The Pain of Beauty

“I HAVE felt the pain that arises from a recognition of beauty . . .” wrote Terry Tempest Williams in An Unspoken Hunger: Stories from the Field. It was an epiphany when I read this phrase and I began to ponder it. Something I had felt many times had been given words. In my life I have had many experiences of recognizing beauty. I have seen it, heard it, and felt it. Each time that I experienced true piercing beauty, it had been accompanied by a momentary twinge of pain.

   That moment. In that moment, I am overwhelmed with the sensation of beauty and it evokes a sense of ecstasy. But it is paradoxical. The joyful moment is coupled with a melancholy pain.  The joy is there and then it is gone.

WHAT CREATES this pain of beauty? I speculate that it is when we feel the oneness with all creation. It is the unity with The-Spirit-Who-Moves-Through-All-Things. It washes over us in a fleeting, yet ecstatic, moment of being One with it all. The peace and love is felt deep within a part of ourselves we don’t often contact. But it is a glorious sensation that is difficult to express in ordinary language. The pain begins when we feel the ecstasy dissipating. It does not last but we desperately want it to remain.

   In the depths of the ecstasy and pain, I am a very elemental part of creation. I am the frog basking on the log. The leaf that is dancing in the breeze. The collision of hot and cold air. The rain droplet feeding the earth. The loping coyote sifting scents. It is a suspension of time. The moment of truly being.

   And yet, as a human, I am part of it—but we forget.  We are never separate. Perhaps it is how open we allow ourselves to be with the natural world. Are we in the moment? Do we allow ourselves to be transparent to nature?

   And still the beauty unfolds . . .

(Excerpt from my book: Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History)

Enough Said

Enough Said

I WALKED to the lake to photograph the brilliant autumn color. The landscape was on fire with color and I could smell it in the air. The air was clear, crisp, and the sun was yet to rise. I anticipated the revelation to come as the sun rose to begin the illumination. What color would the light be? Would clouds form? How would the leaves reflect the light? What reflections would be revealed? I love the quiet anticipation and the solitude.

   It was extraordinary. The sun began to light the northeastern edge of the lake. It spread an exquisite light, which crept across the tree line. The leaves became a luminous paint palette. And there in the reflection of the lake surface was a very unusual shade of salmon. The lake surface was glass. It mirrored the color of the trees hundreds of feet away. I noticed a spent lotus pad and stem bent in an arc on the water’s surface. I focused my lens and composed the shot. How could the beauty have been even more extraordinary in the viewfinder?

   I thought about what I had just viewed. I contemplated the question and began to realize the answer was that within the rectangular viewfinder, I was able to hold and, yes, possess that magnificent scene. The ephemeral beauty was mine. It would not last. It was fleeting. The color. The light. The stillness. The serenity. I could visually touch it through the viewfinder. It was my form of intimacy with beauty.

   I encountered another person. He was also present to photograph the autumn. We quietly spoke of lenses, tripods, and geese that flew back and forth across the lake. I do not know if he was aware of the remarkable color and scenes in the middle of the lake inlet. I pointed out several birds to him—the grebes, the red-breasted nuthatch call—and the clouds. However, I did not share the single lotus plant or the deep salmon light. These moments are sacred and they cannot be placed into words. The extraordinary cannot be explained by the ordinary.

   Soon the dialogue ceased. We enjoyed talking and sharing the same passion, but the solitude took over again. After all, that is why we had come here. We were both drawn to the quiet and the beauty. Enough said.

(Excerpt from my book: Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History)

The Calling

The Calling

She calls.

It begins as an infrequent calling.

A beckoning.

A summons.

She converses with your spirit.

You begin to answer.

You go to Her.

She tempts.

You surrender.

Until one day, you commit.

And you carry the Calling within you

Always.

A poem about Nature from the book Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History by Joni L. James. Available through my website at http://www.jonijamesphotography.com/.

                                            ©Joni L. James



Becoming Part of the Harmony

[The] sound of the waters is audible to every ear, but there is other music in these hills, by no means audible to all. To hear even a few notes of it you must first live here for a long time, and you must know the speech of hills and rivers. Then on a still night, when the campfire is low and the Pleiades have climbed over rimrocks, sit quietly and listen for a wolf to howl, and think hard of everything you have seen and tried to understand. Then you may hear it – a vast pulsing harmony – its score inscribed on a thousand hills, its notes the lives and deaths of plants and animals, its rhythms spanning the seconds and the centuries.
     - Aldo Leopold

                                                       Lake Edgewood ©Joni L. James

"I am driven to embrace this land, to protect it, to know all its moods and secrets.I must know who lives here, whether it is dragonfly,chipmunk, cattail, kingfisher, or cricket frog. These are my neighbors. They have taught, inspired, and sustained me all my adult life."
--from Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History by Joni L. James

I so agree with Aldo Leopold. To really know a landscape-- is a great gift. Boundaries are dissolved and you are no longer an observer . . . you are part of It. You are a part of the harmony -- part of the rhythm-- no separation. You become One.

" . . . I need to know a landscape intimately."
--from Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History by Joni L. James

Have you ever felt the boundaries dissolve and became part of the harmony & rhythm?

"The True Source of Joy . . .

The true source of joy is love — love of God, love of beauty, love of wisdom, love of another human being, it does not matter which. It is all one love: a joyful awareness of dissolving boundaries of our ordinary narrow self, of being one with the reality beyond, of being made whole.
     - Irma Zaleski, from the essay The Door To Joy

                                           ©Joni L. James

I do believe it is about dissolving boundaries. Losing oneself. A feeling of unity results . . . of oneness with All. When this occurs, it is not just joy though. It is Ecstasy!

