale

who puts monetary value

on mothering moments

tears, grubby-fingered gifts?

The sandy Texas whelk shell,

the lone star-shaped button

from that one Marshall’s skirt,

will these be for sale?

They haven’t even touched the shelves

of my tattered friends, dog-earred, wrinkled.

Is it all reduced to trash to be

talked and hashed over?

The Post-Its crumple a bit

in my filmy grip.

I peek out the sun-bleached,

red gingham curtains and see

a crowd of crow-clad mourners,

truly all that’s left behind that’s-truly true,

all that love huddled on that hill.

All the dregs, threads, life

will be packed up, garbage-bagged.

The Post-Its flutter to the floor.

I’m back in my pine box.

Songs being sung.

Soul not sold, bought with blood,

drifting off.

Memories Post-It-seared on Souls.

Not for sale, ever.

~A.M. Pine

{If you are interested, read here for this series Piece #1 and origin story.}