OSP–it has been awhile

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Mandala collage (My witness writing in this post does not correlate to the collage)

I took an Open Studio Process to my daughter’s leadership group at school.  I facilitated them in a process of witnessing the image and a mini collage/mandala process.  It went well.  I learned some things, felt humbled by their earnest brilliance, their pure intent to make the world a better place by ending racism.

Some of my notes from the morning:

Free writing, engage with yourself…I need to get some anxious energy out of my body.  These kids are great and they are all here to do great work and I want so much to provide a gift for them, to honor them and hold them.

My witness: Trees, brown, olive, fatigue greens.  Blankets on a line.  Naturalist, he could be there as a thinker, a ponderer, looking out over the vista of trees and earth.  His clothing and blankets hang on a line, a cup of coffee beside him.  At first glance, I considered that he could be homeless, without shelter and this is his dwelling place, whether by choice or force.  Curves and leaves, one trunk bends, as if a strong breeze pushes it over.  I read about trees that are bent, and how ancient native people here used to bend young trees and tie them down to point toward a path or water source.  It was a means of showing the way to those who would follow.  A large stone sits to the side of this man.  He doesn’t look lonely, but wise, at peace.  He wears glasses and books, signs that he respects the elements, knows his surroundings and chooses to be there.  The landscape of trees seems to go on endlessly and I consider with awe the amount of the earth and planet that is so unknown to me, a mystery, a gift to be discovered.  There is darkness in the forest beyond him, darkness that does not appear ominous or scary, but reflective of the density of a forest and then to think of that going on for miles, with no obvious end.  It is both hopeful and awe-inspiring.  The notion of being small among such greatness, knowing there is space for all, every kind of creature to exist and be nourished.  Sky and clouds shroud the background, fog obscures scale and size.

This is fragmented, I know.  There is something about the reflection of it that feels good.

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