Blueberry View

I just came back from Blueberry View Artists’ Retreat. The Retreat, located about 10 miles north of Saint Joseph, Michigan, was started in 2010 by Janet Sullivan and her partner Mark Toncray, both sculptors from the Chicago area. Its purpose is to give artists a space to create away from the distractions of everyday life.

In addition to a cozy apartment and studio space, the Retreat features lovingly tended gardens and the blueberry fields for which it is named. And of course, the inspirational beauty of nearby Lake Michigan. I stayed at the Retreat for just under two weeks, using the time to work on a book I hope to publish later this year. Not only was I amazed by the amount of work I finished during just that brief time period, but I also benefited in other ways.

Taking a break from life’s distractions – phone, internet, television, social engagements and the like – is an opportunity to focus on the things that really matter. A successful retreat, then, is not just a vacation or time away from home, but a time to reflect on values and priorities.

I think that one of the keys to living well is to know what you value, and to spend your time accordingly. In that case, it pays to ask a couple of important questions:

  • Do you know what really matters to you?
  • How much of your time do you spend on the things that really matter?

Photos by Virginia Olson © 2012

 

 

 

Everyday Heroes

I went to the beach earlier this week to watch the sunset over Lake Michigan. While I was there I heard a guy who was out in the water start to argue with his girlfriend. As the discussion escalated, he began cursing at her and criticizing her weight – I never heard her say a word from where I was sitting.

It was disturbing and painful to listen to. In fact, I was getting ready to leave when an older man sitting in a lawn chair called out to the young man and told him to watch his mouth.

He then actually got out of his chair and walked partway out into the water toward the younger man. He again asked him to watch his language, or leave, because there were children present. He gestured toward at least a dozen little kids playing on the beach within earshot.

I didn’t hear another word out of the younger guy the entire time I was there.

I think everyone – it was mostly women and children on the beach – breathed a sigh of relief.

And that guy in the lawn chair? He’s an everyday hero.

“Are you sad we missed it?”

I find wisdom and inspiration in unusual places. Take for example the movie Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist. At the end of the movie, after the two teenagers have spent an evening trying to get to a concert by one of their favorite bands, she asks him, “Are you sad we missed it?”

His response: “We didn’t miss it. This is it.”

Sometimes we are all guilty of paying attention to the wrong things. Of making a goal so important that we neglect to see the beauty in, or experience the enjoyment of, the journey.

I wonder how many of us, at the end of our lives, will look back on our achievements or our victories with the most fondness.

When I think back, for example, on graduating from college, it’s not receiving the diploma that I remember so much, it’s the teachers and classes, and the moments of growth and discovery. I suppose the diploma represents that. In other words, it functions as a symbol, but the substance of the experience isn’t contained there.

It’s worth stopping to consider where the real moments of our lives are, so that we don’t miss them. So that we can be present enough to realize that this is it.

From a spiritual perspective each and every moment is it. Each moment is unique and can’t be repeated. In that sense, any moment we spend reliving the past or projecting into the future is a loss of what is, right here, right now.

Don’t miss it.

The Summer Solstice Experience, Part II

I just came back from Summer Solstice. (See part one of this entry.) Many people have asked how my trip was. It’s an experience that’s difficult to put into words. Probably because it’s the type of experience where the benefits are not quantifiable. And even the qualitative ones can be slow to show themselves.

It’s a difficult thing to explain, especially because we are so conditioned in our culture to want to see results now. Did you have fun? What did you do? What did you learn? None of these is easily answered.

One thing I will say is that Summer Solstice has given me a different perspective on my life. It’s taken me out of my old patterns and habits, and disrupted some of my old stories.

It’s helped me to be more mindful of the food I eat, of the thoughts I indulge in, and the company I keep. I would go so far as to say it served as an important reminder to me of my goals and priorities.

In a world where it’s so easy to lose sight of what’s really important, it’s well worth traveling to the ends of the earth for anything that helps us stay connected to the deepest part of ourselves. While those reminders can sometimes be found right where we live, it’s also valuable to get away from time to time.

Because getting away means coming back, and looking at whatever we’ve become used to seeing every day with new eyes, and new appreciation.

