Debra Basham

Living and Loving

Tag: nature

  • Faces

    “Being engaged in a struggle
    may give us a sense of security,
    so that at least we feel that
    we are doing something.”

    ~ The Heart of the Buddha, by Chögyam Trungpa

    It is another of those amplified times with a roller coaster of emotions. Several dynamics in my life account for the ride, but the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts.

    Yes, my friend’s beloved former husband passed in his sleep this week.

    Yes, my brother-in-law has a renal carcinoma and needs a procedure. (He lost a kidney to cancer a few years ago.)

    Yes, we are approaching the one-year mark of the pandemic pause.

    Yes, we are again preparing to travel back to Michigan without clear plans for an unencumbered visit with the kids in Tennessee.

    Yes, we are at that friction-point where I know how much will need to be done to pack, load, clean, depart, travel, arrive, unload, unpack. And did I say clean?

    And, yes, we are experiencing a stress so deeply personal I dare not speak of in this article. Grief has taken up residence in my mind.

    But grief has a twin sister: relief.

    What helps you come into balance and allows you to feel the relief, especially during stressful times?

    Yes, nature is one thing that helps a lot of people, including me!

    Yes, on our walk yesterday Deva, the dog, came running over to me for some petting. She dropped at my feet, rolled over, and would have been content to stay there if her human had not summoned her out of the middle of the road.

    Yes, we were able to watch two dolphins frolicking in the canal last evening. One shot right under the dock we were standing on!

    Yes, the adult eagles are now regular visitors as they leave the chicks alone for longer and longer periods, encouraging them to fly. The adults cannot teach the young to feed themselves until they are willing to fly.

    Yes, I think that is true about humans, too.

    Yes, angels and birds and bees (perhaps, everything with wings?) are always reaching out from what my friend Anna Marie called the perfume of the effulgent formlessness.

    Yes, life, with all its uncertainty, including this tree, is showing us a pretty face!




    LIFE IS FULL OF BEAUTY, NOTICE IT. ~ Ashley Smith

  • WooHOOT!

    Sacred Stories

    They are expecting their first baby at the end of the month.

    A girl!

    As they were falling asleep last night, an owl was hooting outside.

    About 30 minutes later, she woke up and the owl was still hooting. That had never happened before.

    Her thought, “OMG, she’s coming!” was quickly replaced with the realization their baby girl might just be saying hi.

    The name they have in mind for their precious baby daughter is symbolized by the owl…

    WooHOOT!

    Indigenous people have always acknowledged the connection of nature and spirit. Welcome Baby Girl!

  • Listen to the Trees


    This quotation by William Blake was hand lettered beautifully onto the whiteboard hanging on the wall. A fortunate few gathered at the Pine Island public library last evening for a presentation by Zan Henegan Lombardo—artist, poet, friend, and teacher extraordinaire.

    Once in a while, you are soooooo blessed to be part of something organic, unimaginable, and magnificent. Previously, I have written about Zan’s first 30-foot watercolor painting. Now she has done it again, this time with a piece about some of my favorite sentient beings: trees.

    Here is the dazzling 4 foot by 30 foot painting, titled, “Dance of All This,” when it was hanging in the round at the Sydney and Byrne Davis Art Center, 2301 First St, Fort Myers, Florida:

    And, shared with her permission, Zan’s amazing poem that goes along with the new painting:


    Listening to the Lights in the Trees

    With forehead pressed against the trunk
    Where the music is embedded,
    I make this request: “Please, sing to me about your angels.”

    The slender tree responds with percussive impulse,
    Pushing me squarely back,
    Flaying my chest, exposing my heart,
    Invisible wings flexing from shoulder blades.
    A cacophony of sounds and light flash through me,
    Full on,
    Indecipherable.

    I back off.
    Old trees offer more seasoned melodies, I hope.

    Gingerly stepping over gnarly roots to a
    Welcoming section with thicker waist,
    Gently placing my brow in contact with the weathered bark,
    Silently, I ask.

    This time I find myself in the heart of God,
    Wings still flexing from my shoulders.
    And the messenger says,
    “The ballad is more than can be sung
    In a single verse.
    Our angels require you sit
    In communion with us
    Throughout your life
    In order to internalize the lyrics
    Of that which you desire.

    It’s complicated.”

    –Zan Lombardo, 2018

    Zan led us in an exercise about listening, during which were asked to share a memorable experience we have had with a tree. Mine was from the 1970’s, when I was a camp counselor at Lake Louise United Methodist Camp, in Boyne Falls, Michigan. The theme of the week was ‘Acclimatization.’

    The activities were designed so we experienced ourselves as a part OF nature, rather than a part FROM nature. We worked with a partner, who guided us safely in the woods. We were invited to listen, and let a tree call to us. We remained with that tree for some time, practicing hearing it, before being led out of the woods.

    Once safely at the edge of the woods, our blindfold was removed, and we were invited to use our new-found listening skills to return to our tree. I did that! It was truly amazing.

    We were asked by Zan to inner listen and go stand by the section of the painting that spoke to us. This is the section that was speaking to me:

    You can listen to trees. Trees are sentient beings.