Birds of a feather…

Earlier this week I was in the kitchen when I heard a flock of birds making loud screeching noises outside the window. When I looked out into the back yard, I saw a hawk on the ground. When I looked closer, it appeared the bird was sitting on something.

That something turned out to be a full size bluejay.

After a few seconds the hawk abandoned the frightened bluejay, and flew to a nearby tree. The apparently unharmed bird flew away, but his posse was not happy. At least a dozen other bluejays continued to surround the hawk, screeching their disapproval and virtually swarming around him.

They finally drove him out of the tree, and as I watched him flying away into the distance, I saw that one or two were still in hot pursuit.

I had no idea that bluejays would defend their own against a predator. It was a surprising and inspiring example of strength in numbers.

I think sometimes it’s easy to get caught in the illusion of powerlessness. In that respect, I think we can take a lesson from the bluejays. Individually we may be small, easy prey. But united as a group, with others who are like-minded, we are mighty.

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.

Living with Uncertainty

There are very few certainties in life. When I was a kid, my dad was fond of saying, “Nothing is certain but death and taxes.” I always thought this was incredibly funny at the time. Now, I realize he was right. (Though some people manage to avoid both for quite some time.)

Uncertainty, ambiguity, and change are a big part of life experience. And yet, many of us spend a great deal of time acting as if that is not the case. Working very hard to create a sense of permanence and security which is elusive, illusory, and transitory.

The most that we can really hope to do is to create the illusion of certainty, a false sense of permanence.

Creating the illusion of permanence is like building castles in the sand. It definitely will take up a lot of time and energy. And you might build something very impressive. But ultimately if you get too attached to everything staying like it is, you will be very disappointed.

One major symptom of this type of activity is fear. Lots and lots of fear. I’ve watched people I know create virtual fortresses in their lives, trying to protect themselves from change. What really happens is that their lives get smaller, and smaller, as they try to control each and every aspect.

I’ve seen myself do this too. I think the prescription for this is the realization that the true sense of safety resides inside of us, rather than outside of us, in our external circumstances.

Understanding that concept intellectually is one thing. But living that truth is a lifelong practice.

Photo by Virginia Olson © 2012

Existence

“Once you are clean and clear, you can feel tremendous love falling on you from all dimensions.” – Osho

I recently moved; tonight, as I was shuffling the cards for a reading with my Osho Zen Tarot, one fell out. The description read, “’Home’ is not a physical place in the outside world, but an inner quality of relaxation and acceptance…Now is the time to look at whether you are allowing yourself to receive the extraordinary gift of feeling at home wherever you are.”

I know why I go back to the cards again and again: for important reminders. Of course I know, intellectually, that I can be at home anywhere. I don’t own much, and I move often. But each time includes a period of adjustment. A period where I get caught up in the physical: “Can I feel at home in this new place?”

I forget…That home is a place inside. That I can be at home with myself, and within myself. And that if I cultivate that feeling, of being at home in myself, I can never really be lost in the world.

It is such a gift to live in the truth of that realization.

On Letting Go

In the Bhagavad Gita, it says that we are entitled to our work but not the fruits of our labors. This means that it’s unwise to be attached to outcomes or results. Sometimes we fail, despite our best efforts. In other words, if we take an action with a specific outcome in mind, and then that outcome does not occur, we may feel that we have failed, and then attach to the failure all of the emotional baggage that culturally goes with it. As an alternative, the Gita teaches non-attachment.

In our culture, we’re not encouraged to let go. We’re encouraged to strive. To master our circumstances. To never give up. Now, I’m not advocating giving up, but there is a difference between giving up and letting go. Letting go is a surrender, not a defeat. Letting go is a mindset that says, “I’ve done all that I can do, and I feel good about my role.” It’s not outcome-oriented.

Attachment to achievement is one of the factors that leads to burn-out so often in the service-oriented professions. I think of the teachers and counselors and other people I know in the helping professions, and I see many of them who care so much that they are drained by the lack of results. It can be hard to remember that everyone has free will. And that, even given opportunities to change, some people have not aligned themselves or harnessed the necessary elements to create that change.

There’s nothing wrong with desiring certain outcomes in life, or working toward goals. But if we become so invested in the achievement of a particular goal or attached to a certain outcome that we make the process and the experience (the journey) less important, that’s when we create additional suffering for ourselves (and often others, as well).

Recommended Reading: The Little Book of Letting Go, by Hugh Prather

Photo by Virginia Olson © 2012

Desire: Riding the Horse

The energy of desire is incredibly powerful. When we desire something (or someone, for that matter) in our lives, it can consume us. I’ve heard desire described as a horse, in the sense that it’s a very powerful tool if utilized correctly (like most things). In dealing with our desire, it’s wise to be riding the horse. If the horse runs wild, stampeding, that can be extremely dangerous and destructive. If we’re riding the horse, we acknowledge its power, interact with it, and direct it.

The Buddhists would say that desire is insatiable. As soon as we satisfy one want, we manufacture another. This leads us down a path of self-indulgence and selfishness and, ultimately, does little or nothing to alleviate unhappiness. Rather, it seems to breed more unhappiness.

At the other extreme is denial or suppression of desire. This is also a less than helpful approach. Suppressed desires tend to reveal themselves in inappropriate and unhealthy ways.

All this is to say that dealing with desire effectively is a matter of striking a delicate balance.

One of my favorite Vedanta teachers, Swami Bodhananda, distinguishes between binding and non-binding desires. For example, those items at the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy would be non-binding desires. Food, clothing, shelter, and safety (meeting basic needs) fall into the category of non-binding desires. Binding desires may be along the lines of, say, a desire for caviar twice a week, or 3,000 square feet of living space. Distinguishing between needs and wants in our culture can be difficult, especially since a virtually continuous barrage of advertising strives to create new needs on an ongoing basis.

Because of the almost endless onslaught of media, it’s worthwhile to pay attention to where your information is coming from, and to limit that flow of information when possible. In other words, to balance input with processing and take time to reflect on your true priorities as part of living a life that more fully reflects your values.