Categories
Uncategorized

Good things can be easy?… at Whiskey Creek it seems possible

“In real life, good things are allowed to be easy.”

–from today’s Modern Love essay in the NYT, by Coco Mellors.

The statement sounds false. Too simple. Too nicey-nice. But what if it were true?

The past four days at Whiskey Creek on the north side of the Olympic Peninsula, living in a small cabin located right above a rocky beach overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca, makes me think maybe that it could be true. In the media-saturated daily bad-news barrage that usually assaults us, we may neglect to realize that good things exist, and that the tides, waves, and currents which look so scary from shore, are doing nothing but rise and fall and wash along as they should. They pose no threat to us. That seaweed knows exactly what to do: it looks relaxed as its arms lazily stream this way then that… just floating, not flailing, just being not doing anything in particular.

And life moves along as it will. The kelp beds whose arms bob along the water’s surface are doing just fine. The driftwood bobs along fine too, until it bumps into the sand, rolls ashore, and becomes a hiding place for chipmunks and shore birds, sand fleas and other tiny creatures. Or rolls back into the surf with a big wave’s impact.

Nor do the herons suffer from the water’s ever-changing movements. They merely tiptoe their way on top of the kelp, like elegant green-footed ballerinas.

Life doesn’t have to be scary and stressful and alarming all the time.

Listen to the wind, the sky, and the voices of all those creatures who are with us here, day in day out. Hang out with them for a while, even if you have to concentrate to grasp their tunes, above the sirens, leaf-blowers, or TVs of our fellow humans muddling along in misery. They don’t own us.

Just ride the tides for a while. Good things do exist. And they are allowed to be easy.

Thank you Coco Mellors, and Whiskey Creek, for the reminder.

Advertisement
Categories
Uncategorized

Tai chi retreat on beach! bliss from Bandon, Oregon

Dear reader,
No worries today. I’m in a tranquil place, as I just returned from a blissful time on the Oregon coast, at a small Tai chi retreat on the beach at Bandon. (An annual event, if you ever want to join us! organized by local martial arts teachers, from Fusion Kung Fu, Seattle.) It was a pristine setting, and an inspiring and spiritually moving experience. Sensually rich! to smell the sea air, watch the birds (pelicans!), to hear those crashing waves while practicing the graceful spiraling movements of Tai chi–and some Aikido– on cool wet sand: that’s one route to nirvana.

The lesson I brought home: our little frustrations are just that. Little snags in a movement that will not be stopped.

Only we control how we move through space, how we inhabit our bodies.

and, my inner geek cannot help sharing this inadvertently funny message from the Sunset Motel staff:

Categories
Uncategorized

peace

As we wait anxiously for the election results, I send a message of peace and hope. Today was hard.

Work helped.

“Respect” quilt no. 3, available for $500 until the end of today, is coming along nicely, as you’ll see here. The dove in pink is from a group of three, in homage to the Bob Marley song, “Don’t worry about a thing,” and its “three little birds.” It’s one of the many symbols tucked into the quilt; my message of love and admiration to you women out there.

Here’s hoping that all night long, wherever you live, whoever is elected president, you don’t have to worry about a thing. And that things will be better tomorrow.

Categories
Uncategorized

Bob Marley to the rescue, again

The smoky air out here is thick, smelly, and shows no sign of going away. It poses yet another obstacle to our desire for human companionship and makes everybody sad and anxious. We worry now about the fires devastating our neighbors to the south and east, and we all wish mightily for rain.  Not only does the COVID-19 pandemic keep us from each other, we are now obliged to stay in with all the windows shut, lest we make ourselves sick by merely breathing the sooty air.  Sigh.

But we survive nonetheless; my way is to create, always to create. Sewing these bright and colorful Respect Quilts brings loving thoughts to mind and helps keep things in perspective. This will pass. Clear skies will return some day and new growth will recommence in those scorched forests. We just have to abide the present, while waiting for better times to come.

