Saturday, June 18, 2016

White Heron

Illustration created by Judith Parsons Art 2016
Original art.
The first time the white heron came to tell her about the crossing over of another was in Tampa, FL. Apollo Beach to be exact. It was a breezy day, the sort of day the palm trees swished their palm leaves together making a magical music only known to tropical regions. 
Her mother-in-law was in the hospital and her prognosis did not look good. She drove home from work and pulled into the drive way to find a flock of heron standing in her driveway.

They didn’t mind the car pulling in beside them, five feet away they stood, twelve of them looking at her. The wind was blowing their feathers, it was a slow motion moment. She looking at them and them looking silently back. She knew then it was to foretell of her mother-in-laws passing. They were their to give a heads-up on her mother-in-laws death.

She ran inside, called her sister who was a nurse and asked her to call the hospital that her mother-in-law resided in to find out the prognosis. All the vitals signs were poor and the mother-in-laws death was pending. The white crane had forewarned. It was the first of many times.

The white heron showed up in her life to foretell of coming deaths. 

There were times when a flock of white heron flew beside her car and they ALL flew across her path. She cried as she drove. She knew the death was coming, and she never knew for whom the transition was for.

The heron became apart of her art. As she drove into town to do her errands she would come across herons that had been hit by cars along the road, she would stop and pick up the heron. She believed God was gifting her with gorgeous wings to use in her art.

Her children knew when she saw a white heron what it meant, she’d say: “There is a white heron.” She’d point it out, and they all would wait to see if the heron would come over to cross their path. They’d all sigh and long deep sigh of relief when it didn’t cross their path.

The other day, she was walking out the front door to go on her errands. She turned to survey the beauty of the day, the green hills, the sunny gardens and out of her peripheral vision she saw the heron coming toward her. She stood gulping, feet unable to move. The heron flew over the house and fifteen feet away from her. She sighed, she said a prayer.
Then day before yesterday she was leaving the mall and a heron flew upon a tree top and then settled upon a nest. She pointed it out to her partner, trying to point the nest out, trying to make her see what she saw. However, it was not to be seen by another.

The white heron woman unfurls her wings and flies to her place upon the shiny rock. She transforms into her human form and rest upon the warm stone, letting the sun become her blanket from above and the warmth from the stone melting her from beneath. She rest trusting in the great unknown. 

Trusting in the white heron.

Friday, June 17, 2016


Original art created by Judith Parsons Art 2016

Almost a week in Ireland, and I am back in heaven. I have forgotten how nice it is to have conversation. I have missed playing in the garden and doing dishes. You would think I have lost my mind.

You know that I live in San Francisco. It is a noisy city. It can not be helped. Outside of my window is tennis and basketball courts and there is constant thudding of the basket ball and screams of joy or frustration at the volleyball game. While here, there is an occasional dog barking down the street. There is the silence of the breeze. The contrast is not lost upon me.

While in the city, I do not talk. The Southern Savannah woman has learned to hold her tongue. You know how Southerners tend to be, easy to talk to, never met a stranger... we chat, we is what we do. 
Most of the older folk in the area of China town do not speak English, so what I might have said 3 years ago…a compliment given upon the bus, is no longer made. The silence I am aware of. Here, with Anita and her mom, Maggie. The conversation flows easily, we chat about nothing and everything and my river of language is flowing again.

Here, in Anitas little kitchen there is a window view of a lovely mountain of green, the sheep graze and birds glide by. I put on the music and I wash dishes, looking out the window watching the golden light move and enjoying the light.  The photograph upon this page is from the back garden, looking to the left. It is divine.

Most of my time is spent making art in San Francisco. There is no garden, no plot of land that I go to sow seeds or to trim roses. While here, there is a green house and there are 20 small rose plants that Anita and I have been cultivating as our babies. She has been a good mom, tending and caring for the cuttings that we rooted 9 months ago. There is much pleasure in assisting a plant along, watching its growth. 

Oh, and the car deal. I could go on for days upon that subject. The ability to purchase groceries and not have to worry about pulling my arms out of there sockets, because of the weight of the bags, is amazing.

Everything is relative. It is so simple…so easy to see. I am humbled by my life. I am blessed to have this miracle of a home to come to visit. It is magical and incredible. Sure, the quiet, the conversation, the quaint kitchen, the garden, bathroom and the car all make this abode incredible…However, the love and laughter that we share is the miracle. It makes me glow in warm light—my toes are barely touching the ground.

It is in the small sweet things that make life worth living. THIS is heaven upon earth.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

Walk with me...the time has come to cross.

Photo from facebook.
Tweaked image using illustrator and photoshop.
Judith Parsons Art 2016

I was going to write about the ripples that wind and water make upon sand. I was going to ramble on about the way the sand looks like water…However, as I played with the photograph that is trending right now on Facebook…I played with the doorways.

