Light-Inspirations by Adriana Sjan Bijman

Cows at Loch Fada

2011-12-15T10:27:00.000-08:00

The Isle of Skye is a fascinating island on the Scottish west coast. From Findhorn it is quite a journey, but even the travel towards it is worth. Meandering along Loch Ness (Nessy has only appeared to me once, on a very dark winter’s day). Driving through the Highlands. Meeting the mountains, the moors and the many lakes, often called ‘lochs’ on the way. A bridge connects the mainland at Kyle of Lochalsh with the island itself. I love tracking between the brown, peat coloured hills. There are empty left farmhouses. In the middle of nowhere cattle crossing the road, gates open. The fresh water loch ‘Loch Fada’ in the near distance. Cows and young bulls, reminding me of home and the farm in the polder I grew up in. When the young cows come outside for the first time, they don’t know yet how to use all their four feet and they jump all over the place. Almost as if they take off to fly.

Waves are coming in - at Findhorn Beach

2011-10-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

Regularly I go beachcombing at Findhorn Beach after a high tide, when the pebble beach gives space again to the endless sands. Then you can see the seals sunbathing on the banks far out in the sea where once was a village. Then, especially in spring and autumn, there are lots of ‘findings’ to catch at this part of the Moray coastline. Aplenty of colourful seaweed are coming in with the high tides from the deep ocean. Kelp, Pod razor shells, Red Rags, Sea Oak and Lettuce, and all kind of Wrack: bladder, flat, horned, knotted or toothed. Sometimes tree stems and branches and leaves in all autumn colours are brought back in by the river water, carrying the memories of a summer in the forests of the Scottish Highlands.

‘There is so much magnificence near the ocean

Waves are coming in’ *

· * as sung by Miten and Deva Premal

© Adriana Sjan Bijman PhotoArt, October 2011

How precious it is to be human

2011-09-12T07:07:00.000-07:00

One night I dreamed I had two children which I so totally and unconditionally loved, that the remembrance of that love in the dream totally nourished me in the daytime world and I felt very loved too. I did not take my life and love for granted.

How rare and precious it is to be human, not because it is better than other life forms, but because we have the amazing capacity to make choices.

Findhorn, 12 September 2011 © Adriana Sjan Bijman

The sacredness of dancing

2011-08-11T03:39:00.000-07:00

Anna Barton, the first and from 1979 until 1996 the main focaliser of the ‘Sacred Dances’ in Findhorn, once made a t-shirt with the slogan “Dance can help to change the world. Do it!”. Good eh? Dancing definitely works, not only on the body, but on the emotions and thoughts too is my experience. During the 5 Rhythms we take the energy outwards. When dancing the Sacred Dances (or Dances of Universal Peace) from all over the world, we draw the energy flow inwards and then move it outwards again, like breathing, ongoing spiralling.

During this summer’s Findhorn Sacred Dance Festival week we celebrated and let the music, the song and the unending whirling dance weave our lives together. The ‘Ceilidh’ evening with Scottish country dances was one of my favourite. Come and let me swirl you around.

Would you like to dance?

Findhorn, July 2011, © Adriana Sjan Bijman

A crack in time

2011-07-16T13:36:00.000-07:00

For seven years I lived in the north-east of the Netherlands, in the provinces of Groningen and Drente. The area where all the 54 still existing Dutch ‘hunebedden’ can be found. I revisited some this spring. A ‘hunebed’ or dolmen is a kind of cairn or cromlech. They were built and part of a northern megalithic culture some 5.500 years ago. It is said these dolmen, once covered with earth, were burial chambers. Maybe I’ll still find a potsherd or a bead.

The mysterious collection of boulders plays its own timeless role. ‘There's a crack in everything, that's where the light comes in....’. The light arrives from thousands of years back between these huge ‘hunebed’ stones. I crawl inside, under the covering stones and lying on the soft slightly damp earth I connect with the powerful energies of the place. And for a little while, which could be an eternity, I breathe with the ones buried deep under here. Sometimes I come with a question, sometimes I come with a gift; but always I leave enriched.

Zeegse/Tynaarlo, Drente, the Netherlands. © Adriana Sjan Bijman

A pilgrimage walk at Skye

2011-06-06T04:12:00.000-07:00

I went to the Isle of Skye for some days and once again the immense beauty of Scottish nature totally positively overwhelmed me. The lochs. The seas. The moors. The ancient mountains rocking. Streams and waterfalls replenishing me through eyes, ears and skin. Rusty ferns on gentle hills holding us all.

I walked my own little pilgrimage walk, meeting the many wonderful colourful faces of God. Gratitude for eyes to see; for a heart to open.

I am sure about it: God speaks to me, not only in words, but in images. Thank You!

Growing Light

2011-05-19T06:09:00.000-07:00

© Adriana Sjan Bijman 2011

While I wake up

early morning after The Green Thursday

I touch the breathtaking light growing into the new day

into my heart

and wonder

how long I can keep it to stay

and if I can let go while it moves again, away

from my stay at Son Rullan, at the west coast of la Isla de Mallorca, April 2011 © Adriana Sjan Bijman

Burn the Clavie!

