January 22, 2012

small stones

A few of you have asked about these 'small stones' I have been writing this month, and it made me realise I only gave the briefest explanation. This is why I started writing them:

"small stones will help you connect to the world, in all its richness & complexity & juiciness. 

To find your own small stones:

1. Keep your eyes, nose, mouth, fingers, ears & your mind open.
2. Notice something.
3. Write it down.

That's it. Extremely simple, and extraordinarily powerful. Try it & see.

If you want to get started straight away, read more about how to write small stones & then pick up your pen. Do it today. And do join the River (our daily small stone writing challenge) in Jan '12."



This is the description of what a 'small stone' is on the website of two writers, Kaspalita, a Buddist priest and Fiona Robyn, a published author, and I love the way they are encouraging so many people to slow down and appreciate a moment in each day, and attempt to capture it in words. 


I am just joining in for the month of January, but I think I will keep writing them now and again afterwards, because I love the discipline and the pleasure of attempting to find words to enshrine a moment. Just a few, well chosen words, that is the rub for me, not the happy rambles I am prone to, but pithy, to the point written observations.It isn't anything as grandiose as poetry, it is just the wrapping of a few words around a feeling or a noticed moment, but I hope if I look back years from now, those moments will be alive still in my memory. 


Every day though, it is hard, I often don't feel that inspired. But nothing worthwhile always feels easy does it? I'm pushing through!


Have a go in a notebook or diary. It is fun and it feels like a good discipline if you enjoy writing.


These are my latest four (all unrelated):


Clearing the final wizen remnants of last year's growth from the garden 
seems suddenly like a slate wiped clean, an absolution of sorts, 
earned by going out in pinching cold and doggedly clearing the way for hope, 
for this year's bounty yet unseen, for promises of beauty yet unknown.




A child at a piano, fair hair haloed by a lamp, makes a mother's heart sing.




A glass of wine, sipped slowly between happy conversations
with delicious food or in quiet contemplation, to me tastes good. 
Wine in gulps though, so easily becomes
desperation, foolishness, anger, self sabotage.




Softly, the winter sunset hovers over fence and hedgerow, 
the day slips away in a sliding, iridescent glow.







3 comments:

  1. I like stripping jumbled thoughts down to the right words but it is so hard to do. I will follow your link and your inspiration. Thank you, Jane x

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  2. Lovely thoughts and such an inspiring activity for the month.
    Looking at that image of the sky reminds me of a plein air painting...nature really does offer us gifts everyday.

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