Images from a Train: Omaha

Posted on September 17, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 4

We arrived at daybreak into Omaha. The station is under construction and there are pieces of its past and future, arising together, before the platform. Sleep came late, but the sun was welcome. Coffee wafted down the corridor from the dining car and few were up yet. Feet and arms littered the aisles as I slipped from the car to the fresh air of the platform. The stone and masonry were still wet from the night’s dew and the conductor pulled tight his coat. Passengers lit up for this brief stop and the long rays of the sun caught the smoke rising, as I turned to walk the station.

As I look at the images now, I wonder at all I did not photograph. Pieces of time and movement that still drift upon my mind, as if the cars were still moving in my head.

Images from a Train: Motion

Posted on September 15, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 5

In the distortions and flashes I see my image. The bridge of my nose another geometry in a flashing landscape. Coal has already passed on the previous cars – strapped lumber, too. The rails are one of the few places in the country where a passenger goes last. Passenger trains stop for all the cargo that moves. Milk and oil tankers, flatbeds of slate and shale and bales of grasses for cattle lands. Graffiti is a color smear against the gun metal.

My reflection comes and goes between the cars and I realize this is true of all of me. I am what exists between each thought, as life exists, flashing between each car.

Little Girl Swirling

Posted on September 12, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 10

I attended my cousin Brent’s wedding in Chicago. This was the flower girl. I never got her name. She danced and twirled loving the feel of her dress and the power of her boots. When you are five everything goes together, because it’s never about the appearance, as how good you feel when you see yourself in it. So if you feel good about the dress and you feel good about the boots, well then, they must go together.

Boys, I’m sure, have their own thing, but for little girls it’s all about the dress. When I was her age I had a chocolate brown satin and velvet dress for special occasions. I wore it with black, patten leather Mary Janes. The skirt twirled deliciously when I spun. I’d stand in my parent’s bedroom where there was a full length mirror and dance and pose at myself. I wonder sometimes how it is we lose pleasure in our own beauty. As children it comes so naturally, but then as we age, we seem to forget. Maybe it’s the dress. Lose the swirling skirt and you lose your way. You lose the ability to be carefree and dance about for no other reason than it just feels good.

I watched her for sometime. It’s hard to turn away from that sort of magic.

Soar

Posted on September 2, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 13

Gulls at Johnston Lake: Photo by Noelle

What if it is all to get us to let go of the cliff ledge? What if we’re all being shaken off our belief we must have security, predictability and knowledge? Every hardship a challenge to the internal structures we create to define who we are, how everything works and what is true and real?

What if all of this is for our awakening? To encourage our understanding of freedom, rather than a lesson on imprisonment. To forget everything we think we know and let go of the ledge. Free fall and trust we will fly. What if it’s the reason we chose to live? We wanted every single moment to happen, because our spirit already knew it could soar.

Coyote

Posted on August 29, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 4

Free Bing photos

Early, before the sun is up. Breakfast half eaten against the back drop of autos heading into the city. I hear them yelping between the motors in the nearby field. The night was cold for summer, giving rise for them to howl for autumn.

I am pressed and clean for the day ahead, but their barks call to my wildness beneath the suit. All these routines and order, economies, mortgages and regulations. I stand at the window and listen. My heart beats faster with the next call and I realize it is not order I am hungry for, but the feel of dirt and the grass beneath my feet. To run and howl with abandon with my kin.

Alas, a deep final breath at the sill, as I turn from the window, checking my coyote spirit as I head for the door.

True Power

Posted on August 28, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 13

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

“If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.” Marcus Aurelius

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

Intuition

Posted on August 27, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 7

Sunset on Mt. Falcon: Photo by Noelle

“What I am actually saying is that we need to be willing to let our intuition guide us, and then be willing to follow that guidance directly and fearlessly.” Shakti Gawain

Growing Waking Up

Posted on August 16, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 11

Reposted from Meditation Masters Facebook page

When I was married, I was asleep
This was no fault of my husband’s
I was waiting for my life
I blamed this on my husband
Wisely, he ignored me
So I stewed
Small things like paint and paper
Make a big difference
Glue and art classes
Masterpieces on walls
Plaster and glass
I saw a path and it grew
Which led to my divorce
And my friendship with my
Ex-husband
Sometimes goodness comes
Not from demanding something
Be something else
But rather awakening to what is
Really feeling and touching its
Roots

This is how you grow, waking up

End of the Day

Posted on August 13, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 13

Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle

And the end of the day was upon me, yet still I waited in the field. So many moments allowed to pass without reverence or awe. What life have I been living, to have slept so long?

Not Alone

Posted on August 9, 2014 by noellevignola Standard 2

From the Spirit Science Facebook page

This morning I awoke with a phrase running through my mind. It sounded as if I were leaving a dream and whoever I was talking to was leaving me with a parting thought.

“You are not alone.”

It wasn’t a creepy X-Files phrase, but rather warm and comforting. It continued to roll through my mind as I got ready for work.

“You are not alone.”

When I was in college I had the typical nonsensical conversations most twenty-something’s, experimenting with various mind-altering drugs have. You get high and ponder UFO’s, out of body experiences and whether your dead grandparents have seen you having sex. Stupid stuff that left you laughing for hours. The idea of “not alone” in such states could almost seem mystical, but never to be recaptured once back down to earth.

As I brushed my teeth, I pondered this idea again.

“You are not alone.”

Yes, thirty years later and deeply sober, the feeling is as mystical and magical today, as it was then. I giggled and spit toothpaste down my chin. Such are the actions of all great revelations. The inducement of laughter and wonderment, at our connection to all things.

“You are not alone.”