On the brink

(If you're new here, start here)

These are the Malvern hills, which we can see from our house windows. Isn't this path just begging you to follow it?

Our river begins tomorrow. 

I've already decided on the word that will guide me during 2011. We've bought the ingredients for the bread pudding we'll be taking to our New Year's Eve gathering. We've arranged to meet friends to walk on the hills later today. 

The New Year is just around the corner. Full of opportunity, bursting with the unknown. There will be hazards as well as wonders. There will be everso-steep parts of the hill as well as stunning views. 

We can make sure we notice it as it rushes past us, one small stone at a time. 

We're all in the river together. I'm very happy to be in such good company.

Enjoy your days - I'll see you on the other side : )

My word for 2011 will be.....

Faith.

For me, faith is the opposite of clinging.

I am a human being, and I cling. I cling to wanting things to turn out my way. Not like this, like THIS. More. Different. Smaller. Sweeter.

This year, I would like to practice letting go. Doing my best, and then trusting that I will receive what I need - whether or not I receive what I want. Receiving what I'm given, gratefully. Settling back a little. Breathing out...........

What will your word for 2011 be? Do share it in the comments.

Thank you to Michelle at Peony Moon for this image, which accompanied an excellent post I suggest you pop over and read.

Thank you to Kaspa for being so supportive and lovely over the year - I can't wait for him to be my husband (June!)

Thank you to everyone who's got enthusiastic about our river of stones which starts tomorrow - it's going to be a BLAST. (not too late to join us....)

Thank you to YOU, dear reader, because without you this blog would be words drifting away in the wind.

Have a marvellous New Year and I look forward to spending time with you in 2011. x x x

For when you get scared

Writing can be a thorny business.

I've been doing it for many years now. I have four completed novels behind me, a book of poetry, a book of small stones, and a book of questions. 

The blank page still scares the bejesus out of me. I sit down to write my work-in-progress and think 'what am I doing thinking I can write? of all the deluded (mumble mumble)....' I have avoided writing poems for almost a year now. 

Maybe your small stones will leap eagerly and willingly into your laps, but if you're like the rest of the human race you might also have occasional thoughts like this. 

How can we continue when we're convinced the whole project is pointless and that everything we ever write is utter rubbish?

By taking a pen and writing a single word. And then another.

Thank your doubts kindly for their input, and continue anyway. Reassure your critic that you WILL allow them out, when you have written your small stone and you want to start polishing it, but not until then.

Writing can be a thorny business. But then so is life.

We are all in it together. The river of stones, and the river of life. We can encourage each other (do visit each other's blogs next month and say what you like). We can take comfort in the knowledge that every single writer ever has had terrible doubts about what they're doing. We can learn how to encourage ourselves, and get better at this as we go along. We can eat chocolate. We'll be JUST fine.

What does your lover smell of? (the fun begins the day after tomorrow)

(if this is your first visit, start here)

"Your lover, does he smell of cedar or pine, or lemon? Or tobacco? Have you ever washed an ashtray and wondered why it is so much more pungent when wet?"

This is Martha, telling her readers about our project. As she says, "...what started as a meditative process could well be a gold mine of writing prompts… or was it the other way round?". We hope some of you might find inspiration for longer pieces in your stones, and we'd love to see them when they're done.

Elaine has also signed up with her rather lovely blog - what peonies!

And Olivia wrote such a gorgeous piece, I'm going to share it all here. It heartened me because it describes exactly what I'm hoping for from this project. Do share your experiences of writing small stones with us.

And you know, it doesn't have to be small stones. That's just a label. Haiku, short stories, we're not fussy. Sketching, taking photographs... whatever. Just pay attention.

*

"I am going to be writing a ‘small stone’ each day in January – taking notice and observing and writing. On my way to the tube station today, I decide I need to practice. It is a 7 minute walk to the tube station, maybe 6 minutes today, as I run small parts of it, as I don’t want to miss my train. Even so, I notice – the wet, soft brown leaves, mushing on the pavement, concrete resisting their composting; the stump where there used to be a cherry tree that blossomed pink in the spring; the bright red wool hat and luminous yellow jacket of a council worker, giving out and attracting light on this gray day; the yellow lettering on the road in the bus stop bay worn away so that it now reads ‘us stop’; a baby in the warm clear bubble of his pram, incubated as he is perambulated, the father turning around to smile proudly at his – wife? - behind, catching me in the arc of his smile. And I smile back.


Until I am sat on the train, and start writing, and the sounds of words start bumping off of each other, I didn’t know that was how I saw those things – they were just leaves, a stump, a hat, worn-out road signs, a pram. In the writing, I appreciate what I have seen, and what I have been part of. I am confident now that I will be able to pick up and polish at least one small stone a day."

...crumbling back into soft clay and tiny stones...

;

(this is copied from a river of stones - if you want to find out more start here)

Jessica at everything feeds process made this exquisite little journal for her small stones. I'm very jealous. 

People are still signing up for the river and some are getting rather excited about it. I'm glad. We should be excited, because this project is about engaging the world. 

It is not about creating wonderful writing, although that is sure to be a by-product. 

It is not about beating ourselves up if we miss a day or can't get our small stone to look right. 

It's about attempting to put all that aside, and be curious in our object, the 'other'. What does his voice sound like? What is the texture of that crinkled leaf? What does the colour of that bird remind you of? 

