Inspiration...the breath of life and fulfillment

Inspiration. From the Latin: inspiratus, to breathe into. The act of breathing pulls in life-giving, energizing oxygen, without which we cease to exist on a physical level. Over time, we have learned that we not only need to breathe in the air around us, but also the wisdom and love and support of others to live an inspired life. When I say "others," I refer to all things outside ourselves that we can pull inside ourselves to bring added joy and meaning to our work, our relationships, our very lives. We can find inspiration in the natural world as well as in the creations of other people. Of course, as human beings, we are also part of the natural world no matter how many barriers we often place between ourselves and other organic creations, flora and fauna, with which we share the Earth.

Today, I am focused on the inspiration I received from my dear Aunt Evelyn. Inspiration that overflowed itself into a poem that I recently wrote for her ninety-fifth birthday, just about a week before she passed away. Always a woman of strength, flexibility, good humor, and boundless love, Aunt Evelyn also lived life with a sense of curiosity and courage. As she began her transition from this life to the next, my cousin was witness to her mother's reporting of dreams, visions, and glimpses of the "other side." As with the rest of her life, my aunt faced her next phase with a sense of wonder and a deep foundation of faith. She was ready for the next grand adventure, knowing in her heart that other loved ones who had gone before her, especially her cherished husband, were ready to take her hand and lead her forward.

I learned from my cousin that her mother loved butterflies and that her favorite color was blue. Blue. The color of her beautiful eyes and that Carolina Blue sky beneath which she was born. And so, with Aunt Evelyn's spirit breathing life into my words, I wrote the following poem, shared here with my cousin's blessing. It is, perhaps, more "heart" than "art" but, I hope you may find a bit of inspiration from it as well.

Butterfly Soul

by Kathryn Louise Wood

A small butterfly came fluttering by

and caught the blue of Evelyn's eye. 

She softly raised her gentle hand,

offering haven for it to land.

Its tiny feet then tickled her palm,

sapphire wings folding down in calm.

She nearly felt its thrumming heart

and knew it played some larger part,

bigger than self in God's great plan.

"Please tell me now, however you can."

A shimmering voice now entered her mind,

more thought than words of any kind,

"Lean closer with your heart's own ear.

I'll tell you why God placed me here:

To remind you of things you already know,

down deep in your soul where all truths grow—

"Caterpillaring on, you do your best,

then cocoon for a moment of briefest rest.

And just when you think all of life is done,

you discover your wings, reflecting the sun.

Look in a mirror, and know what you see

veils your Butterfly Soul of Eternity."

Thanks for stopping by. Ya'll come back, now (and feel free to leave your own inspirations in the comments below.)

Kate

-photos from Pixabay.com-

Ghost Stories...'tis the season

"Buttercup Cottage Halloween" photo by K.L. Wood

 Anyone who has followed my writing is well aware that I often incorporate a ghostly element into my stories. For example, my Middle Grade novel, Zephyr Stone and the Moon Mist Ghost will be published by Blue Ink Press https://www.blueinkpress.com/in 2021. As you may surmise, I also enjoy reading ghost stories and watching television programs and movies that center on otherworldly action and characters. Especially if they are based in true events. I am alone in this within my household of two, in which my husband has no such interest. Although he humors me from time to time, he mostly just finds something else to do while I watch or read my ghost stories. Strangely, enough, between the two of us, he is the one who has had more actual ghostly encounters. Encounters of which he is the first to acknowledge their validity and truly supernatural qualities. I wrote a poem about my proclivity towards ghost stories which was selected to appear in the 2017 edition of the College of the Albemarle's annual visual arts and literary journal, Estuaries, and present it, here, as my October offering. Enjoy! (As you learn a bit more about me and my obsession...I mean my interest.)

"Edinburgh Ghost Tour" re: Pixabay

Ghostwriter

by Kathryn Louise Wood

Why are you always reading about ghosts,

or watching their hunters on reality TV,

or searching for clues on the internet,

or writing them into your stories and books?

These are the questions my husband asked me,

forehead creased in spousal concern.

Well that’s a good question, I’ve given it thought,

and wondered, myself, at this strange fascination.

So, after some probing and inner reflection,

I think I’ve discovered the root of my quest.

Two things have always stirred deep in my psyche:

the spellbinding thought of a magical world,

and life after death where lives never end.

I’ve seen too much, and heard even more,

to dismiss the existence of bodiless souls,

spirits so free of earthly constraints,

they pass through walls and visit the living.

That non-corporeal realm seems magic made real.

When days are numbered—some many, some few—

the promise that all that we are is not lost

lends comfort, but also a thrill of intrigue

to think we are all so much more than we seem.

I salute those who find their Belief is sufficient

in resting assured of eternal existence.

