attention Archives - Laurie Klein, Scribe

Relax into the Impossible

by Laurie Klein 13 Chiming In

“Relax” — perhaps not your first title for this image.

How long has this homely garden gnome kissed the dirt? Someone seems pretty lax in their landscaping.

Re: Lax.

Lax can mean slipshod. Slapdash.

Lax also denotes loosened muscles and limbs. Deepened ease.

Perhaps it’s a continuum?

Test Case.

A dear friend is throwing a party. She wants my help.

Guests will retell their conversion experience, 3 minutes per person.

An artist assigned to each table will take notes on their stories.

~20 minutes for listening
~25 minutes to create something, in response
~5 minutes to present it … publicly

Large room, long guest list.

Her request—seemingly impossible—suggests … extraordinary possibility.

Can it be done?

Keen attention and presence must marry crunch-time spontaneity.

Seat-of-the-pants is not how I roll.

Relax … how?

The party-room vibrates with expectation.

Pacing, I roll my neck and shoulders. Must lighten up, loosen my mind, let the nerves go lax.

I’d drop right now like a jazz dancer, collapse face-down, if I could, like the garden gnome—preferably under a table—let everyone carry on without me.

Relax. Now.

Gnome comes from an ancient Greek word, meaning “to know.” Despite my fear, I know grace has my back.

I choose a table. Memorable stories unspool.

Afterward, we artists retreat with our notes to another room while the guests eat.

Help me help me help me

25 minutes evaporate.

Showtime.

I cradle my efforts: the distillation of 5 stories rich with surprise and hope, rife with my cross-outs, arrows, and asterisks. My version is slapdash, yet deeply felt.

I teach the crowd the refrain, and we speak it aloud between each section:

“You were born from God’s longing. And here you are.”

They hear it. I hear it. Together, we relax into the impossible.

GNOME

What is a face plant but a dance,
staged alongside possible ruin,
another garden-variety hero,
toppled, among the shrubs,
clownish, inept. Unarmed.
Face-down is one nosedive
prayer embodies: the sudden
gravity, slapstick’s kissing cousin.
Practice pratfalls. Lean into the spill,
each bruise an inside turn, toward grace.

+++

“Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” —Rumi

What helps you relax into the impossible?

Should you wish to create a similar celebration:
My friend’s O Holy Night Party gathered seasoned dancers, writers, artists, a table maven, and a musician; great food, beautifully presented; stunning stories, each teller newly-luminous in remembrance, which happens when we recount aloud moments that changed everything.

“You were born from God’s longing.” Peter G. van Breeman, God Who Won’t Let Go
“Relax into the impossible.” Susan Cowger

*No gnomes were harmed in the making of this post.

Focus: What Does It Take to Maintain It?

by Laurie Klein 12 Chiming In

Focus so easily fractures.

At day’s end, near midnight, I’m reading The Attentive Life when it seems like the chair beneath me … shifts.

I shrug, only to drop the book at the next eerie movement—a sinking, sickish feeling, like taking a dip in the road too fast.

Then … nothing.

My imagination?

Another lurch, followed by shudders. It feels like an alpine chairlift revving away from the platform. Electricity zings in my shinbones, gooses my spine.

What on earth? [Read more…]

Island Centerpiece, Soul Download

by Laurie Klein 40 Chiming In

Centerpiece:

A landing place for the jaded gaze

A scenic interruption of the mundane

A visual invitation

For 10 glorious days Maui offered us multiple, exotic cameos (and a perfect getaway despite coming home pale as ever, 3 pounds heavier).

A centerpiece can surprise or transport us, like these top-lit, dream-state jellyfish.

A centerpiece can appear anywhere, at any time, arresting our attention, like these patterns formed by loosening plastic film on window panes.

For me, creating a centerpiece feels like making an altar. It awakens the senses. Lifts the spirit. Mom taught me this.

A “found” centerpiece, like these photos, offers unique spontaneous pleasures—no work involved.

Best of all, we don’t need a tropical island to create an island of calm in our day.

What’s in a name?

Centerpiece — imagination toys with the spelling:

Scenter piece
Sent her peace
Centaur peas

I grin, yet feel a small ache. Could this be code for something worth naming?

For centuries spiritual seekers have zeroed in on a word or phrase they long to deeply experience.

A verbal centerpiece.

I’m describing a shirt-tail cousin to Lectio Divina, the monastic practice of daily reflecting on a word or phrase gleaned from scripture or other spiritual texts.

Dwelling for a day beneath a word like a banner feels bracing. A mental upgrade.

Annually, I choose a word or phrase for the coming year. Not because I’m hyper-spiritual.

No. Call me The Distraction Magnet. My soundest intentions are easily foiled. Plus I’m forgetful. I need Cliffs Notes for more aware living — preferably the haiku version. Abridged.

Words with variable interpretations nurture, guide, and challenge me.

If they pull double duty as noun and verb, all the better.

Centerpiece Word for the Year: Delight — My 2015 word

To keep things fresh, I sometimes substitute new words. Write them on jaunty place cards and sticky notes, then affix them to dashboards and mirrors. Handlebars. Calendars. Closet shelves. Cupboard doors.

I fold them into wallets and tuck them inside books I’m reading.

Like cheeky cartoon captions, well-chosen words re-focus me, streamline my thoughts. Refresh my intention.

The briefest soul download . . . in a single glance.

Sometimes they affect my Yays and Nays. They help me:

organize possibilities
curate opportunities
cull old nemeses

Centerpiece living vs feature creep

During childhood my brother craved those fluffy corner pieces on bakery cakes, inch-deep in piped ridges and clustered roses.

I preferred middle pieces, choir-girl modest beneath a skim of white icing.

Too much of anything jangles me, be it whipped lard-and-sugar, caffeine, or excess input—including Costco and media touting myriad products, ever-breaking news and images.

Give me the gist. The essence. The heart of the matter, where I can briefly rest.

And catch those small messages hidden in plain sight.

Today I want to sense the crux of things . . .

in decor and diet
personal study
conversations, letters, emails
prayers, poems, and blog posts
events and interactions

And tonight, recount each centerpiece of the day—those created, and those found.

“It’s simple,” Mom said. “Just do this, often”:

Any “found centerpieces” in your day so far? I’d love to hear about them.

Why not create one for your desk or table? Or your screen saver?

Wonder Years: Double Your Double Take

by Laurie Klein 4 Chiming In

Wonder, just beyond our doorstep:

Can’t create it, command it, control it . . .

these un-earnable perks
in our everyday-bumbling-along lives,
this delight in the fleeting.

When it comes to wonder, I can shelve it. Quash it. Deny or decry it.

I can turn away, instead of aside, as Abraham did, pausing before that outlandish burning bush. [Read more…]

Attention: Up-side, Down-side

by Laurie Klein 12 Chiming In

Where the Sky Opens: Book standing at attention — Photo by L.L. Barkat

A tension

She squirmed. Too much attention. Too much love in their voices.

The blur of lit candles. Dinnertime ritual turned upside down. Oh, that poor kid, coming unwound! She buried her face and cried while the family sang, “Happy Birthday to you!”

And all those expectant eyes—did she need to sing back, in return? All by herself? Panicked, she ran from the room. [Read more…]