What we're aiming for is to grow small, as Caroline has written below. Let's dance!

"The world grows. We grow small. Like violets on an old path, the world fills the cracks of our being. We are invaded by life in all its complex beauty and weather into relationship with the material world. We soften. Just as bricks lose their hard edges, their constituents crumbling back into soft clay and tiny stones, so too, we find our resting place in the greater processes of life. No need to defend now. We are surrounded by the light of life, and in it we dance."

(From Caroline Brazier's The Other Buddhism)

...crumbling back into soft clay and tiny stones...

(if this is your first visit, start here)

Jessica at everything feeds process made this exquisite little journal for her small stones. I'm very jealous. 

People are still signing up for the river and some are getting rather excited about it. I'm glad. We should be excited, because this project is about engaging the world. 

It is not about creating wonderful writing, although that is sure to be a by-product. 

It is not about beating ourselves up if we miss a day or can't get our small stone to look right. 

It's about attempting to put all that aside, and be curious in our object, the 'other'. What does his voice sound like? What is the texture of that crinkled leaf? What does the colour of that bird remind you of? 

What we're aiming for is to grow small, as Caroline has written below. Let's dance!

"The world grows. We grow small. Like violets on an old path, the world fills the cracks of our being. We are invaded by life in all its complex beauty and weather into relationship with the material world. We soften. Just as bricks lose their hard edges, their constituents crumbling back into soft clay and tiny stones, so too, we find our resting place in the greater processes of life. No need to defend now. We are surrounded by the light of life, and in it we dance."

(From Caroline Brazier's The Other Buddhism)

Two days... an exercise, and your experiences

Not long to wait now.

If you'd like to get some practice in, here's an interesting exercise I found via Matt at Morden Haiku - the author has given me permission to link to it here.

If anyone would like to make some notes about the experience of writing small stones, I'd be interested in seeing them - email them through, or blog them, or both. It might be interesting to use some quotes from you all in the introduction to the book we make.

There's still time to join us... you don't have to let us know, just start writing small stones on the 1st!

More surrender

Another helpful reminder from whiskey river:

"Peace requires us to surrender our illusions of control. We can love and care for others but we cannot possess our children, lovers, family, or friends. We can assist them, pray for them, and wish them well, yet in the end their happiness and suffering depend on their thoughts and actions, not on our wishes."
- Jack Kornfield

Surrendering our illusions of control. Phew, easier said than done!

I'm feeling much better - physically and emotionally - just in time for the new year. I hope you had a lovely Christmas and that you're enjoying this strange time-in-between - more fallow time...

I'm enjoying a couple of new books I got for Christmas - my good friend Sage Cohen's The Productive Writer (I have an interview with her here on the 8th of January) and a book of selected writings by good old Brenda Ueland.

And more and more drops are joining our river - go see, and think about joining us. It might help you connect with something mysterious...

Three days... reaching out beyond our small selves

(if you're new here, welcome...)

At the moment I'm reading The Other Buddhism by Caroline Brazier, which speaks about Pureland Buddhism - the biggest school of Buddhism in Japan, but still relatively little known here in the West. 

Pureland encourages us to connect with what is 'other' - to reach out to that 'mysterious something' - what whispers to us when we encounter an awe-inspiring landscape, or a small unexpected comfort. 

What does this have to do with small stones?

Writing small stones is another way of reaching out beyond our small selves to what is 'other'. 

After encouraging us to investigate a small piece of ground, which will contain an infinite variety of objects (only some of which we can see), Brazier says:

"...even on a material level, the other is a great mystery. When we struggle to relate to it, we fall back into personalised approximations. Keeping our sense of wonder and our willingness to encounter the other requires a special kind of reaching out."

Whatever your spiritual leanings, we will need 'a special kind of reaching out' to find our small stones. 

And what else might we find?

Four days to go... or five if you're just waking up (and your help needed)

I hope you all had marvellous Christmasses. We were both feeling a little peaky but we're on our way to recovery. And we have lots of chocolate-eating to catch up with.

There have been a healthy number of hits on the site today, and we're getting new people signing up all the time. It's only four days before we start. How did that happen? 

So for the last push...

Do follow us @ariverofstones on Twitter if you're not already, and keep letting people know what you're doing on Facebook etc.

Finally it'd be a great help if you could send this email to ten writers and ten non-writers - choose a few people you think would be interested and a few you're not so sure about - you never know! 

Thanks for your help, we much appreciate it - it wouldn't be a river without you, it'd be a little trickle. We'll be back tomorrow with an exercise to get your writing juices going.  

*

Hello – I’m taking part in a new project starting on January the 1^st and I thought you might like to join me.

In an attempt to pay more attention, I will be noticing one thing properly every day (a bird eating berries, a child playing in the street) and writing it down. People from across the world will be joining me and we’ll be creating a ‘river’ of these short pieces of writing.

You can write them down in a notebook or on a blog – and it doesn’t matter if you’ve done any writing before or not. The purpose of the project is to help us to pay attention, and to start the year as we mean to go on.

If you’d like to join us find out more at http://ariverofstones.blogspot.com or email fiona@fionarobyn.com for more information.

It’d also be lovely if you could forward this email to five friends you think might be interested.

Thank you!