In honor of Bob Marley, whose music does so much to help us get by, each Respect Quilt will feature three squares with little birds on them. As the lyrics to Marley’s song, “Three Little Birds” go:

Rise up this mornin’

Smiled with the risin’ sun

Three little birds

Pitch by my doorstep

Singin’ sweet songs

Of melodies pure and true

Sayin’, (“This is my message to you-ou-ou:”)

Singin’: “Don’t worry ’bout a thing

‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.”

Singin’: “Don’t worry (don’t worry) ’bout a thing

‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right!”

Music heals. Put the music on, and forget your troubles for a while!

Lyrics courtesy of Last.fm Music | Copyright © 2020 CBS Interactive Inc. / All rights reserved.

Image of Bob Marley album cover by Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15336841

Categories
art creativity design nature Zen philosophy

day 53: “Long in dream, a butterfly comes” (thanks to Bada Shanren)

Bada_Shanren_-_Lotus_and_Ducks_-_Google_Art_Project

Since nothing killed my spirit in the news today (or perhaps I’ve just become inured to the awfulness), my mind floated along peacefully during the short, sunny, steep walk and back up to our perch on the mountaintop. I felt like the luckiest person in the world!  My  gaze turned to another favorite book of Asian art, a book dedicated to Bada Shanren, to capture the peaceful thoughtfulness.

Chinese painter Bada Shanren (1626-1705) is the artist; born into the Ming imperial family, he fled and became a Buddhist monk before re-emerging into public life later, after 30 years. During the period when he created Lotus and Ducks, he was already a worldly man in his 70s.

Lotus and Ducks (pictured) is a hanging scroll of ink on paper, ca. 1696. It is absolutely hypnotic once you start gazing at it. “Yes, awfulness exists,” the ducks darkly gaze. But a quiet feeling of Zen awareness is also here for the taking–it flows through the lotus waving gently in the breeze (or is it rippling water?).

The last lines of the inscription capture the feelings perfectly, in their vague and hazy way of conjuring an image of natural beauty and hope amidst the wreckage caused by humans.

“Today we heave a sigh:

Wolves are besting tigers, bear gives birth to fox,

Long in dream, a butterfly comes fluttering along.” *

Lotus and Ducks Hanging scroll

—–

* Bada Shanren, trans. Stephen D. Allee, Lotus and Ducks, ca. 1696, in catalogue of In Pursuit of Heavenly Harmony: Paintings and Calligraphy by Bada Shanren from the Estate of Wang Fangyu and Sum Wai, ed. Joseph Chang and Qianshen Bai, Catalogue by Stephen D. Allee (Washington, DC: Freer Gallery of Art and Weatherhill, Inc., 2003), p. 66.

 

Thanks for giving us this beautiful book when it first came out, Steve! I’m so glad to have the opportunity to read it peacefully and enjoy discovering Bada Shanren in this quiet time (of quarantine).

 

Fyi: yesterday’s face mask production:

Face masks made on May 10 2020

 

Categories
art creativity nature work

day 34, drizzle

Today’s walk brought a sense of peace. Drizzle is the word that came to mind (le crachin nantais, they say in Seattle’s sister city in France), and now that I’ve looked up drizzle in my very fine dictionary, I realize drizzle is the perfect concept for today and my work as face mask maker.

Drizzle: noun & verb [Etymology: Prob. from the Old English drēosan to fall = Old Saxon driusan, Gothic driusan: see DREARY.]

  1. noun. 1. Rain that falls in fine spraylike droplets; an example of this.
  2. A tiny trickle.
  3. verb. 1. verb intrans. Rain or fall in fine spraylike droplets. Usu. impers. in it drizzles; it is drizzling, etc.
  4. verb. trans. Shed in fine drops; sprinkle (a liquid), let fall in a thin trickle.
  5. verb trans. & intrans. Sprinkle or wet (esp. food) with liquid in fine drops or a thin trickle.
  6. verb intrans. Pick the gold thread out of discarded tassels, embroideries, etc. into which it was woven.

How poetic a concept it is, drizzle, that takes us from dreary skies to golden silk, plucked carefully from discarded fabric.

