Debra Basham

Living and Loving

Tag: trees

  • The Substance of All Things

    Art is remembrance.
    It is love.
    It is like a sword
    that distinguishes
    between appearance and reality.
    ~ Rupert Spira

    I have been wondering just what it is that allows some people to find joy or see beauty or create art where it might have been missed by another.

    Musing is jogged by such mundane objects as coconuts and trees and chickens! My sweet friend, Carol L. Myers, with her recent display:

    Not only did someone take time to create these coconut faces (below), someone also displayed them where others could share in the joy.

    And someone paid great attention to detail.

    Artists are like that. Artists pay attention. An artist can see something that has been there all along, but not noticed, and an artist shares what is there with the world.

    Butch Farubetti looked at a Norfolk Pine that had been cut down and saw a ‘hidden treasure’ inside.

    In The Art of Peace and Happiness (Presence, Volume 1), Rupert Spira says this about art:

    An apparent object is never itself beautiful. True art is neither representation nor abstraction. It is revelation—the revelation that love, rather than inert matter, is the substance of all things.

  • Burn Healed

    Sacred Stories

    She just needed to get outside. Needed some time alone. She went to the farm and walked in the woods.

    She hated seeing trash in the stream. Some of the woods had been select cut four years earlier. Now so many saplings had grown up she could barely walk in some parts.

    Some of the large trees were leaning down toward the hollow—as if their roots couldn’t hold them straight anymore. As she realized the reason, she cried. Through her tears she apologized for cutting the other trees.

    She saw clearly that the trees had been able to stand so straight before because, over the years, they had intertwined all of their roots together. They supported each other in standing tall on the steep hillside.

    She thanked the trees for the life they had given her as she grew up.

    That night as she readied for bed, she noticed the inch-long burn on the top of her right hand was now only one-half inch and it was already a dry, sealed wound!

    WHAT A LESSON!

    These are sacred stories. Have one to share? Send email to debra@scs-matters.com.