On still being ill... and getting all upset

I felt BETTER yesterday evening.

I was jumping around the living room, so grateful for the feeling-of-not-feeling-awful.

Today was another bad day. We dug the car out of the snow. I burnt some biscuits (I'm blaming it on our dodgy oven). And I felt rubbish.

Day 7. And feeling just as rubbish as I did on day 2.

I feel down too. I started googling 'post-flu depression'. There is such a thing.

And it's CHRISTMAS EVE.

On the way to put a baked potato in the oven just now, I finally picked up Michael Leunig's book, Short Notes form the Long History of happiness.

My friend gave it to me more than a year ago. It had been calling me all day.

I opened it at random. And (I'm not fibbing) this is what I saw:

*

The Common Cold

God bless those who suffer from the common cold.
Nature has entered into them;
Has led them aside and gently lain them low
To contemplate life from the wayside;
To consider human frailty;
To receive the deep and dreamy messages of fever.
We give thanks for the insights of this humble perspective.
We give thanks for blessings in disguise.

*

It's probably partly post-flu depression and hormones, but reading this is making me very grateful and teary.

Thank you Leunig. Thank you for that gorgeous painting which I just found on the internet. Thank you Alex for the present of the book. Thank you, whoever you are, for arranging for me to find it just now, when I needed it the very most.

*

Happy Christmas everyone. I'll be thinking of you, and ESPECIALLY if you're not looking forward to Christmas this year, for whatever reason. We're all in it together, really. I know you're here with me. We'll all be with you.

Happy holidays....

Me and Kaspa would like to wish you all a VERY merry Christmas or non-Christmas.

We're going to be out and about for a few days, eating and opening presents. 

We'll return next week to let you know how the river is going. 

Until then, Namo Amida Bu (that's the Pureland Buddhist form of Namaste, or a little bow - substitute your own greeting/paying of respect/au revoir!)

surrendering (badly) to flu

Apparently this is the flu virus.

Pretty, isn't it?

When I get ill, I feel rubbish for a day or maybe two, and then I'm up and about again, back to life.

I was in bed all day Saturday, and felt awful Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. I felt worse again yesterday and was back in bed all day. Today - marginally better.

This illness has been a real exercise in surrender for me. I'm usually so in control of things - I'm an expert getting-things-done-er. I'm not so good at letting go. Not so good at being looked after.

I will try to see this pretty flu virus as a reminder of how little I really AM in control of, and how much I have to be grateful for - I'm usually so healthy. I have plenty of food, warmth, friends, books... for now I'll batten down the hatches and try to be patient with myself.

I hope you're well, wherever you are, and I hope you have a MARVELLOUS Christmas.

9 days. "Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.”

This is one of my heroes, Brenda Ueland. She wrote the cult book about writing - If You Want To Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit. Brenda believed that "Since you are like no other being ever created since the beginning of time, you are incomparable", and "Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.”

She believed in the importance of moodling for all creative people, and she believed we should approach our creative tasks without egotism and without fear of failure. She said a lot of very sensible and fiercely encouraging things.

I'd like to offer a little of the spirit of Brenda today, to those riverofstone participants who haven't been writing for very long, and who feel all wobbly like a just-born calf. It's perfectly normal. Writing does that to you.

We must learn to write through it - the times we feel we'll never write anything worth reading, or that we don't have anything exciting to say. Remember what Brenda said. "Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.” That means you.

Keep your gorgeous small stones coming. We're so enjoying reading them.

10 days. Fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor.

And the snow continues.

Walking on the white Malvern hills a few weeks ago, we were struck by the stark beauty of a crowd of skeleton rosebay willow herb plants (Kaspa took this photo).

Writing small stones is a bit like taking a photo. When you carry a camera, you are also carrying a particular 'way of looking'. Would this work? Which angle would I approach it from? How does that colour look against the sky?

When we are carrying a notebook, we are trying to open all of our senses at once - to be open to receive whatever is before us. Fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor. Denise Levertov speaks about this 'way of being' in her poem, below.

We're not going anywhere today. You can only see the very tops of the wheels of my red Fiat 500, Rosie - and even if we dug her out she's not very good in the snow. I'm staying by the fireside with my cats and laptop and earl grey. And my notebook. And my small-stone-seeking eyes/tongue/ears/nose/fingers.

*

Looking, Walking, Being

"The World is not something to
look at, it is something to be in."
Mark Rudman

I look and look.
Looking's a way of being: one becomes,
sometimes, a pair of eyes walking.
Walking wherever looking takes one.

The eyes
dig and burrow into the world.
They touch
fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor.
World and the past of it,
not only
visible present, solid and shadow
that looks at one looking.

And language? Rhythms
of echo and interruption?
That's
a way of breathing.

breathing to sustain
looking,
walking and looking,
through the world,
in it.

Denise Levertov

A peek at the river.... (from the riverofstones blog)

"The small stone is the briefest of poems, somewhat related to the haiku and the American Sentence forms (only without the strictures of syllable counting and whatnot). But process is what’s important here — knowing that there’s a moment out there in the day that waits your noticing it puts you in a state of hunter’s receptivity. And then the writing of it becomes a meditation on intensity, simplicity and presence."

This is how Corvapriya describes small stones on her gorgeous blog, InkSeeds, and I must say I couldn't have put it better myself.