My output of face masks is also a tiny trickle, but I offer it in a spirit of love to humanity, that is to you, my readers and new friends in the neighborhood–not one of whom I’ve yet met (or even seen!) during these odd, old-fashioned transactions via the chair in my front yard.  Please know that your  emails and hand-written notes usher in new trickles of joy leading back to my heart…. and hands.

Au boulot!

 

 

*The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary on Historical Principles, 5th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), vol. 1, pp. 760-761.

 

 

Categories
art children conflict creativity dogs happiness health loss meditation T'ai chi

5 months later.  Sequel to April 13 post, “On health (and pharmaceuticals), calm, and joy’s return (no matter what he says)”

 

 

Reading the post of April 13 now, it is painful to witness how conflicted I was. The blog post speaks of a person who was trying so hard to find happiness. In vain. The grumbling negativity she heard daily only compounded the sadness she felt over her employer, the woebegone infrastructure of the town she called home, and the despair she felt from the constant news of local youth dying violent deaths, week after week. No wonder the daily grind was such a grind.

Five months later, I am surprised, actually, to announce that it’s all gone!  No more sadness over the employer, nor sorrow over the town that was left behind. As for the “daily grind”: what daily grind?!  My partner no longer grumbles angrily or blows off my efforts at cheer: he too feels good! It feels like 1979 again, when we first met and fell in love right in this town. Wow!

The insights screaming from this development are clear: as Alan Jasanoff writes in today’s New York Times Book Review: “Nature does not see the brain as a prime mover … the environment always plays a role.”* Instead of reaching for an anti-depressant, perhaps we should consider what’s wrong outside our heads instead.

My case is striking. Five months after eliminating the medications I was taking, there are no adverse effects. It was sometimes a bumpy ride, but nothing good happens without incurring some pain, does it? You just have to hang in there.  Did I sometimes wonder if I should get back on the anti-depressant? You betcha. But I didn’t.  I stuck with my decision, and guess what? The sadness went away when the environment changed.

Our country is so gorgeous out here!  Check out the pics from last weekend’s trip to Grayland near “the other South Bend” on the Pacific Coast. Who knew that rainbows could arise right out of the surf? Or that water on the sand could make such pretty patterns? Or that driftwood could be infinitely fascinating? (Honey Girl loved it too, though she got a bad case of sandy mouth from biting the waves!)

 

 

I do not regret a thing. Neither changing my name, leaving my career, nor opting for a much smaller house located thousands of miles away. Some friends remain; others will fade from memory. Time will tell. The inner turmoil has calmed.  The practice of T’ai chi and meditation continue to provide strength and solace for life’s ups and downs. Instead of toiling over a job I no longer loved, I feel the warmth of a little flame and a growing sense of contentment. It feels like I’ve discovered what the Buddhists call “right livelihood”: a pastime one can pursue forever, with no regrets.

Remembering Epictetus’s advice in The Art of Living, we must put aside questions of popularity and acclaim, and remember that pursuing one’s own vocations—no matter how quirky or unpopular they may appear—is what makes life worth living.  As he wrote in the chapter “Create Your Own Merit”: “Never depend on the admiration of others. There is no strength in it. Personal merit cannot be derived from an external source. … You have been given your own work to do. Get to it right now, do your best at it, and don’t be concerned with who is watching you.”**

Living here has helped me become stronger and more committed to that stoic philosophy. My new vocations may be unprofitable, they may remain unknown, obscure, and be forgotten to the world. But they fill me with joy, they lighten my step, and they make me happy.  (FYI: The five new kids who’ve joined “Write YOUR Story” are hilarious! We are already having a great time together and the future looks bright.)

What more could one ask of life?

And yet, academe has not entirely let go of me. Not quite. In a couple weeks, I’ll be speaking (via Skype) to a conference of graduate students at Michigan State. I was originally invited as an expert on the French Enlightenment. I expected the organizers to dis-invite me when they learned that I am no longer wedded to that identity: I quit that job in July!  Much to my surprise, one of the organizers has since become a client of Honey Girl Books and Gifts, and both organizers embraced the idea of speaking on a very different issue. Without dissuading people from a life of study, I will aim to share some of the wisdom I’ve gained this year.