2011-03-16T10:38:00.000-07:00

“BURN THE CLAVIE!“

old barrel wood and oil and tar

blackness

on fire !

shouting primal chanting men

and we answering

our screams HOYA

“FIRE !”

flames

hissing spitting gripping tearing

“BURN THE CLAVIE!”

swept by the crowd pushed carried

away by the flames

the red fire that

called the pagan woman in me

yelling hissing spitting

a fire being

more tar more oil more

red and orange

then black clouds filling

our skies our earth

We burn the clavie!

Coal smears in our hair

Our bodies still filled

with fire

As we see the ghost leave

And the sky lifts

And later we go home to our clan

with a half burned barrel wood

which will bring us luck

for a full year

Happy new year!

Each year the New Year old pagan fire ritual is held at Burghead in the north-east of Scotland: The Clavie.

Walking on Water

2011-02-15T05:52:00.000-08:00

The Delta is immense. Early mornings the gentle sound of the water called me and I took some long walks, starting along the river Esperita. I walked and walked, turning left, right, along the water, into the forest. The delta is immense. I got lost amongst the many wooden piers at the waterfront. I got drunk between the fragrance of unknown colourful flowers, ripe falling juicy oranges and enchanting high bamboos. I walked and walked.

Was I maybe following the footsteps on this path of the native Guarany Indians who lived here; long long before the Spanish explorers came to this area to settle, take, and kill the Indians. Or were they attacked by the Yaguareté, the american jaguar or ‘tigre’, that lived in the delta and was hunted by the indian for their skin and fat; but which also hunted them? The ‘tigre’ is not extinct yet….

And then, as I walked my way between the lands, crossing stream after stream via the dangerously swaying bridging woods, I only could surrender, to become part of everything around me.

And then … then I was walking on water.

The Tigre Delta at the river Paraná near Buenos Aires in Argentina has been declared ‘Biosphere natural reserve’ by Unesco. A photo-installation about the walks has been exhibited in The Blue Angel, Universal Hall at Findhorn from 12 February until 12 March 2011

Light written

2010-12-31T04:05:00.000-08:00

The Light written on the walls

Her presence coming into

This morning

Joy of Life

2010-11-13T10:31:00.000-08:00

This immense cactus just grows from a pot in a very small terrace in front of a house pressed against a window. Its huge beautiful white flowers celebrating life –as it looks to me! I found it in the town Tilcara, province of Jujuy in the Andes Mountains in the north of Argentina.

November 2010

Life and Death

2010-11-13T10:19:00.000-08:00

Autumn, Scorpio-time, Samhain and Halloween, when the veil between the world is thin…. In all cultures, from Mayan, Celtic to catholic these times have been celebrated and honoured.

I am aware of the ongoing cycle of live and saw it confirmed by these plants growing from a large mausoleum tomb in Buenos Aires at Recoleta, at which cemetery also Evita Perron lies buried; her spirit still alive for lots of Peronistas. Look at a cemetery to see how people and how a culture deals with death.
October 2010

Light Once

2010-09-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

In the streets of La Boca in Buenos Aires I saw this play of colour, light and shadows. There is a story why all the houses are so colourful. When the first Italian immigrants came to Buenos Aires, they started to work in the harbour and shipyards of the river ‘La Plata’ in the capital. They settled in ‘La Boca” (The Mouth), where they builded wooden houses. To paint their houses, they were allowed to take home the leftovers of paint used in the shipyard. This created a very colourful, now famous quarter of town.

On the left you see these funny electricity boxes, which all houses show on the front wall. Is it important for your neighbours or visitors to see how much electricity you have been using (this could become a great environmental control issue) or is it just easy for the electricity company to read your meter? No idea. I liked being in between the light and shadow of the trees.

Aug 2010

Shadow and Light

2010-09-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

This image pops up every now and then in my photo-archive. I love its simplicity: the little shadowed meadow with the light reflection of the window on it. There was more to it though. I made this picture when I was lying in bed very ill for months, facing big questions like ‘if I still can see the light when I seem to be surrounded by shadow?’ and ‘Can I say ‘yes’ to life, when death is luring?’ I did answer ‘yes’, to the fullest, and recovered. My neighbour, who could see the same meadow from the other side, committed suicide.

The Big Inspiration

2009-02-25T04:01:00.000-08:00

Inspired people, inspiring flowers

Someone first answered to my question what or whom inspires them: "I am inspired by myself" Then: "No, no, I'm only joking". But I wondered: Is it not at least 50% true? Or 100%? Does the 'being inspired" by something or someone outside of ourselves, not just trigger or resonate with the inspiration living dormant inside of us? "It: being part of The Big Inspiration, called to us at exactly the right time place to wake us up to this now. At that moment of inspiration there is no separation, I experience Oneness.

Inspired = In Spirit.

May all humanity be inspired and may it be expressed with love.
Big words, anyway I was very inspired by the simplicity and beauty this Spring of a daffodil. Of all flowers, our lovely daffodil. Show me fields full of it please!