I'm really pleased with how the spirit of small-stone-writing has been resonating with you folks out there.

As Sami says on her blog, 'sami, curiously', "i have but one resolve: BE PRESENT. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ (for f*** sake! why is it so damn difficult!?!)".

It is difficult. It's why serious spiritual practitioners spend 10 hours a day on their derrières or months in a cave or years in the wilderness, trying to let thought after thought (after thought after thought...) go.

We can wake up, one small stone at a time.

If you haven't already, check out The River of Stones at the top of the blog. Isn't Kaspa clever. It's all done with pipes, you know. And do follow us at Twitter @ariverofstones, where you'll also be treated to a stream of lovely stones. And do keep telling your friends (thank you). We're getting around 700 hits a day, and 1100 on Sunday alone, which is very heartening. And keep in touch!

(Thank you to Carolee for today's beautiful image. Hop along to her blog for more gorgeousness.)

11 days. Judicious use of the f-word, and waking up

"The small stone is the briefest of poems, somewhat related to the haiku and the American Sentence forms (only without the strictures of syllable counting and whatnot). But process is what’s important here — knowing that there’s a moment out there in the day that waits your noticing it puts you in a state of hunter’s receptivity. And then the writing of it becomes a meditation on intensity, simplicity and presence."

This is how Corvapriya describes small stones on her gorgeous blog, InkSeeds, and I must say I couldn't have put it better myself.

I'm really pleased with how the spirit of small-stone-writing has been resonating with you folks out there.

As Sami says on her blog, 'sami, curiously', "i have but one resolve: BE PRESENT. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ (for f*** sake! why is it so damn difficult!?!)".

It is difficult. It's why serious spiritual practitioners spend 10 hours a day on their derrières or months in a cave or years in the wilderness, trying to let thought after thought (after thought after thought...) go.

We can wake up, one small stone at a time.

Join us.

If you haven't already, check out The River of Stones at the top of the blog. Isn't Kaspa clever. It's all done with pipes, you know. And do follow us at Twitter @ariverofstones, where you'll also be treated to a stream of lovely stones. And do keep telling your friends (thank you). We're getting around 700 hits a day, and 1100 on Sunday alone, which is very heartening. And keep in touch!

(Thank you to Carolee for today's beautiful image. Hop along to her blog for more gorgeousness.)

Planting Seeds: The perfect Sunday

Today we had the perfect Sunday.

We walked together on the Malvern hills, with a fine covering of snow and veils of mist transforming the landscape into something magical.

We bought home-made brownies and silver tea-spoons from Sri Lanka and a lilac silk scarf from a pop-up Bazaar in the next village.

We cooked the perfect Sunday roast - stuffing made with sunflower seeds and mushrooms, crispy roast potatoes and parsnips, extra-cheesy cauliflower cheese, bright peas.

I made some more Christmas cards whilst Kaspa read my novel (you heard about that last week.) The cats were close by, fast asleep, happy.

Even so, there was suffering. I spent most of the morning trying-to-warm-up. We had a difficult conversation in the afternoon. I had a few panicky thoughts about money.

A couple of months ago I was full of the stress of moving and I couldn't find a way to slow down. Little things tipped me over the edge. I complained (whined really) to Kaspa that I didn't want to miss out on living.

He reminded me that this WAS living. Stressed or not, chilly or not, panicky-thoughts-about-money or not. All of it.

The perfect Sunday. Feeling slightly-too-full. Knowing there is a fresh banoffee pie waiting for me downstairs. With the crick in my neck from using the laptop on the floor. Everything.

Things to be curious about

Do you feel disappointed when your perfect days or plans or expectations are ruined by 'things going wrong'? Could you include these things in your perfect life? How would this affect your experiences?

Quotes

Happiness can exist only in acceptance.
~ George Orwell

Mindfulness is the aware, balanced acceptance of the present experience.
It isn't more complicated that that.
It is opening to or recieving the present moment, pleasant or unpleasant, just as it is,
without either clinging to it or rejecting it.
~ Sylvia Boorstein

*

This is from my newsletter Planting Seeds - go here to sign up.

And don't forget to go and see how our river is growing.... join us!

river of stones - the book (12 days to go)

We're very excited about the small stones that will soon be appearing on websites and in notebooks across the world. 

We have lots of fine experienced writers already signed up, and we'll also be discovering lots of brand new authors... what a scoop.

It seems like a terrible waste not to preserve some of these stones for posterity. 

What we're suggesting is that when the project is finished, anyone who'd like to be considered can send us their ten favourite small stones. We'll choose our very favourites, and compile them into a gorgeous book. 

Whether we can include a small stone from everyone or not will depend on how many people become involved, but we promise we'll pack lots of corkers in. 

Excited? We are...

(here's more info about my book of small stones. the river of stones will be MUCH better though.) 

The River of Stones

(if you're new, go see this post first...)

Hello lovely stone writers,

It's been wonderful to see people start writing already, and to taste the anticipation of those yet to write. I wanted to be able to see everyone's writing all in one place so I spent a couple of hours yesterday creating The River of Stones.

As of today (19th December 2010) it includes everyone who has created a new blog just for their stones, and everyone who has started posting in their existing blogs and has put those posts into a category.

If you are using you own blog please do create a category for your "small stone" posts - that way I can filter out the stones and add them to The River of Stones. It will make my life easier if you all use the same name for your category - so I'm going to suggest aros.

