Tag: faith of a mustard seed

The Transformative Power of Art: A Visit to Tamarack

by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

“Do you still feel up for going to the Tamarack?” my husband asked.

A Heavy Heart and a Planned Escape 🚘

Days earlier, we had loosely planned a day trip. The goal was to stop in Charleston for brunch on the way to Beckley, to nose around the galleries and marketplace of the Tamarack, and then return home, making a couple of quick errand stops along the way. Unfortunately, my spirit had been bruised by life, as sometimes happens, but despite feeling down, I agreed to go in the hopes it would be a pleasant distraction.

The brunch and drive along the WV Turnpike were heavy, filled with somber, clarifying conversation as my husband tried to help me clean out the closet of my cluttered heart. Tumbled, but not fully dried from an onslaught of despair, I entered the Tamarack lightened by our discussion, but still damp with distress. My intention from the outset was not to make a purchase, but instead soak up the vibrant and creative energy of the art, and by proxy the artists, who created it. 

Echoing my own feelings, Stella Adler stated, “Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one.”

Entering the Tamarack: A Sensory Shift

Once through the doors, I observed a crowd of people and wondered if this had been a good idea after all. Meandering to the right of the entrance, I surfed the sensory wave. Aromas of Appalachian-inspired cooking filled the air. A long line of people snaked around the fast-casual dining room as I made my way to the ladies’ room. Tamarack’s signature circular shape surrounding an open courtyard created a light and spacious feeling, even during this busy, pre-holiday time period. A multitude of glass windows, adorned with locally designed, gemstone-colored stained glass pieces, radiated an additional cheery warmth. The animated energy of visitors’ conversation added a rhythmic pulse to a popular sing-along soundtrack playing in the background. 

Letting the Atmosphere Settle the Spirit

As I allowed the wave to immerse me, I soon noticed that my breathing and pulse had slowed, tensions were eased, and the emotional flames were beginning to quell. Despite my earlier qualms, I could feel the atmosphere offering a form of calming consolation. The simple act of getting lost in the admiration and appreciation for each artist, and the art pieces they created, nourished my spirit. 

Wandering the Galleries: Beauty in Every Craft 🖼️

Allowing the natural flow of the galleries to pull me along, I took in richly detailed textiles and exquisite, delicate glass pieces. There were complex and intricate woodworks and artisanal earthen and pottery wares. Tables of WV grown and/or crafted wines, beers, ciders, soaps, candles, and one-of-kind foods/beverages were also available. 

I also stopped by the book nook, filled with locally written fictional and nonfictional books, novellas, cook books, maps, travel guides, and other artfully written materials. Additionally, there was a separate gallery, bright with ample natural light, filled with one-of-a-kind WV paintings, sculptures, prints, and photographs. 

Art as Memory: Echoes of Loved Ones 👵🏼

Allowing the current of creativity to slowly move me at will, the art grounded me into the present moment as I mindfully soaked up the vibrant energy. Different pieces evoked precious memories of loved ones: quilts of my grandmother’s attic, pieces of furniture and toys handcrafted by my husband’s grandfathers, earthen dishes that were reminiscent of family holiday casseroles, paintings and photographs of forested hills during the fall and winter months similar to those I hiked with my siblings and father as a child, and hand sewn creations that my mother once made.

The Healing Power of Art 🎨

I was further reminded of the many art therapy majors with whom I had classes all those long ago years. They often described the important role of art in therapeutic and school settings, a truth supported by research. Creating art and observing art supports mental health and well-being.  It often helps with emotional regulation by creating an outlet in which emotions can be channeled. Art is known to reduce stress and is often used as a tool for creating a greater understanding of one’s emotional atmosphere. Works of art often create a connection/conversation between the creator and viewer, which can provide an opportunity for both personal and collective healing.

Creativity as Community Storytelling

This is because art, such as the works I viewed at Tamarack, is often a reflection of the emotional landscape of a community, region, or even country. How many colorful and varied life stories, events, and personalities, past and living, were being conveyed and connected all under one circular roof? Each stitch, stroke, cut, hammer strike, click, and spin breathed life into each creation that spoke to the heart and soul of human resilience and hope.