I find that the Faith of My Fathers is bolstered,

renewed, and strengthened, and greatly supported

when the stardust of supra-natural beings

reminds us, all, we are made of the same.

Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back, now! 

(And Happy Halloween!)

Kate

Ghostwriting...why I do it

"Peace" by Frederick Richard Pickersgill, 1871

As an author, I often find myself writing stories, novels, poems, and essays that involve ghosts, spirits, the souls of those who have left our sides. As a reader, I love to read books in which the supernatural are, well...natural. As a viewer of films and television programs, I am drawn to subject matter, both fiction and documentary, that explores the existence of the spirit world. So, why is that? Why am I continually pulled in this direction? And I might add, judging by the proliferation of literary and cinematic examples of ghostly stories, I am not alone in this fascination.

After giving it some thought, I have drawn the conclusion that my own interest lies in the joining of three worlds into one. The world of Magic. The other-worldly world of the Afterlife. And the world of Everyday Life. So many books, television programs, and films have utilized the land of fantasy, where magicians and wizards and good-hearted witches cast spells and use their magical powers to make their worlds better places. Regarding the Afterlife, it's not

"Dancing Fairies" by August Malmstrom, 1866

only books and film, but entire religions and philosophies that see the death of our physical bodies, not as an end to our existence but as a freeing of spirits from the restrictions and limitations of those earthly bodies. (Kind of like those fantastical magical beings who can fly from place to place and walk through walls.) And so, that leaves us in the here and now, dreaming of magical abilities and hoping our lives, and the lives of those we love, are not limited to the years we have here on this earthly plane.

The Afterlife, then, becomes an existence in which magic is made real and in which we have hope for the ongoing life of ourselves and our loved ones. It follows, therefore, that when we are faced with proof or validation of those beings (our future selves) who have "gone on beyond," we come to realize that the world, our Everyday Life world, is actually a pretty magical place. A world inhabited by future ghosts, spirits, the souls of those who have yet to leave our sides.

One of my poems, "Ghostwriter," was selected for publication in the 2017 edition of Estuaries, the visual arts and literary review of the College of the Albemarle. Follow this link and find my poem on page 20.
 https://issuu.com/collegeofthealbemarle/docs/estuaries-2017

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now.  
Kate

Ghosts are People Too...cradle to the grave and beyond

The author as a newborn with her mother.

This month's post is not based so much on research as it is on my own observation and reflection about how we view different stages of human life and how it may relate to the Afterlife.

How many times have you heard someone say "I love children," in the same way they might say "I love dogs"...or "cats"...or "baby goats?" It's as though children are a different species altogether. The same goes for "teenagers" or the newest designation du jour, "milleninals," or "the middle-aged," or "old people" --unless you are a child or a teenager or a millennial or middle-aged or an old person, and then it's just "us." It seems to be a part of human nature to inhabit our particular current age group as though this is who we've always been and who we will always be. Not necessarily in an intellectual sense, but in an emotional/psychological one. That children will always be children and teenagers will be always be stuck in adolescent limbo. We can think back on our own earlier days and note that, yes, we lived in that house as a child, or we hated carrots as a child, or we loved horses as a child. But go to a playground and watch a gang of kids swinging and sliding and hanging from the monkey bars and we think "those are children--look how much energy they have...or look

The author with mother and brother

how whiny they are...or look how cute they are..." and see them as something separate from the rest of humanity. Boys will be boys...forever.

BUT, children are just people who've not been around as long as some. And old people are just those who've been around the longest of us. They are the same creature. In thinking of all things ghostly for my current work-in-progress, I can extrapolate this same tendency of ours to our attitude toward those who have entered that next stage of life, what we sometimes refer to as the Afterlife. We often think of the spirits of the departed as strange and unholy entities. Or we think of them as strange and very holy entities. Monsters or angels, take your pick. But whatever they are, they aren't us. I am putting forth the idea that ghosts are not a separate species anymore than are the youngest or oldest among us. They are simply us at a different phase of life. Therefore, they are nothing to fear unless they were fearsome at an earlier age. Just people. The truest, innermost soul of the person, free of physical advantages or disadvantages with which they lived in a former stage of life.

The author, her grandmother, mother, and baby

OK. I'm climbing down from my metaphysical soapbox now. Perhaps this sudden need to express myself on this issue comes from the fact that April is the month of my birth and I am thinking of years past and years to come and how I've changed and will continue to change but, at my core, am the same person now and always, even in that future "land of far, far away" to which my beloved mother has already traveled. Thanks, dear Reader, for indulging me.

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now.  And Happy Birthday to Me! :)

Kate

P.S.-- Below is the word count meter showing my progress on my latest Work In Progress: 
Zephyr Stone and the Moon Mist Ghost

33459 / 60000 words. 56% done!