I created this using Yahoo! pipes. To get the river of stones widget go to Yahoo! pipes 'a river of stones' and click get widget.

Twitter feed
You can follow The River Of Stones on Twitter: @ariverofstones
and look out for posts tagged #aros


If none of this makes any sense, or you have any questions, please do leave a comment below.

13 days to go... new improved badges (again)

(if you're new here, pop here first)

No, it's not another spelling mistake.

We originally used 'NaSmaStoMo' so our river of stones was instantly recognisable to people as a writing project.

We think this has worked, and we've had a very enthusiastic response so far from people across the globe.

However, Na is short for National, which of course the project isn't. So after prompting from a new 'river of stones' participant we've redesigned the badges to reflect this.

We'll use #aros as our hash tag on Twitter from now on.

I'm already excited about 'a river of stones 2012' so it's worth taking the time to get this right.

If you would LIKE the new badges please feel free to help yourself, but it really doesn't matter - they're just as recognisable in the old form.

The other change I've made is to 'officially' add Kaspa as a curator of the project. He's doing just as much as me, especially on the techy bits, so it seems only fair ; ) It's lovely to be working on something together.

An exciting announcement tomorrow....

Happy Sunday!

14 days.... 100 of us so far

100 of us so far.

Madeline shows us a stone she's had for a long time here. And Rosemary writes more about paying attention.

More of us are starting early - here's one from Kelly, here's one from Susan, here's one from Vanessa. Is it just us women who are impatient?

Extra chuffed today that we will be enticing jem from -a sound of splinters- to start writing again... her blog will be the sound of shingle.

Keep in touch, let me know if you've started practising, and how you're helping to spread the word.

Enjoy your Sundays.

15 days - an actual small stone

(if you're new here, have a look here first...)

Isn't this beautiful? 

It's from the odd inkwell, who will be swimming in our river. I look forward to seeing more.

We have some impatient folks (in the best sense of the word) who have started posting their stones - keep an eye on the blogroll on the right to see them. Once we're started I'll choose a few a day to post here.

After we're finished, I might make something with our small stones - an e-book or something - I'll have a think. And I'm hoping to have a good stock of shiny stones for my blogzine, a handful of stones. You can join the group on Facebook, you know, or just come and say hello to me. 

So, things are going swimmingly, thanks to you, and your badges, and your sharing-the-link-on-FB-and-Twitter. Lots of non-writers are getting involved too, which is extra-lovely. 

We're working on something special over the weekend... we'll be back on Monday, enjoy your last weekend before Christmas!

Rivers and my compulsion

It's cheating a bit to write a blog post by linking to another blog post, but hopefully less so when it's your own.

It's been lovely to see new people signing up to a river of stones, and to see those badges around and about (especially now there isn't a spelling mistake on them).

And you really must read the poem by Kooser. Go.

16 days to go - my compulsion, and what's better

Yesterday I got a bit caught up in compulsion - how many people will get involved? Where are visitors coming from? How can I make it more popular? Do people like it? Do people like me?

It helped to remember my reasons for starting this project.

I wanted to inspire people to notice the world around them.

That's it.

I'd be happier if three thousand people did this secretly, in their notebooks, than if three people did it publicly.

I'll get caught up in chasing the statistics again - it's who I am. But it was  such a relief to remember that it doesn't HAVE to be popular. It's just my offering. It's up to you what you do with it.

*

There are some lovely new homes for stones - here's one James has made, and Avril will be placing her stones beautifully here.  Dorothee has written an article about us here. People are using our lovely badges (which are now spelt correctly!) and tweeting about us and sharing our link on Facebook. Let me know what you're up to. And thank you to everyone.

I'll leave you with something Ted Kooser beautifully observed - via the wonderful Writer's Almanac. Happy Thursday.

*

Walking beside a creek

Walking beside a creek
in December, the black ice
windy with leaves,
you can feel the great joy
of the trees, their coats
thrown open like drunken men,
the lifeblood thudding
in their tight, wet boots. 


Ted Kooser

17 days - three methods, and spot the deliberate mistake

Finding small stones is a lot like beach-combing.

There are three methods.

The first is to become available.

Tune in to the world, and small stones will present themselves to you everywhere. You'll notice the precise blue of the sky, and the music of the wind in the long grass. You'll notice the exact words that woman in the shop used with her child. You'll feel a nagging urge to write them down.

The second is to go seeking.

Put your small-stone-seeking senses in and look/listen/feel/smell/taste around you. What can you find? What strikes you? Put the choicest examples into your notebook.

The third is to trawl your memory.

This is a cheat, really, for when you remember you haven't written your small stone just before bedtime. What did you notice today? How much of it can you remember? In my experience, these small stones are never quite as vivid as the ones caught 'live', but it still means you've paid some attention to your day.

Do write and let me know how you're getting on.

*

Spot the deliberate mistake. 

Elizabeth was the first to alert me to the spelling mistake on the badges (participating).

Did you see it?

If you did, this means you'll be a very good small stone spotter.

If you didn't, you have a way to go, just like me ; )

The correct badges are now up on the right hand side, and the correct html is here. If you've got an old one, feel free to replace it or keep it and see how many people have their observational skills switched on!

