AN INTERIOR LIFE JOURNEY by Sheila Webster

 

I declared this as my beach in ancient times.

At the end of a small southern Saskatchewan Lake,

I rest on silent silky sand.

Shorebirds call in twilight,

familiar languages I have heard.

Summer solace.

Often solo I crave 

the cacophony of nature

and silence of man.

The land is owned perhaps

by more than myself.

I don't see it this way,

in my interior life it is mine.

I brave bracken, weeds, old barb wire.

My own fears, 

and interior terrors.

To claim this moment,

of time.

In it,

I am - 

Past, Present and Future

tenses of myself.

The sand

and prairie wind

driven surf

are mine.

They restore my soul.

Like endless grains of sand

I count my daily gratitudes.

Few friendships

are sacred enough to share

this spot, but by firelight

in twilight I have.

Silent we listen

to the echo of ourselves

driven by the desire

for peace and perfection.

so is the interior journey

that feeds 

my writer's soul...

pictures taken June 25, 2021

Spirit Beach exists at the end of a lake

but in name only in my interior life

CRAVING CHANGE - by Sheila Webster

 

Adaptive Creativity

I always love the writers of the gospels and how they show that Jesus was never stuck in a mold even when healing people. There were no abracadabra moments where magic words were said and the miracle was conjured up by recipe or rote.

It was always a creative response to the person before him and I believe the audience around them. What would it take to call forth faith or life in the events as they unfolded at that particular time, in that particular culture? Whether it was words in the sand, water for the soul, a dip in a river or mud in the eye it was an unbelievably creative moment in that person’s life where they had to choose to adapt to receive the miracle they desired.

As a counsellor especially with people with addictions or long term depression I try and get them to use common sense and senses to bring about change. What did their gut say moments before something negative happened,? Can they take a different route home and focus on the ordinary or extraordinary details around them in the landscape. Does a tortilla chips crunch take their mind off the craving or a teaspoon of peanut butter slowly savored bring about a small change? Does the fragrance of something bring peace in the midst of crisis?

In our writing lives is it really any different? I don’t believe in writers block, no matter how much it has been written about. I believe people are tired, weary or exhausted in circumstances, or they have stared at the same thing for too long – whether it be their pen, screen or wall.

Calling on the beauty in life helps us adapt our creativity. It shows us that a million snowflakes or trees are not the same – ever.  There is always some new way to adapt to the circumstances creatively change the stories that need to be told.

In the first photo a single rose is highlighted against the frozen minus forty stark Saskatchewan landscape. The photo can help me remember both the beauty of a surprise rose, a frosty day or my beloved Saskatchewan landscapes. It brings beauty to an ordinary day when I MAYBE was not keen on helping a neighbor boost their vehicle again in frigid temperatures.

The last photo is of an artistic rendering of a little girl who was wounded by unsavory people commissioned by myself for a fundraiser to help address human trafficking. Over the years prints of this same girl have been creatively adapted for other occasions, this rendering can have alternate meanings or purposes depending on the recipient or audience.

To me adaptive creativity is all of this - responding creativity to what is encountered in everyday life or ministry.