I learned the word: “threshold” from Anita Boyle. She is a Reiki master. She lives her grace and is an incredible energy to behold. She introduced me to John O’Donohue, to his incredible divine writings.

The words below are John O’Donohues. They speak about change and rising to the next floor up. That is how I think of my spiritual quest…THIS is how I live.
I will stop rambling on..and let you walk along the river trail of white sands…I will let you sit upon the sand—and rest, reading these words. When you are finished reading…DO me a favor, please.
I would like you to look at your feet, as you stand upon the white rippled sand, and I would like you to meditate upon what you desire. Take a few minutes to let your highest self tell you…what you deeply desire.
Then slowly let your eyes travel along the sand and look to the horizon. You will see what you want. Before you. Smile, and sigh…breathe that vision in.
That is all, happy reading!!

From To Bless the Space Between Us, John O’Donohue

The beauty of nature insists on taking its time. Everything is prepared. Nothing
is rushed. The rhythm of emergence is a gradual slow beat always inching its way
forward; change remains faithful to itself until the new unfolds in the full confidence of
true arrival. Because nothing is abrupt, the beginning of spring nearly always catches
us unawares. It is there before we see it; and then we can look nowhere without seeing
Change arrives in nature when time has ripened. There are no jagged transitions
or crude discontinuities. This accounts for the sureness with which one season
succeeds another. It is as though they were moving forward in a rhythm set from within
a continuum.

To change is one of the great dreams of every heart – to change the limitations,
the sameness, the banality, or the pain. So often we look back on patterns of behavior,
the kind of decisions we make repeatedly and that have failed to serve us well, and we
aim for a new and more successful path or way of living. But change is difficult for us.
So often we opt to continue the old pattern, rather than risking the danger of difference.
We are also often surprised by change that seems to arrive out of nowhere. We find
ourselves crossing some new threshold we had never anticipated. Like spring secretly
at work within the heart of winter, below the surface of our lives huge changes are in
fermentation. We never suspect a thing. Then when the grip of some long-enduring
winter mentality beings to loosen, we find ourselves vulnerable to a flourish of possibility
and we are suddenly negotiating the challenge of a threshold.

At any time you can ask yourself: At which threshold am I now standing? At this
time in my life, what am I leaving? Where am I about to enter? What is preventing me from crossing my next threshold? What gift would enable me to do it? A threshold is not a simple boundary; it is a frontier that divides two different territories, rhythms and

Indeed, it is a lovely testimony to the fullness and integrity of an
experience or a stage of life that it intensifies toward the end into a real frontier that
cannot be crossed without the heart being passionately engaged and woken up. At this
threshold a great complexity of emotions comes alive: confusion, fear, excitement,
sadness, hope. This is one of the reasons such vital crossing were always clothed in
ritual. It is wise in your own life to be able to recognize and acknowledge the key
thresholds; to take your time; to feel all the varieties of presence that accrue there; to
listen inward with complete attention until you hear the inner voice calling you forward.

The time has come to cross.

To acknowledge and cross a new threshold is always a challenge. It demands
courage and also a sense of trust in whatever is emerging. This becomes essential
when a threshold opens suddenly in front of you, one for which you had no preparation.
This could be illness, suffering or loss. Because we are so engaged with the world, we
usually forget how fragile life can be and how vulnerable we always are. It takes only a
couple of seconds for a life to change irreversibly. Suddenly you stand on completely
strange ground and a new course of life has to be embraced. Especially at such times
we desperately need blessing and protection. You look back at the life you have lived
up to a few hours before, and it suddenly seems so far away. Think for a moment how,
across the world, someone’s life has just changed – irrevocably, permanently, and not
necessarily for the better – and everything that was once so steady, so reliable, must
now find a new way of unfolding.
Though we know one another’s names and recognize one another’s faces, we
never know what destiny shapes each life. The script of individual destiny is secret; it is
hidden behind and beneath the sequence of happenings that is continually unfolding for
us. Each life is a mystery that is never finally available to the mind’s light or questions.
That we are here is a huge affirmation; somehow life needed us and wanted us to be.
To sense and trust this primeval acceptance can open a vast spring of trust within the
heart. It can free us into a natural courage that casts out fear and opens up our lives to
become voyages of discovery, creativity, and compassion. No threshold need be a
threat, but rather an invitation and a promise. Whatever comes, the great sacrament of
life will remain faithful to us, blessing us always with visible signs of invisible grace. We

merely need to trust.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016


Original art by Judith Parsons Art 2016

Playing with art.

This past semester I dove into illustrator. I played with it and studied the book. You KNOW I am serious about something when I have the step-by-step book out.