Do not assume

"Do not assume that he who seeks to comfort you now, lives untroubled among the simple and quiet words that sometimes do you good. His life may also have much sadness and difficulty, that remains far beyond yours. Were it otherwise, he would never have been able to find these words."
— Rainer Maria Rilke

Just in case anyone missed it on Facebook yesterday, here's a quote from Rilke via Luke at Crashingly Beautiful - I've come across it before and was equally struck by it.

I suppose it has extra relevance to me as a therapist and a coach. It gives me permission to be human, and to continue helping, and to know that we can still be helpful as flawed and bonbu human beings.

It also helps me to remember that my teachers are human too.

Deep bow to all the teachers. Writers, friends and family, stranger-on-the-street, spiritual teachers, school teachers, the whole caboodle. They are everywhere, and their lives have much sadness and difficult.

_/\_

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We've had almost 2000 hits in the first few days of lauching NaSmaStoMo. If you'd like to join us and write something little every day during January, swim along to a river of stones.

18 days - magic and porridge

(If you're new here, go here first.)

Porridge. I just ate mine, drizzled with (compulsory) golden syrup. My cat Silver has a very sweet tooth, and so she's been staying close.

Now I've finished she's given up on syrup and is sitting on the table next to the lap-top and has turned her attention to the birds in the garden outside. There's something very exciting going on out there, if her tail-swinging is anything to go by.

Magic. That's what friends are, and the internet is.

More people and more people are signing up for NaSmaStoMo - joining with us as we write a little piece of observational writing every day during January.

There are some beautiful small stone blogs appearing - here is Melissa's, and Sharon's, and someone I know quite well.

There are some fantastic writers signing up - some you may have heard of - Sarah Salway, Dorothee Lang, Deb Scott, and some of my personal favourites - Jessica Kramer, Mark Holloway, Kirsten Noorgard (who will be posting mostly in Danish).

And I'm extra-pleased that people with no history of creative writing are also signing up - people who will be writing along at home in their notebook.

And people are using the badges, and talking to their friends, and getting excited just like we are.

Magic.

Keep in touch. Let me know what you're up to. 18 days to go.

Planting Seeds: Old words

I've just been making Christmas cards from gorgeous blue and white Japanese paper and pearlescent snowflakes whilst Kaspa reads my second novel, The Blue Handbag.

Every so often he lets out a chuckle.

Lots of thoughts have floated through my mind. Is he enjoying it? What is he thinking about how well it's written? Does he like my much-loved character, Leonard, and is he annoyed by Lily? What am I saying to him right now?

Being a writer means that I leave my words behind me wherever I go. A trail of stories. Who was I when I wrote The Blue Handbag? I hadn't met Kaspa. I had distant dreams of publication. I still worked as a trainer for a big corporation. I wasn't a Buddhist. I liked banoffee pie (like now). I had two cats (like now) and loved to garden (like now). The same. Different.

As a writer, I have to learn to let go of my old selves, my old stories, my old words. Kaspa might enjoy The Blue Handbag, and he might not. The person who wrote it no longer exists, and once I finished writing it, it wasn't mine any more anyway.

I do hope that others enjoy my old words. But as a writer, my job is always to find new words. To work at the edge of becoming. Fresh words, like the fresh snow falling right now.

Things to be curious about

Do you hold on to the old you, to old stories, in a way that prevents you from finding fresh words? What stops you from letting go? What would it be like to become new, like fresh snow?

Quotes

Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure. But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transience, we suffer.
~Shunryu Suzuki

I have died so little today, friend, forgive me.
~Thomas Lux

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This post is from my weekly newsletter - to sign up, click here and tick 'Planting Seeds'. 

Day 2 - a flying start (and a confession)

Since launching the NaSmaStoMo project yesterday afternoon, I've been overwhelmed with people's response.

More than forty people have signed up to join us in writing a small stone every day during January.

Blogs are now sporting our smart badges, and people have been writing about NaSmaStoMo on Facebook and on Twitter. Much gratitude.

I would also like to confess. This morning I discovered that someone else had a very similar idea before me. Great minds think alike, there are no new ideas under the sun, and other clichés.

Luckily they've chosen February as their month. So now you can start the year as you mean to go on, and then go on...

An exciting announcement - NaSmaStoMo is born! Are you in?

I'm very excited.

You might have heard of NaNoWriMo - where you write a novel in a month.

Introducing NaSmaStoMo. TA DA. During January, we will all be writing a little observational piece (also known as a small stone) every day.

This will help us to notice the world around us, and ourselves, and will generally make us better citizens and happier chappies.

So are you in?

You can find out more about the project at the headquarters at a river of stones, and I'd love it if you could help me spread the word by tweeting, Facebooking etc. the link and generally getting excited about the idea just like me.

Yay!

Welcome to a river of stones!

(If you’re reading this after the 1^st of January, it’s not too late to join us. Just notice one thing properly today and write it down in your notebook, or on your blog. You can either carry on until the end of January or do 31 consecutive days. You can then submit your writing for inclusion in our ‘river of stones’ book in the middle of February. Read one for more information!) 

Novelist Fiona Robyn and her fiance Kaspa are curating a new event beginning on January the 1st 2011: a river of stones.

Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to pay attention to one thing every day during the month of January and write it down. We call these pieces of writing small stones. We're especially interested in both 'writers' and 'non-writers' taking part - it's not about the finished product, it's about the process.

