Tag: reflection

Miniature Art

My artist finally stirred again—quietly at first, then with intention—and decided it was time to create.

I first made a white-water rafting piece while in Chile, and this one is its miniature companion, brought to life here at home in Costa Rica. It’s not tied to a single memory, but to something we’ve always loved—the pulse of the river, the teamwork, the thrill of moving through wild water together.

The entire scene fits in the palm of my hand—about 6 inches long and 3 inches wide, waves and base included. The raft itself is just 2 by 3 inches, and the paddlers… no bigger than your little toe. Tiny, intricate, and somehow still full of motion.

It took most of the day to complete—hours of careful focus and quiet immersion. There’s something grounding about working so small, about shaping energy and movement into something you can hold.

Torn at Many Levels

The breeze gently caresses my face. The sound of the waves rolling softly onto the shore soothes me. A tree behind me in the jungle hums with cicadas. The tide is rising toward the full moon high, and soon we will move to higher ground. Soft music plays in the background. 

My day began with deep yoga meditation and a sound bath. 

I take a slow breath of clean, warm, salty air, leaving a faint taste of salt on my lips. My new friends are enjoying the surf. It feels blissful, almost trance-like.

This is my day of peace, and I offer any merit I gain simply by being kind, sharing it with all beings who are suffering.

I enter the sea, grateful for its coolness. The waves rise and crest in a foamy froth. The sun dances across the choppy water, stretching as far as I can see. I breathe and submerge beneath a crashing wave. Energy moves through my body as I rise again and breathe. Salt stings my eyes, and the current seems to flow out through my feet. The rhythm repeats, again and again.

I notice the contrast between heat and coolness and reflect on my own state of mind — peace alongside worry, tenderness beside ache. For a moment, I hold a gentle prayer for the safety of those who live for what is right, who serve not only themselves but others. My heart breathes toward their pain, their sacrifice, their suffering — with compassion and quiet hope.🕊️J