Dappled
“The trees were dappling again.
They loved to dapple,
it seemed to be their favorite pastime.
They could use anything of course:
moonlight, starshine, candlelight, and rain.
Today they used the sunlight that the sky supplied,
and dappled nearly everything with it,
from grass, water, and stones,
to Lydia and Livy themselves
as they walked along the trail that led out of Mulberry Glen.”
— Millie Florence
Yesterday morning, I did not know what "dappling" meant.
As you might know, English is not my first language. I am always delighted when a new word comes along and enters my language repertoire.
It was Sunday morning, and my husband asked me what the German word for "dappling" was. German for him is what English is for me... Well, I could not help him there, I did not know. He said: "The dappling light is creating a picture on the wall. How would you say it German?" Long silence. Words like "gesprenkelt" and "fleckig" came up. Nothing gorgeous like "dappled".
Here is a bit of our research that followed:
The earliest known use of the verb dapple is from the early 1600s, in the writing of William Shakespeare.
"Dappled"
Meaning:
Marked with spots of a different colour; with areas of light and shade.
Examples:
(1) Sunlight was dappling through leaves.
(2) The floor was dappled with pale moonlight.
If I thought the English language knows how to express the beauty of the play of light, the Japanese really got it:
"Komorebi": 木漏れ日 (pronounced kō-mō-leh-bē)
"Komorebi" It is formed from the Japanese word for “tree,” 木, the word that means “to leak,” 漏れ, and the word for “sun,” 日.
Meaning: “sunlight leaking through trees,” this word describes the beauty and wonder of rays of light dappling through overhead leaves, casting dancing shadows on the forest floor.
To close the circle, in Māori poetry, bird imagery often intertwines with concepts of light, connecting human experience to the natural world through metaphors of flight and song. Sounds like they are experts in observing dappling in nature and creating mindful moments.
Since yesterday morning, I notice "dappling" everywhere: On the beach, in the garden, inside the house. I even noticed the dappling of light creating patterns on freshly hung laundry. I notice the light painting wavering images on the wall while waiting for the kettle to boil.
I am repeatedly in awe.
We become what we constantly do - or, as Aristotle said: "We are, what we repeatedly do".
What we repeatedly do is very much related to what we repeatedly think and notice.
If we are having a tough time at work, we may notice more and more "evidence" that we are not the ideal candidate. We do not notice the joy we get from the conversation with the receptionist or the rush of delight when we reached that milestone in the project.
Unless you make a plan to buy an orange car, you do not notice how many orange cars there are on the road.
We can choose what we want to notice repeatedly.
Do we choose to repeatedly notice the sock that did not make it into the laundry basket - or the hug we get from a loved one?
By having spent some time on the concept of "dappling", my brain was primed to notice the play of light in my surroundings. The effect? I experienced awe and wonder repeatedly that day. It made me feel frickin' good.
I was mindful. I paid attention, I did not judge. My nervous system relaxed, as did my body.
What do you want to repeatedly notice this week?
My invitation to you today:
Contemplate on what you want to notice more this week (Dappling light is just an idea - you choose)
Practice it now for 20 seconds to create a new neural pathway.
Notice how that feels
This is your time.
In awe
Yours kindly
Mel