What is a small stone? 

A small stone is a polished moment of paying proper attention.

You can see many fine examples at our sister blogzine, a handful of stones. You can read more about the birth of the concept of small stones here and how to write them here. There are some examples of my own below.

Why would you want to join in?

Because choosing something to write about every day will help you to connect with yourselves, with others, and with the world. It will help you to love everything you see - the light and the dark, the happy and the sad, the beautiful and the ugly.

You don't have to be a 'writer' to get involved. The PROCESS of paying attention is what's important. I'd especially like 'writers' and 'non-writers' to get involved. If you'd rather not publish your small stones on a blog, you can write them in a note-book. It could change your entire year...

Will you join us?

How you can get involved: (all optional - I'd love it if you just wrote along at home!)

1. Any help with spreading the word would be much appreciated. Put the badge on your blog, pass this blog address on to your friends, interview me or mention the project on your blog, put details about 'a river of stones' on Facebook and Twitter, email your friends or tell them what you're doing over coffee and cake. Write 'a river of stones' in the sky with your little aeroplane.

2. Let me know the web address where you'll be posting the small stones and I'll add you to the blogroll here.

3. I'll be sending out occasional emails to let everyone know how we're getting on - if you'd like me to include you in these, send me an email (telling me which blog is yours) to fiona@fionarobyn.com.

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11 month old Florence says look!
every ten minutes there is something new to fill her up with awe

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today I saved the life of a pocket-sized mouse -
he had twitching whiskers and trembled in my hand

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the moon is so transparent you could slip a thumb-nail under the edge and peel it from the sky

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Three days later the sleeping fox is still stretched out on the same patch of grassy verge. The wind makes waves in his pale biscuit fur.

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The buds on the magnolia trees are pink-tinted and fat. Pull up a chair; wait for them to go bang.

Adding a river of stones badge to your blog

  

If you'd like to add one of the badges to your side-bar, here's the html you'll need:

This one for the dark stones:

<a href="http://ariverofstones.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ahbbkOEBQhQ/TQ4DW5_f0BI/AAAAAAAABuM/7fHAdCzjB9k/S250/inbadgeone.jpg" /></a>

This one for the pale stones: 

<a href="http://ariverofstones.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ahbbkOEBQhQ/TQ4DcyNBHsI/AAAAAAAABuU/bbNuByCspDg/S250/inbadgetwo.jpg" /></a>

Let me know if you get stuck! (thanks Kaspa)

A lovely rejection, and a lovely mention (gravy)

I've girded my loins in order to start sending my fourth novel, The Most Beautiful Thing, out to agents again.

I had a lovely rejection this morning from Rogers, Coleridge and White:

"The Most Beautiful Thing is atmospheric and engaging, but I am afraid...."

To have a personalised response like this is truly gravy, and it'll keep me going as I continue sending it out. Us writers need to learn to get sustenance where we can, as it's often a long and lonely road.

And as a bonus, Catherine from Juxtabook has blogged about The Blue Handbag this week - suggesting it to her blog readers as a Christmas present.

In fiction, apart from recommending my top ten books of the last ten years, may I suggest something from the small independent presses. I recommended The Blue Handbag by Fiona Robyn last year and I have no hesitation in recommending it again with the proviso that you should ignore the cover as it bears no resemblance to the contents. You can read my review of The Blue Handbag here.

So thank you Catherine, completely unexpected and very much appreciated. I'm extra chuffed as she has very good taste!

What sustenance have you received today? What will keep you going?

Be lovely and do no harm (and I need your help)

I'm 'borrowing' this from Robin's blog, gemini on twin creek, as I thought it was very lovely:

"I would be converted to a religion of grass. Sleep the winter away and rise headlong each spring. Sink deep roots. Conserve water. Respect and nourish your neighbors and never let trees gain the upper hand. Bow beneath the arm of fire. Connect underground. Provide. Provide. Be lovely and do no harm." ~ Louise Erdrich, Big Grass

Be lovely and do no harm. A good thing to aim towards.

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I also wondered if you might be able to help. I'm moving towards a new 'tagline' for this blog and other things I do, which is about using writing as a tool to help us all move towards something good - happiness, healthiness, greater knowledge about ourselves and others and the world, being more spiritual...

I want a word that will point towards these things, something like 'writing my way towards joy' or 'writing my way towards wellness' or 'writing my way towards love' but none of those seem quite right. I like the last one best but it sounds a bit soppy.

Any ideas? Leave them in the comments! Thank you!

Happy Bodhi Day! (and a request: what poem inspires you?)

It's the anniversary of Shakyamuni Buddha's enlightenment, if you go by the Japanese calendar, which we do in Pureland.

(Handy having a Buddhist priest as a beau sometimes as I can sound all learned (I want to put an accent over the e but I'm not learned enough to find out how, ha ha)).

I've stolen this lovely painting of Mara's naughty daughters from Kaspa's blog, where he will tell you more about the story of enlightenment.

I would like to share a short piece of writing that I'm getting more and more from the more I say it - like all good poetry. Hopefully Kaspa will say something about where it came from in the comments (hint hint).

For me it reminds us of how important it is to be inspired by someone (in this case Dharmakara is inspired by the Buddha), and how it can help us to persevere despite great difficulty, and to make the vow to want to help all living things to discover this inspiration too. Something like that.

