Horizon Therapy/Back to School (updated Sept 4)

Atlantic Coast near Deauville, August 31, 2016DSC02927


From the Online Etymological Dictionary site:

horizon (n.) Look up horizon at Dictionary.comlate 14c., orisoun, from Old French orizon (14c., Modern French horizon), earlier orizonte (13c.), from Latin horizontem (nominative horizon), from Greek horizon (kyklos) “bounding (circle),” from horizein “bound, limit, divide, separate,” from horos “boundary, landmark, marking stones.” The h- was restored in English 17c. in imitation of Latin. Old English used eaggemearc (“eye-mark”) for “limit of view, horizon.” The apparent horizon is distinguished from the celestial or astronomical horizon.

From wiktionary.org:

horizon ‎(plural horizons)

  1. The horizontal line that appears to separate the Earth from the sky.
    A tall building was visible on the horizon.
  2. The range or limit of one’s knowledgeexperience or interest.
    Some students take a gap year after finishing high school to broaden their horizons.
  3. (geology) A specific layer of soil or strata
  4. (archaeology, US) A cultural sub-period or level within a more encompassing time period.
(line separating Earth and sky): skysillskyline


So what is on the horizon as we start a new school year? The next level we want to reach? The limit we want to  transcend? Our intention for our next circle around the sun? Personal? Professional? Global?

As I sift through answers, I remember a song I heard kids singing at Wayfinder Experience bardic circle campfires:


There are many versions, lyrics adapted from a Chinese proverb and put to music by Sharon Durrant…

When there is light in the soul

There is beauty in the person

When there is beauty in the person

There is harmony in the home

When there is harmony in the home

There is honor in the nation

When there is honor in the nation

There is peace in the world


To the light in our souls   xxxxx Aliss


Flying over France…


My Paris, hard to come back this time, so much going on before I left, sad to leave my family and friends in the US, sad vacation is ending…long wait for our bags, announcements about highest-level terror alert…in the back seat of our taxi in from the airport, sit with my eyes closed, not just for lack of sleep…are 1000 refugees still huddled on the corner of my street? How will I help them?

Sunday noon, neighborhood almost empty, carry our bags into the building, first blessing: trees and flowers in our courtyard, still quiet. Ah, real coffee and baguette…unpack a few things before jet lag knocks me out. Doze, wake, doze, wake, watch Olympic round up on late-night French TV live from Rio and cry. Even sports announcers here use beautiful, precise language, commenting on a montage of passionate athletic performances by French and international athletes I never saw on NBC…almost no commercials, no blaring ads for cars and fast food, a very different outlook on our world… I’m thankful to see it from this vantage point…

Feel torn, so far away from loved ones…how has my life turned out this way? Not easy trying to be a bridge between the US, France, and Russia. Please help me use this gift, for compassion between nations, find the right words, for peace in me and around me, please help me keep perspective….

to be continued…xxxxx Aliss

Summer Days


Waterfall, Hurley Mountain Road, NY

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver

Thank you Krista Tippett for the reminder