Morning Meditation

I have gotten into the habit of beginning my day with meditation.  It justseems that my day goes better if I can start off with this practice.  In the beginning it felt like a duty - now it is something that I look forward to.  I take my cup of coffee or tea, do a couple of readings, and then sit still before my little altar.  Before I settle I offer prayers, then try to be still, receptive. 

Often I use Robert Ellsberg's book, All Saints: Daily Reflections on Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses for Our Time.  He includes traditionally recognized "Saints" and also many people whose lives offer models of living that are inspiring.

I like John O'Donahue's poems, using his book To Bless the Space Between Us. 

Lately, I've been reading from Jan Richardson's  In the Sanctuary of Women. She has wonderful short pieces that are perfect for reflection.  I want to share this morning's poem with you, and if you find this intriguing, you may want to look for her book. In this chapter she is reflecting on the work of Hildegard of Bingen and her depiction of the Virtues as women.

Longing Stands Next to Patience

Longing would sometimes
like to be assigned
a different spot.
Would like to be less near
this one who approaches everything
with such equanimity.
Would like some distance
from the measured way
that Patience marks time,
holds herself with such politeness
toward its passing.

Patience knows this
about Longing.
Accepts it,
even loves it about her.

This makes Longing
crazy.

Patience has not told her
she has some envy
of Longing's perfect ache
or that she thinks
it must be an art
to hold oneself
so perpetually poised
toward the horizon.

For her part,
Longing has not confessed
that there are days
she finds Patience restful.
Soothing.  A relief.

Meanwhile,
by little
and by little,
so slowly its appearance
will startle them both,
a horizon is drawing near.

May you find the guides that bring joy, peace, and gratitude and challenge to your days.

 

 

 

 

 

Vacation Work

Doesn't this sound like an oxymoron?  When I go on vacation, I always pack some art supplies .  I know other artists who do this, too.  But there's a limit to what we can take.   A larger issue is that we may be inspired to do very different kinds of work.  I don't like to impose an agenda on this time - I like to see what develops.  So I don't always know what to choose to bring along.

Al and I go back to the same place every year.  We know where we're staying, where we'll pick up food, what the options are for  recreation and entertainment.  But, of course, the experience is totally different from year to year.  The weather is a huge variable.  New people enter our lives.  New creatures leave their imprints on our hearts.

Even though I have a good sense of where I'll set up my "studio", I don't know until I get there what is going to spark the creative juices.

So this year I arrived with some watercolors and acrylics, brushes, paper, sketching materials.  And I waited a couple of days.  Nothing.  It was gorgeous weather.  The view from the deck of our cabin was glorious.  We savored the delicious fresh fish, lovely organic vegetables.  We took wonderful walks, picking berries, gathering stones, nourishing ourselves with the scenery, revelling in the relaxed rhythms.

Then the full moon rose over the Bay of Fundy.  It was so magnificent!  And I knew what my project would be.  I got some preliminary work painting done, and have a lot of work still to do at home before it will be completed.  But it was so engaging.  And it felt right for that time and place.  It actually enhanced my appreciation of being there.  We tend to think of work as taking away from our play time, our pleasure.  But in the best of worlds it deepens our experiences, satisfies us in a way that superficial "fun" would not.  It is a practice in patience to to wait for the creativity to emerge.  And it is a matter of trust.

Inspiration from Quotes

Robert Fulton Quote - Acrylic and Ink on Paper

Sometimes  you come across a quote that is so rich in imagery that you find yourself running for your pencil or paints.  The other day I was looking through  a Kaatskill Life Magazine and there was a nice little article on Robert Fulton.  It felt serendipitous because they used some photos from the Hudson River Maritime Museum in Kingston, NY, where just last week I'd left some work in their gift shop.  The quote used at the beginning of the article was this: 

"As the component parts of all new machines may be said to be old, it is a nice discriminatory judgement, which discovers that a particular arrangement will produce a new and desired effect... Therefore, the  mechanic should sit down among levers, screws, wedges, wheels, etc. like a poet among the letters of the alphabet, considering them as the exhibitions of his thoughts; in which a new arrangement transmits a new idea into the world."

I love this statement.  It IS poetry, and seems to fit so many creative processes, whether art, music, writing, scientific discovery.

I had to start getting this down on paper.  Here is my first attempt.

Rumi and the Groovaloos - Art and Inspiration

One of my favorite lines from Rumi is "Let the beauty you love be what you do. There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground". Maybe at first the connection between a thirteenth century poet and mystic and a contemporary hip hop group isn't that obvious. And I'm not insinuating that I'm an expert about either of them. But the connection is what comes to mind after my trip to New York yesterday to see a Groovaloos performance.

This started out as a Christmas gift for my grandson (see previous blog 'A Business Lesson'). Shawn and I were both so excited about the concert itself and the idea that we'd get to meet the cast after the show. I was expecting skillful and energetic dancing, lively music, and hoping that the performers would be as gracious as my few brief contacts with Bradley Rapier's wife via Twitter. And I was hoping, also, that Shawn would see something that would somehow inspire him, to see that there are things worth working for.

Our experience surpassed our expectations. The show was fantastic! There were life stories movingly or explosively told through music, dance, poetry, and individual voices. There was such connection with the audience. It didn't feel like just performance. You were brought to care very much for each of the dancers. I thought of so many young people who face similar conflicts, roadblocks, and decisions - who may not have the outlets provided by movement, but who might be encouraged by these stories to find their own paths.

The audience was invited to meet the cast after the show in the lobby - autographs were signed, pictures were taken, conversations were going on all around us. I was so impressed by the graciousness of the group.

The difference between art and craft is much debated. For me, the distinguishing factor is that the artist makes meaning out of the tools at hand. So something can be beautifully made - but it would be the meaning of it that makes it art rather than craft. And there was plenty of art in this production.

One of the most inspiring stories of the group belongs to Stephen Stanton, who suffered a spinal cord injury in 2003. Told he would not walk again, he shows up on stage, often with his cane, but definitely not only walking, but dancing. I loved that among this group of young people who often look like rules of gravity do not apply, he demonstrates that dance is so much more than just a well behaved body. It makes me wonder "So as these dancers age, will they still be telling their stories through their movement - what kind of art will they be sharing?" Maybe it will be through teaching, maybe they will morph into other things like so many of us do. But I have to admit that I would LOVE to see an older version of this sometime. If we learned nothing else yesterday, we were certainly inspired to dream - and pass it on.