My title?  “The Wisdom of the Side Gig: On finding happiness in and out of academe.”

 

 

The Frankenstein Patchwork Pillow no. 2, “Scary Thoughts”:  on sale now for only $25 via HGBG’s Etsy shop until 9/30/18.

*Alan Jasanoff, “Sick in the Head.” Review of Eric R. Kandel, The Disordered Mind: What Unusual Brains Tell Us About Ourselves. In The New York Times Book Review, 9/23/18, p. 21.

**Epictetus, The Art of Living: The Classic Manual on Virtue, Happiness, and Effectiveness, p. 12.

 

Categories
Chinese literature conflict creativity death happiness health T'ai chi Zen philosophy

The incredible lightness of inefficiency!

Happiness of the fish by Chiang Yee

The Happiness of the Fish by Chiang Yee

While emptying an attic closet yesterday—the same one where we found our dead cat Iris back in March—I discovered another box of books on Chinese philosophy, culture, and art that my husband acquired over the years. He has drifted away from the study, but I now find such stuff mesmerizing! It helps explain the pull, influence, and joy I’ve discovered in T’ai chi and good health.

Now that there are only 26 more days until we leave, life seems very peaceful. You may think we are working round the clock to get ready. Wrong! We do whatever we want.

My morning routine is sacred, of course, then I spend a few hours packing, then a few hours sewing, an hour with Honey Girl in our evening walk, a couple hours watching a  favorite series (right now it’s Babylon Berlin, after we watched all of the wonderful How to Get Away with Murder).  Later at night, I enjoy reading the poetry of Yuan Chi, philosophy by Gaston Bachelard and Joseph Campbell, Gish Jen’s Girl at the Baggage Claim, and Subhadramati’s Not About Being Good, among other books. Piles of books line the rooms. That does not bother us a bit. They’re like friends, ready to offer an encouraging thought or insight, as we navigate this time of change.

Late at night, sometimes I just sit in the sunroom with a window ajar, listening to the night and gazing upon the tree-fringed dark sky. Terribly inefficient! Or terribly wise?

Yesterday was June first! So exciting to turn the page on our last month before the move! Yet instead of launching into a frenzy of work or anxiety about moving, I spent hours poring over Chinese Calligraphy by Chiang Yee (1938) and Change by Hellmut Wilhelm (1960). I love how Chinese philosophy makes no sense, at first, until it does…

Try this mental exercise. First consider the concepts of liveliness, constancy and change, in the quotes below (and the gorgeous image above). Then read the description of how energy manifests itself in T’ai chi practice at the bottom. If you are able to resist the urge to do T’ai chi after all that, I’d be surprised!  Is not T’ai chi an incredible gift to humankind?

 On Liveliness

In Chinese calligraphy, says Mr. Chiang, the main principle of composition is in every case a balance and poise similar to that of a figure standing, walking, dancing, or executing some other lively movement. [Lively movement as seen in The Happiness of the Fish, above, Plate XXI of Chinese Calligraphy.]

‘The beauty of Chinese calligraphy is essentially the beauty of plastic movement, not of designed and motionless shape.’

How such ‘lively movement’ is conveyed by a written character, or by a painting or a piece of sculpture or pottery, is a mystery that we cannot analyse—it is an instinctive coordination of the artist’s mental image and the muscular stroke with which he ‘expresses’ or ‘projects’ that image. It is, at any rate, a very personal faculty, achieved by continuous practice and meditation, by a discipline that is spiritual rather than physical.

-“Foreword” by Sir Herbert Read, in Chiang Yee, Chinese Calligraphy, viii.

On Constancy and Change

Change: that is the unchangeable.

The opposite of change is regression, not cessation of movement.  Change, then, is not simply movement as such, for its opposite is also movement. Change is natural movement rather, development that can only reverse itself by going against nature.

To recognize that man moves and acts, that he grows and develops, this is not deep insight, but to know that this movement and development … are governed by the law of change, from which there is no escape, this has fostered in early Chinese philosophy its gratifying integrity and lucidity.