I take one shape and then it magically takes upon itself to transform. I align and center the shape and then it distorts and grows and becomes another shape.


It is the best way to learn.

When we play and let the energy morph and swirl and spin all sorts of lovely art is born.

Don't dwell in any poor pitiful me dark places. Get out and play.

All sorts of miracles happen when you play.

Thank you for reading...

Going to play now!!

Friday, June 3, 2016


Original art created especially for this blog.
Art by Judith Parsons 2016
A week of heaven came into my life. A week where I got teary eyed every morning because of the energy I shared with my children. They have grown into excellent souls. They are wise beyond their years and have a glorious sense of humor! 

I am flying into the sun and stars with incredible love for my children.

Personally, the best situation in life is to have a true friend upon either side of you as you walk your journey in life. Yep, not just one, but two people. You have heard it from me before, and I will reiterate it again and again. 

We all stumble and fall. And it sure is a lot easier carrying another person with assistance. 

The perfect “Trinity”. My children are my first Trinity. Beside me they support and softly push me forward. They know how totally stubborn I can be, and they are nice enough to laugh with me about it. 

In the blink of an eye, the children that stressed you out because they were slobs grow up and leave the nest. Looking toward the horizon you want them to go and learn and experience the world. And every blue moon they come home to the nest and they wrap their warm strong arms around you and you KNOW everything is perfect.

The wheres, or whens, or what of the future really doesn’t matter. We are all going to get where we need to be, and where we want to be when the time is right.

Enjoy your Trinity. Enjoy the two people who walk beside you, and who soar beside you.


Sailing!!! Unfurled….

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

2 Again s s s

Original One-of-a kind illustration by Judith Parsons Art 2016
(Do not use with out permission)

Today is the second day of the new and improved me. Yep, just like the old washing detergent: Tide, that gets a new box and label. I am doing the same. I am going against the current to be reborn, swimming against the stream of life as it were. 
Rebirthing myself.
I dreamed about the salmon last night and will ramble on a wee bit, so you can get to know me.

The first card I chose was the salmon. I was working at the Monterey Herald, when Jill Jackson, a graphic designer, one woman actress and story teller, showed me the book. She introduced me to the “Medicine Cards” by Jamie Sams and David Carson. It is a fabulous book which comes with a deck of cards. Each card has an animal illustrated upon it, which tells us a lesson.

We walked out back behind the building and sat under a tree in the shade. I distinctly remember pulling the card and being impressed with the lesson of “wisdom/inner knowing”.

My grandmother was married to a Native American. Or so I was told. I never met the man, she fell in love with him and had a baby and then divorced him. I really wasn’t influenced by anything Native American until I met a photographer from the Tampa Tribune, Candace Mundy was the journalist who changed me. 

I remember walking out from work, the sun was setting, the golden orange was magical as it was highlighting everyones face. She was walking beside me, all of us heading toward our cars in the garage. She had on a khaki vest, with lots of pockets. I touched the vest and complimented her upon it, it had a awesome silky fabric. Later I discovered she had nothing on underneath that vest, she had been taking photos in the Florida sun and needed something to wear, to just get home in.

We would see one another around the building and we would talk about her family and her Native American family. Yet again-- the book is introduced  to me!  “Medicine Cards” by Jamie Sams and David Carson was going to keep appearing in my life until I bought it. 

It is a fabulous book which comes with a deck of cards. Each card has an animal illustrated upon it, which tells us a lesson.

The basic premise is this. God, the source, or what ever you believe in— guides you — will speak to you in what ever way you will best listen. If you are a dreamer, then you will dream your lessons. If you are a person that watches a lot of television then your lesson will be conveyed via that medium. God, being the magnificent infinite source will help guide you in what ever way you need to grow. Sam and Carson, the authors of Medicine Cards are very aware of the animals which cross their path and have created an incredible book to help us discover our lessons.

Now, the salmon. I shake my head at the lesson. I have come full circle with this lesson. I have been swimming up stream this past semester, I have been struggling against the current and am finally back to where I began.

I am spiritually home. Today is day two of my starting over. Struggling is how we grow, how the seed breaks through its husk, and how “the salmon returns to its place of creation.”

“If salmon has swam into your cards today, it may be telling you to trust your gut feeling and inner knowing at this time. Avoid the influence of those that may have hidden agendas or who manipulate events for their personal gain. Do you need  to reflect upon on the personal experiences that will help you decide whether the tide is ebbing or flowing in a direction that benefits your forward moment and growth?”

This summer I return to the first lessons of wisdom, back to my highest wisest self. The writing this summer will be a discovery of my Trinity, my truth. Thank you for coming to the edge of my water and watching the lessons ebb and flow upon my tide.

We are all connected together. Swimming, shining and soaring.