The Lens of Relationship

Grounding Ourselves in Connection

Making contact is the most direct way to be connected - to be in a relationship - with yourself and the living planet.… To be grounded is to have arrived at a solid place in the present. To be grounded is to come home - to yourself; to nature….

No benefit is felt without an investment in time, love, openness, curiosity, and patience. When we connect with nature, others or ourselves, a spark is ignited, emotions get involved, and we set off on a journey of what it is to know and be known. - Ruth Allen

Grounded: How Connection with Nature Can Improve Our Mental and Physical Wellbeing

I love how creative practice invites us to practice vulnerability through allowing ourselves to be seen and heard. When we practice creativity, we create safe spaces for things that are new to emerge and to witness each other in this work and this becoming. Community and connection are central to these spaces.

I am moved by Allen’s emphasis on making contact, and by the way she describes knowing and being known. It reminds me of a practice I read about for walking in nature. As you notice animals, plants, blooms, other people, also notice them noticing you. This might be easy for another person passing on the bike trail, or even for a bird singing in a nearby tree. How about for a tree in full bloom? Can you sense or imagine this tree recognizing you as you walk? An initial interest can develop into a relationship through presence, curiosity, the forming of habits, and the sharing of stories.

When I take photos visiting the same tree each day, I am recording the story of a particular spot near my home. I find shelter at the foot of a giant oak tree, feeling the rough bark at my back and the sun on my face, hearing the rustle of leaves, the call of birdsong and the plop of a bullfrog in a pool nearby. Lately I am awed by the rapid transformation from winter’s bare branches to a glow of new green all around me. This relationship began with daily visits to one large tree. As the seasons pass, I am getting to know the smaller saplings and seasonal plants, delighting in new leaves on branches and mayapples on the forest floor.

oak bud in hand, oak leaves unfolding, mayapples

At the same time, this place is witnessing my story. My short walk into the woods offers a break in my day, a chance to reflect and check in with myself, and a time to be in relationship with the plants and animals that also frequent this spot. The path I wind through the undergrowth changes with the seasons; right now it bends around the larger clumps of wild blackberry bushes and ferns behind our fence. I’ve written before about the path I take as a desire line worn into the landscape with frequent use. This shaping of a path with my movement is a way I make my story part of this place.

This lens of relationship opens up new possibilities. It takes some of the pressure off; we don’t have to figure it all out on our own. We just need to show up, listen, observe, and be open to the living beings around us.

One of last year’s beech leaves, released as new buds emerge. It reminds me of worn notepaper resting in the grass.

Chronicling My Courtship with Creativity

I meet with a small group each week to review our week and look toward the week ahead. We travel with questions that ground our conversation; one that is repeated in some way each week is: what are you tending this week?

This week I wrote something new. I wrote “I am tending my relationships with customers.” It wasn’t that I was tending something new, it was that I had described it in a new way. Typically, my list has included: my writing, my creative practice, my Etsy shop, my home and family. If there was a big project on the horizon, I might have listed that too. In spring and summer I mentioned tending my garden.

The shift came when I noticed I was tending not my shop but my relationship with customers. Part of this was practical, I have several outstanding orders, I am not so much tending the shop as connections made through my shop, I am in the follow-through stage.

In retrospect, it’s interesting and helpful to notice I also could have said “I am tending my business obligations” or “I am tending to order fulfillment.” I am so glad I didn’t see it that way. That’s another shift but one toward drudgery rather than connection. Tending relationships takes away some of the pressure and concern with performance. It is not about the product; it is about the relationship facilitated through an exchange. By framing my task as tending relationships, I opened up a window to think of other tasks in that way too.

I write a newsletter to tend my relationship with readers, to share connection through my writing. Thank you for being a part of this relationship and participating in this connection with your reading.

I tend my relationship with the place where I live; this happens partly through planting and gardening and partly through visiting with the same tree each day, noticing what’s in bloom, and observing the forest behind our house.

With my family, we are headed into a season of transitions with my youngest son's high school graduation and my oldest renting his first college apartment. It’s my relationship and connections to my husband and sons that are central, that’s what I am tending and what grounds me amid the transitions in locations and life stages.

The lens of relationship opened up a more expansive way of seeing.

I would love to hear if there is anything in your life that might shift by looking through a lens of relationship?

Observing peony blossoms and their relationship with bees.

Connections and Conversation around Courtship

The premise of my book is that we are all creative. We nurture the relationship with our creativity through practices.

Practices are practical. That is they are practice-able. They are things we can do.

When I think and write about practice, it is in service of relationship. Skills improve with repetition; that is part of it. However, it is about more than just technical mastery, it is about the relationship to the creative act. We practice creativity as a way to live into creativity as an act of being. This encompasses many spheres of life from traditional arts like painting, music, theater, and dance, to the way we parent, care for our homes, cook, and interact with coworkers.

The past few months, I have been working on the first section of my book, focused on introducing the idea of courting creativity. I describe this through three examples: courting your beloved, courting the wild and courting spirit. I have touched on each of these in earlier newsletters.

As I wrap up my first draft of writing in these next couple weeks, I would love to hear your thoughts on this topic and what you have read so far. Feel free to comment below or hit reply to share some thoughts.

• How would you describe your current relationship with your creativity?

• What practices help you maintain or deepen your relationship with creativity?

• What might you like to change or shift in your relationship with creativity?

• Where are you looking to spark something new in your relationship with creativity?

Thank you for reading and being a part of creative community through this newsletter.

With a grateful heart,

Kathryn

Today's tree visit.