Change is at work in the great as well as in the small … it can be read in cosmic happenings as well as in the hearts of men. The individual who is conscious of responsibility is on a par with the cosmic forces of heaven and earth.

Since every seed attains development in change, it must also be possible to introduce into its flow a seed planted by man. And since knowledge of the laws of change teaches the right way of planting such a seed, a highly effective influence becomes possible. … the closer to the time of planting, the stronger the influence. To recognize the moment of its germination is to become the master of the fate of the seed.

The Creative knows through the easy.

The Receptive can do things through the simple.

The stability of change is the counterpart of the human virtue of reliability. One can grasp it, hold on to it, count upon it.

To become aware of what is constant in the flux of nature and life is the first step in abstract thinking.  … Similarly the conception of constancy in change provides the first guarantee of meaningful action.

-Hellmut Wilhelm, Change, 17-23.

On T’ai chi, our daily way to feel calm in the face of death and change

Internal energy is much more powerful than muscle power. Muscle tension impedes the flow of internal energy. While a certain minimum of tension must be used in movement and in holding up the body, any further tension interferes with the greater power of chi.

When faced with a conflict, you know not to meet it head on. Never interfere with your partner’s momentum (whether physical or emotional); let it flow by you or rechannel it. The world you perceive is a reflection of your inner state.

The T’ai chi student begins to understand the role of cycles in nature. The biological feelings of your connection to the environment become stronger than your feeling of isolation. … By identifying with biological life, you become immortal.  … Death is no longer a threat; its force has been neutralized. As part of life, you will never die—only change.

-Bob Klein, Movements of Magic, 53-56.

Categories
children dogs meditation storms Zen philosophy

day four, what is real?

Hello on day four of the five-day meditation in a mirror challenge,

It is already after noon yet the house is very quiet today, after yesterday’s tornado of family conflict, stress and strife, during the “birthday dinner.”

Today’s setting: the downstairs hall mirror–a full-length mirror ca. 1910–and the downstairs bathroom mirror–another heavy, gilt-framed antique that came with the house. I opened the closet door to allow the full-length mirror to reflect the bathroom mirror, and as I stood there I moved it slightly to see how they reflected each other and the things in between.

We think mirrors are “true” reflections yet look how easily I distorted “reality”: by slightly moving the door and camera’s focus, it is easy to create doubles. The camera shows doubles: doubles of the mirror, of me, of the Picasso print of a girl (Head of a Woman in a Hat, 1962): all those doubles are merely reflections created by the border in the glass of the full-length mirror.

March 11 no 3.jpg

So what is real? right now, cold feet and thirst are real. My ears resound in silent static and my intellect feels wary and weary of things social.

As Alan Watts writes about awareness, “This very simple ‘opening of the eyes’ brings about the most extraordinary transformation of understanding and living, and shows that many of our most baffling problems are pure illusion. […] Because awareness is a view of reality free of ideas and judgments, it is clearly impossible to define and write down what it reveals. […] The truth is revealed by removing things that stand in its light, an art not unlike sculpture, in which the artist creates, not by building, but by hacking away.”  (Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity, 76).

Letting go of a past “Identity” is scary. This applies to adults who must let go of one Identity, of being PARENTS–law-and-order border agents, battling evil to keep their children safe–and undertake a different Identity when those tykes grow up (anywhere from 18 to 35 years later).

From PARENTS, we must accept to exert less power and control over our children. We must let go of our PARENT domination and accept a new role as a kindly, non-invasive partner–merely a fellow human on a chronologically-defined journey we share with those people from birth (theirs) to death (ours, if the chronology works the way we hope it will).

That letting go is scary and hard. Words may help:

if in our anger, we realize

the other person is suffering,

we can free ourselves

from anger

and from suffering,

which also helps free the other.

–Shi Wuling, Path to Peace, Feb. 8

Sometimes abstaining from action and thought, what the Chinese call wu-wei, is the best action.

Especially when we’re all so tired of each other. Maybe we should all just tread lightly and remain silent for a while, like Honey Girl here.

March 11 no 4 Honey girl is tired.jpg