Photo by Virginia Olson © 2012

The Pursuit of Happiness

I recently read Jane Gruber’s article “Four Ways Happiness Can Hurt You” in which she discusses the downside of being up. Now, while it’s great to maintain a positive attitude, I think that Gruber makes a valid point when she states that “Happiness is not suited to every situation.” Many of the proponents of positive thinking and affirmations would have us believe that it’s never ok to feel bad: that by doing so we are energetically drawing toward ourselves all that we actually seek to avoid.

Try telling that to someone who has recently experienced a significant loss or major life challenge.

If we define happiness as an emotion that we experience, then it seems unlikely that we’d be able to experience just one end of the emotional spectrum at all times. We might realistically have to concede a little time to unhappiness, too. But the thing about that is, by contrast, the good times will seem that much better.

Perhaps it’s also true that happiness can make us just a little bit too comfortable. If we feel happy, we’re less likely to strive for something more in our lives. A little contentment goes a long way. Too much of it can be a dangerous thing, at least in terms of ambition and personal drive.

Of course, in all of this discussion we are focused on happiness as a feeling that is generated by external circumstances and experiences.

The Buddhists would say that it is a mistake to rely on external circumstances to generate our happiness. That such an attitude will leave us grasping for something we’ll never be able to hold onto or sustain. And this will only serve to make us more unhappy. It will also take away from our experience of the present moment.

There is a joy inherent in being present in each moment as it arises, knowing that nothing lasts; indeed the only constant is change. Each experience is precious for precisely that reason.

One of the greatest gifts of yoga, meditation, and other spiritual practices is that they awaken our ability to Be Here Now. There is beauty in every moment, if we are awake enough to experience it.

The Space Between

One of my first yoga teachers used to say that the space between breaths was the space of possibility. She encouraged us to focus on that space: rather than focusing on inhaling and exhaling, to focus on pausing after exhaling and before inhaling.

While many yogic breathing techniques (pranayama) focus on inhaling, exhaling, or breath suspension following the inhale, far fewer focus on this space between – after the exhale and before the next inhale. When one breath is complete, and the next not yet begun. The space of emptiness.

Being in the gap is challenging. As soon as a space appears in our lives (metaphorical or physical) many of us look to fill it (the sooner the better, and with whatever – or whoever – is handy).

One way to reshape this is to consider that emptiness is a space for possibility. And an empty space is an opportunity. To acknowledge the completion of one phase, and the beginning of a new one.

In order for something new to enter our lives, we must first create a space for it. Then we imagine filling that space with something that feeds us, that fosters growth and upliftment. Through our intention and our attention we shape the various possibilities.

And then, from what manifests, we choose…

The Lone Wolf?

“An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. ‘A fight is going on inside me,’ he said to the boy.

‘It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.’ He continued, ‘The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, ‘Which wolf will win?’

The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’” (Source: http://www.firstpeople.us)

It’s sometimes difficult for people to admit darker tendencies (either to others or to themselves). It’s not often acknowledged that we all have the potential for great kindness or great cruelty. Thus the true measure of a person is not any intrinsic goodness, but how s/he utilizes the power of choice in daily decision making and interactions with other people.

It might seem safer to be the mean wolf. Kindness, benevolence, and generosity might be easily taken advantage of. But anger, superiority, and other displays of power can inspire fear in others, and therefore serve to make us feel less vulnerable. While I don’t deny that suppressing our darker tendencies is less than helpful, at the same time, surely feeding them is equally unwise.

I don’t remember who it was that first told me that there is strength in gentle-ness. Or in essence that true strength involves being gentle, precisely because you have nothing to prove. It’s weakness and vulnerability that seeks to inspire fear in others for a kind of safety motivated by a need for self-preservation. On the other hand, there’s a quiet confidence that goes with being strong and centered and at home in oneself. It’s not showy, but it is enduring and easily recognized.

When it comes to exercising the power of choice and conscious decision making, meditation and other spiritual practices are an important tool in creating a gap between experience and reaction. They allow us to build an awareness and respond to situations in our lives according to our values, rather than reacting out of habit and conditioning.