In the Company of Strangers: Shared Wonder

As I meandered through the gallery devoted to paintings and photographs, I often lingered on works that spoke to me. Simultaneously, I overheard a pair of women, who were gazing at a section of paintings by a Mingo County artist, speaking with near reverence about their own childhood experiences in the same area. Another couple whispered with one another at nearly every piece, laughing at the memories specific images seemed to evoke. 

Spaces of Belonging: More Than a Marketplace

It occurred to me that art galleries, like the Tamarack, create centers of belonging–gathering places that celebrate the human experience. These transactional spaces aren’t just about exchanging money; they also provide an interchange of ideas and stories between artist, piece, and viewer. Investing in these community hubs is an investment in one another, supporting each other emotionally and culturally. People leave the Tamarack with a taste of what it means to be Appalachian.

A Quiet Affirmation

Standing in that gallery, soaking up all of the intriguing and thought-provoking images, an employee shook me out of my reverie by asking if I was enjoying my visit. I nodded, stating that I was feeling lighter and more grounded than when I entered. She unpretentiously declared, “Art can do that for you.”

We chatted a bit more before I moved on to look through the prints outside the gallery. I still did not have any answers to my specific concerns, but I did have a sense of peace that comes from being heard. Not that I was literally heard; rather, the struggles and joys, the sadness and celebrations, and the wonder and the awe that went into creating these pieces “heard” and spoke to my own related emotions. It was the beginning of healing and hope that often happens when surrounded by reflections of inner beauty.

Leaving with Lightness and Hope

Thomas Merton is credited with stating, “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” My visit to Tamarack allowed such a juxtaposition: by surrendering myself to time spent with art, my capacity for healing renewal was possible. It served as a reminder. When we immerse ourselves in the present moment, we kindle the still, small voice within, our hearts and minds steady at the sound of this whispering inner-knowing, and we can rest assured we are being held even when the heaviness of life weighs us down. Perhaps that is the gentle promise held within art: when life seems overwhelming and hopeless, the beauty of art and/or the creative process is there to offer us wings of hope for rising once more.

Five lessons that a post-surgery completion of a half-marathon taught me

Featured by stephsimply, posted in Simple Observations and Musings

. . . For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed . . . nothing will be impossible for you.”–Matthew 17:20 (NRSVCE) 

Apple seed hopes 🍏

Back in April, my daughter, Maddie was having fun with the camera as we waited in a pre-operation room.

Recently, apples have been in season, and as I cut them up and deseed them, I can’t help but take notice of those small seeds–seeds full of possibility and hope.  And, while the seeds from those apples will no longer yield trees and fruit, the apple itself fuels my body as well as a hopeful attitude.

In fact, by the time you read this, Dear Reader, I can say with feelings of great joy that I completed the Marshall University Half-Marathon.  Albeit, that finish line was not quickly crossed, but because of seeds of hope, faith, and belief, it was nonetheless completed.  Besides, 13.1 miles is still the same distance, no matter the speed it takes to get there.

Walking into the pre-race packet pick-up, I was filled with hope.

For the record, I didn’t tell many people about my seed of hope outside of my husband and daughter because it was my own private manifestation of recovery.  In April, it seemed highly improbable.  However, as the months passed and my stamina improved, that seed of hope grew into a seedling and sprouted leaves of possibility.  

Fostering such a dream has taught me a thing, or five, as the case may be, and because running is really a metaphor for life, I thought I’d share those lessons with you.

Five Life Lessons from running 🏃‍♀️

The runners are off and running . . .