But really, like all great poetry, the words work on you underneath the surface, if you let them. Just read it a few times. And then a few times more.

If anyone else has any poetry, from religious contexts or elsewhere, that are inspiring to them, please post them in full in the comments. I'd love to read them.

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The Life of No Regret

Your radiant face,
Like a mountain peak
Catching the first burst
Of morning light
Has awesome and
Unequalled majesty.
Like black ink by comparison
Are the sun, the moon, or the "mani" treasure.
Tathagata,
Such is your incomparable face.
The melody of your enlightenment
Fills the world
Rare and precious
Are your precepts,
Learning, energy, meditation,
Wisdom and amazing virtue.
The oceanic Dharma
Of all Buddhas
Which you fathom
To its deepest depths
Dispels the 3 poisons
From the heart -
You are like a lion:
Valiant and divinely pure.

Great power!
Deep wisdom!
Awesome light!
Reverberation -
A prayer I make, a Buddha to become
Equal to you, my Dharma king,
To lead all beings to the other shore
Leaving none behind.
The six paramitas
To perfect
With prajna at their head.
Should I become Buddha:
I will fulfil
This prayer completely:
To everyone
I'll bring great peace.
To Buddhas countless
As sand grains
My offerings I make,
And do not flinch
From the trials
Of the incomparable Way,
Powerful,
Straight and true.

Though Buddha lands
And worldly realms
Be numberless
Like sand,
By sheer power
Of aspiration
I'll fill them all
With light.
Let me become a Buddha
And the multitude
Of beings
Will all enjoy
My primordial
Nirvana world.
By indiscriminate compassion
I will enlighten all.
Reborn here from no matter where
In my country their hearts
Will lighten and be joyful,
Happy and at ease.
Oh you Buddha, witness my vow,
My true aspiration,
Establishing my vow on you
Gives me the strength to fulfil it.
Buddhas throughout space and time
Of unimpeded wisdom
Always witness
My heart's practice.
No matter the obstacles, the hardships,
My practice will endure
Through all,
Without regret.

Tan Butsu Ge

Planting seeds: Without egotism and fear of failure

"Kindergarten was a lovely thing. [...] In the latter half we went to the tables. We strung colored beads. We sewed with pretty wool on cards. We cut out colored paper and pasted it. What wonderful creative absorption! What comfort and fun! That absorbed, hushed, happy feeling, infinitely slow and leisurely, without egotism and fear of failure. After a lifetime of anxiety and strain I have found that this is the way to work at everything."


This is Brenda Ueland speaking, in her auto-biography 'Me'. 


I've had a busy week. Like Brenda, I've been struggling with anxiety and strain. And like Brenda, I know in my heart that I can choose to do it differently. 


Infinitely slow and leisurely. Without egotism and fear of failure. Just updating my website. Just doing the washing up. Just calling the bank. Just laying one word down after another. 


How to get from one state to the other? The first step - to catch myself when my thoughts start whirring too quickly. 


There's no second step. But the first step has to be repeated over and over and over and over and over again. With infinite patience. 


When I notice, I take a deeper breath without trying. I let the thoughts go on whirring without me, and I return to my task, a little slower, a little more leisurely. A little more disconnected from my ego and my fear of failure. Like sewing wool and pasting coloured paper.


Things to be curious about:


Can you identify with the feeling Brenda describes? When do you achieve it? What takes you further away from it? 


Quotes:


One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important.  
~Bertrand Russell


Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.  
~Pablo Picasso


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This post is from my weekly newsletter - to sign up, click here and tick 'Planting Seeds'. You can find out more about my coaching practise here - I offer a free twenty minute taster session (or one email session), just drop me a line.

A winner, and my secret life

Here I am with some of my lovely sangha.

It occurred to me this morning that I hadn't told any of my close friends about the fact that I was joining the Amida-Shu yesterday. This is a body of people all over the world who practice Pureland Buddhism, and who come under the umbrella of the Amida Trust based in Narborough (where I'm also doing my Buddhist Psychotherapy training).

It's an important step, and it formalises something that has already happened, a feeling closer to the family of Amida. The people, and the practice, and the precepts.

It makes me think about how many important things my friends don't tell me about, and about how our lives often consist of separate parts which are deeply meaningful but that don't necessarily mix with each other. I speak very little publicly about my work as a therapist in private practise, because of the importance of confidentiality.

And maybe it's also good to share. I don't usually share photos on Facebook, but this morning I've allowed my photos to remain 'tagged'. I wanted to show you this photo. I've emailed it to my friends. It's a part of me. You might not be interested. You might think religion is weird (I certainly did for most of my life). That's OK. It's a part of me. I'm proud of it.

And doesn't Tony's moustache look magnificent?

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Thank you to the readers who commented yesterday, and who comment - it's always lovely to know that people are reading and getting a little mental sustenance, as Julia said, from what I write here. Do say hello even if it's just to say (o) (which is a short cut for I was here, I'm listening, thank you).

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The winner of The Blue Handbag is Katie - congrats! Do email me, Katie, and I'll get it sent out. Others will have to buy it for themselves - here's the link on Amazon UK and Amazon US. If you buy it, that'll be your Christmas present to yourself and to me - two birds with one stone : ) (not a small stone though)