A Year In Sedona: Introduction

A Year In Sedona ~

Meeting the Muse at Wisdom's Edge

   

Transitions take place in our later years and  a fundamental and primal shift from ambition to meaning occurs.   -- Angeles Arrien



Introduction

            

              A very wise woman once told me that when the outrageous but inevitable happens, just yell "Plot twist!" Turn the page, start a new chapter and get ready to meet the muse at wisdom's edge, a creative and contemplative time and place when growing older and wiser means that story honors soul, beauty beholds wonder and age meets wisdom.

       There have always been tales about making a leap of faith to meet the muse and find renewed meaning and purpose later in life and A Year in Sedona ~ Meeting the Muse at Wisdom’s Edge is one of those stories. At the second half of life my husband and I moved to a beautiful and hospitable place with artistic roots and found a small town filled with creative spirits and a vibrant sense of community. Here we learned to see with fresh eyes by rekindling an old love affair with our muse and finding kindred spirits who were lighting the way not only for our own generation but for others to follow.
                                                              
            After the hurly burly years of professional ambition and family responsibilities were over we found a new life in Sedona, Arizona, known for its fabled red rocks, scenic wonders and as a prime destination for hikers, birders and nature enthusiasts. A long time haven for artists and seekers on a variety of spiritual paths, here is where we met our new tribe. Warm, wise, witty and engaged souls, they were our guides on the path to wisdom's edge, all of them living a second life of creativity and compassion as they made original and lasting contributions to their friends, families and communities. Our encounters with and what we learned from the artists, writers, visionaries, healers and spiritual seekers we met is our tale of meeting the muse at wisdom's edge.


          Inspiration for A Year In Sedona ~ Meeting the Muse at Wisdom's Edge came from my blog At Wisdom's Edge, a wide ranging and free wheeling look at finding your muse at the second half life. This book continues in the spirit of the blog and I intend it as a useful resource and guide for anyone contemplating living a more creative path at any age. Within each chapter is a section with practical suggestions and simple ideas for engaging the imagination and meeting the muse. The last chapter, Dwelling In Possibilities, offers The Wisdom's Edge Questionnaire, for those just starting out on the road to wisdom's edge.

         Whether you're reading this book as an armchair traveler or actually setting out for some exotic new location, I hope you'll find fresh and meaningful words here about how to more creatively embrace your own second life at wisdom's edge.  
                                                     
     

Purchase your copy  of "A Year In Sedona ~ Meeting the Muse at Wisdom's Edge" ...coming soon on Amazon!

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Home From The War

Cat Meets Buddha (photo: Melanie Lee)


Home From The War
by Melanie Lee

When glory days are done

wounded soldiers always
come home. 

He was a soldier of fortune once,
returned home to lie alone
upon a shelf, closing his eyes to a world 
he couldn't really see,
soul windows wrapped in gauze.


One day emboldened,
he slowly unwound fuzzy bandages
covering his almond eyes
and  wiped away the ointments
covering his soul.
 
He sees now his youthful flings and folly.
It was the fight, the battle royal
the noble stalk
that had seemed so
grand and satisfying. 

 He remembers yet the thrill of the hunt.
Claws en pointe,
 orange fur flying, tail poised,
piercing yowls retorting.
 Possessor of flesh wounds,
regal bearer of scars.


 How soon those days were over.
He has come home now
to live on a ledge
enfolded in the afternoons
 by quiet emptiness,

 the solemn tomb of a once proud king.

Watching himself in wonder he notes the
 efficient and tidy rhythms of

one errant but stalwart heart, the
 marvels of two old, heroic lungs
 bellowing in and out, 
 a spray of stubby whiskers thinned by time 
but useful just the same.

He is faithful to this new place of silence
awaiting his moment of illumination.

The time will come
to roam free again
 joining lady feline angels
with twilight treats
 of sacred fish, magic mice, 
ascended birds and holy bugs.

                                                           Until then
                                                 he keeps his weekly satsang

with the Buddha
who reminds him gently
 yet again...

The alchemy within your soul

will soon give birth

as you sit 
and learn to stay.

Timing is all

growth ripens,

fullness happens,

life asks your permission.

Home from the war
the sun shines,

the Light returns.
You will see anew.

Grounded In Stillness

Sitting Still, Lotus Pads in Lankester Botanical Gardens, Cartago, Costa Rica photo by Melanie Lee



 The Art of Stillness
by Pico Iyer

 At some point, all the horizontal
trips in the world stop compensating 
for the need to go deep, into 
somewhere challenging and 
unexpected; movement makes most
 sense when grounded in stillness.

In an age of speed, I began to think,
nothing could be more invigorating
than going slow. In an age of
distraction, nothing could feel more
luxurious than paying attention. And in
an age of constant movement, nothing
is more urgent than sitting still. 

 --from The Art of Stillness: 
Adventures In Going Nowhere

a TED book (small books, big ideas)
 by essayist/travel writer Pico Iyer

Passage To Summerland

Passage To Summerland
17 X 15
Watercolor on Paper by Melanie Lee

                                                                                                                                                                                                                Passage To Summerland                                                     

Our guide was a Trickster

who always smelled skanky

we held our hanky

discreet to nose

 hoping fair winds

would deliver us gladly

from  armpits gone badly.

 Asses in gear sweeties!

Trickster yelled with abandon

Sashay up that hill, 

sidle over those humps.

 I  see ya, I gotcha

    now don't be a goose 
just look out for the bumps.

                                                                           

Darkling lowlands now behind,

ascent ground on blind

through smokey webs and blackened barbed wire.

Came a lonely blue valley with dusty red fire 

hosanna, we  fell on our knees in surrender

 to a large happy lemon

                                                       oozing hope from a blender.                                                                                                                                                                                

 Noon blazed high

when the end burst in sight,

 resurrection stood by

 Trickster shone in the light.

Fresh shirt, sweet pits

 cleaned up right smart as 

 lilacs from heaven bloomed out his heart.

                                                          Let go of my hand dears

he said with a wink

 I know what you think 

but I'm merely a link.

  That yellow? That mirth?

Pay homage to Summerland,

you're now guests on earth.

.

 

In Liminal Time

 

  Liminality  Acrylic (detail)  by Louis Michalski

In Liminal Time
by Melanie Lee

She rode in on an indigo dream

 all divine madness 

and sweet melancholy,
a cackling Crone in liminal time 
whose shadowed brilliance

promised voice and valor
speaking truth to power.

               Her wrinkled face of textured lines
held nubbin teeth in a Revlon Red mouth
 smiling blue rain and purple rivers,

  spurting wild ecstatic knowings
bleeding crimson hot and hard
 molten drops of
 apples, rubies, iron.

          It is when we are not sure 

that we are most alive.

How did she know what she knew?

                And why did she say what she said?
Her red lips opened wider now,
 our frightened ears came alive
Thus she spake to show us how
to tell the truth,
to learn to thrive.
       

                                            What do you count on to have a voice?

                                                      Something to say,

                                                    Someone to speak to,

                                                     Someone to listen.

 Too late now to turn back truth

 body hugged soul, we opened our hearts,
  our minds unchained, we watched her mouth. 

Out walked courage

followed by anger

surrounded by love
wrapped in light.