Lesson 1: Small beginnings can engender bigger accomplishments.  At the beginning of April, immediately following spinal surgery on my neck, I was told to walk every hour as part of my recovery.  Even “trips around the dining room table” added up, the nurses told me.  The first few days were not easy, but I followed their advice, walking every waking hour, 5-10 minutes.  Eventually, I worked up to 15, 20, and 30 minutes, a few times per day.  Even then, I was dreaming of one day recovering enough to complete another half-marathon, but I didn’t know if it would ever be possible.  Nonetheless, I tucked the dream into the pocket of my heart.

Lesson 2: Savor the good moments, but don’t let the not-so-great ones trip you up.

During recovery there were some pretty rough days.  I tried not to let on, or even name them, lest I give them power over me.  Instead, I kept thinking of Dory, in Finding Nemo, who taught all of us to “just keep swimming.”  And, that is what I did.  I kept swimming, even on the days it felt I was going against the current.  When Dr. Saulle and his staff gave me the green light to slowly, but gradually, add in bouts of running to my walking, I was cautiously optimistic.  Nevertheless, since I had not been running for over three months, it was painfully slow going, but I held fast to the dream tucked into the pocket of my heart.

Run your own race; set your own pace.

Lesson 3: Race your own race; set your own pace. Throughout the late summer, early fall months, I kept plodding-on, alternating bouts of walking with running.  Gradually, the time spent running increased while the time spent walking decreased.  Nonetheless, some days I just didn’t have it in me to run, so I just kept walking. 

By mid-October, only a few weeks before the actual event, I registered for the MU Half-marathon with my fingers crossed.  I continued my own plan of walking and running.  In fact, on the morning of the event, as my husband, John, and I crossed the bridge into town, a strategy came to mind: “Run your own race, Steph, and set your own pace.”  While I did plan to run with a pacing group, I also decided to listen to my body and not force anything once I hit the streets running as I held fast to the dream tucked into the pocket of my heart.

THE BEST SUPPORT TEAM EVER!

Lesson 4:  Allow yourself to be supported. Our daughter, Maddie, met John and me at MU stadium.  They offered to be my team of support early on.  John carried my special hydration mix–my stomach is super sensitive–and Maddie took charge of keeping up with where I was on the course, and ultimately ran mile nine and mile 13 with me.  

Additionally, I ran with pacers Chad Fischer and Aubrey Netzel (names from MU Marathon site) for the first three miles, but I found that I kept moving slightly ahead of them.  Therefore, I decided to take a leap of faith and continue to run on my own at a slightly faster pace. For several miles, I ran with a woman named Angie who was running the full marathon, but eventually, we separated. Therefore, I soaked up all the good energy surrounding the runners, allowing me to always feel supported as I held fast to the dream tucked into the pocket of my heart.  

Feeling grateful for the love and support! 💜

Lesson 5:  Feel and share your gratitude.  Throughout these past months, whenever I felt down or frustrated, I reminded myself to feel grateful.  This was especially true when running the actual event. There were scores of volunteers along the route, and I tried to verbally thank each one I encountered, although I am sure I missed some.  Many of those volunteers would cheer and clap for the runners, even though they had other jobs to do as well. There was an impressive police presence, keeping the runners safe. Plus, there were numerous organizations and clubs providing drink stations along the course.  Additionally, there were some really fun signs to read, such as, “You’re running better than our government,” and “Run like someone just called you a jogger.”  

By the last mile, running side-by-side with Maddie, my heart overflowed with gratitude. In April, I was walking 5-10 minutes at a time. Seven months and two days after the surgery, I ran a half-marathon with only one walk break.  There are so many people for whom I feel grateful who made my recovery and ultimately the half-marathon possible–family, friends, and co-workers. Most of all, I am eternally grateful for John and Maddie who never once doubted the dream tucked in the pocket of my heart.  

Nurturing seeds of hope pays off.

In the end, Dear Reader, if we plant seeds of hope, regularly water them with faith in our True Source, put in the effort and work, and, of course, “just keep swimming” with strokes of belief–even on the hardest of days, we can set our own pace for running our own race, however we define it, and watch as our those seeds of hope blossom into possibilities.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”–2 Timothy 4:7-8 (NIV)

Run your race, whatever it may be, your way!