If you have read my book, Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History, I expound on the subject of opening oneself in Nature to the possibilities. Opening oneself to the connection that can occur in which you feel you have merged with all living things including the landscape before you. I have known ecstasy in many encounters & experiences in Nature.

Any comments from my readers? Share your thoughts!

Excerpt: Dancing With Herons-- "The Night" Poem

A great blue heron coursed across a deepening blue sky this evening as night fell. It reminded me of a poem I wrote many years ago. "The Night" is included in my book Dancing With Herons.

                                           

                                           Copyright Joni L. James
                                  
The Night
Walking
This evening.
The waning light from the setting sun.
Darkness enveloping the ponds.
Full moon glowing bright.
Coursing through the sky in dark silhouette,
To eclipse the moon,
Your powerful wingbeats carry you.
Left with my thoughts,
I wonder where you are going.
How will you pass the dark hours?
It's a different world you know . . .
The night.

Book Give-Away!

Please note the book give-away for DANCING WITH HERONS at the top of the blog. The Give-Away ends June 25, 2011. Click the button to go to a really cool site (especially if you love books and love to read) to sign up. I have an author/book page there. Simply search by the title of my book or by my name.

121 people are signed up to win the book!

Good Luck!

Bound by Language?

I have been thinking about something that was mentioned at my spiritual growth center--yes, I prefer not to use "church" for all the negative connotations that term creates. (This is another characteristic of language--words have negative and positive affects).

One man (I will call him TC)  said that while preparing for his presentation, he had asked a friend for a meaning of "love". The friend (MM) stated-- Why do you need a definition? (Not verbatim). This response captured my thoughts for days.

Language can be such a hindrance when we attempt to discuss or explain the unexplainable. For all the beauty of the English language, it often fails when speaking of that which can't be seen. Or those strong emotions and experiences which we try to convey. I am not suggesting we should do without language. I am a lover of words and know the power they hold.

What is "love"? It is many things to many people. There are many kinds of love . . .? Some would say yes . . . others no. Is love the same but simply different when it involves different relationships? Does love need words to explain it?

Strip language away. It would force us to "feel" more. Free us to feel more. Perhaps we would rely more on our intuition or that inner voice which converses with us at all times. What if you could not use words or sounds to communicate?

In my book, Dancing With Herons: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History, I discuss how language restricts our ability to deeply and accurately express ourselves. How do you explain the sacred?

In "When Eyes Meet" (a chapter in the book), I conclude an encounter with a White-tailed Deer during a blizzard by writing the following: "Something indescribable passes between us. My language is limited in describing this encounter and all those like it. But my word of choice is Knowing."

So does love need a definition? Beauty? Joy?

You will find me asking many questions in my writing here. Many of the questions will be rhetorical. They are merely questions for you and myself to contemplate.

What are your thoughts on this subject? Wait . . . don't answer-- that would involve language.

Video: Book Trailer for DANCING WITH HERONS

Enjoy the book trailer for DANCING WITH HERONS: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History. It is a book of prose, stories, & poetry.

The Book Has Arrived!

DANCING WITH HERONS: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History has arrived! I am very pleased with the book and somewhat relieved to have them safely in hand. It has been a long process that began as journal writings throughout the 1980s and into the 1990s. During the 2000 decade I began revising some of the stories into essays. Other entries were polished to stand alone as encounters that were memorable to me in some way or another. From 2005 they were loosely collected in an attempt to mold them into a book and refine the themes.

Finally during the summer of 2010 to present, I worked diligently at revising and editing the final manuscript then readying it to be published/printed. The labor of love that took place in the last year was a result of much teamwork with my friend, editor, layout designer, & webmaster-- Pat.

So here it is. Independently published by HeronWatch Publishing (me). If you enjoy memoir, nature writing, spirituality, and poetry, I invite you to read the book.

A short excerpt:

SERENDIPITOUS MOMENTS are always etched in my memory. It was my last day before returning to work—the classroom. On a late August morning, fog was rising from all the pond surfaces. I was nagged by a feeling that something special would occur.

  Standing at the base of the hill that I use as my entrance to these ponds, I turned and was met with an ethereal sight. Walking cautiously along the pond levee was a female white-tailed deer. She was bathed in the fog and backlit in the amber sun. She had emerged from the woodland nearby.

You may order from my website: http://www.jonijamesphotography.com/

You can "LIKE" it on Facebook. See the links in the right margin.

Until next time . . .

Changes and Walking Through Doors

Welcome to my first blog post! Here at Bearing Witness I hope to share, inform, educate, and inspire. And I hope to hear from you.
The last several months have been about big change in my life . . . my career. Many doors have presented themselves and small windows. I have been focused on walking through doors and opening windows and trusting . . . believing.

I am looking forward to receiving my book, DANCING WITH HERONS: Bearing Witness to Local Natural History from the printer within the next 3 weeks or so. This is a project that I have worked on for several years and with great dedication the last 10 months. Besides a personal goal, it is a promise made to my mother and soon it will be fulfilled. I have had unselfish guidance from my friend Pat. She has been an editor, web designer, and manager. I am filled with gratitude for her devoted assistance and friendship.

I will be announcing the availability of the books through Facebook, Good Reads, this blog, and email. Stay tuned. You may read an excerpt, and info about it at my web site: http://www.jonijamesphotography.com/. Please visit my site and enjoy the nature photography also.

Also visit my Facebook page for the book at www.facebook.com/DancingWithHerons. Click "LIKE" and "SHARE".
If you are a member of Good Reads: http://www.goodreads.com/, you will find me there also www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomjonijames.

Stay in touch!
Joni