Archives for posts with tag: metaphors

I personally find feeling ‘inspired’ to be a strange state that is neither cause nor effect in any clear and specific way. Sometimes I am inspired by something…which seems an effect, obviously, but I’m not always certain what inspired me. Other times, although I feel inspired I don’t act on it, and it causes nothing, existing merely as a state of being, or sensation. I’m often deeply inspired. I write. I paint. I take photographs. I craft small sculptures. I organize objects in space in a visually pleasing (to me) way. I build and craft things. I am a creative being. I consider myself an artist, and a writer. I write and take pictures pretty nearly every day that I am awake… painting is different. I am often moved to paint, but I only follow through when I have the physical space to work in comfortably, the time to set up and tear down and clean up afterward (having no permanent studio space), and exist in the context of an emotional experience that feels consistent with the inspiration driving my desire to paint; it’s that last one that makes or breaks whether I paint. That last one is as non-negotiable as breathing, and is less a choice of will than a limitation in ability.

Inspiration takes so many forms... flowers...

Inspiration takes so many forms… flowers…

---landscapes...

…landscapes…

...a quality of light...

…a quality of light…

...a metaphor...

…a metaphor…

...an emotion.

…an emotion.

This weekend I am painting. I’m excited about it, and my consciousness is saturated with inspiration – paintings and ideas that have been lurking in the shadows waiting their turn, queue up with exciting new ideas that arose in the hours since it became a certainty that I’d have the time and space to paint in solitude. At least for now, solitude is the only assurance of having that elusive emotional context within which I paint.

I’ve got inspiration…images…canvas…paint…time…space… and no idea of what will have come of it, when I shake off the drop cloths, fold them up, put away the paint and brushes, and acknowledge that the weekend has ended.  I know I am excited, now. I enjoy the feeling of anticipation, and the internal pressure of increasing inspiration, ideas on ideas, and the fun of making quick notes – not wanting to let a moment of further inspiration ‘get away’.

This will be my first serious exploration of mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency in my work as a painter. I don’t know what it means to make that observation, and I don’t know what it will mean for my art. I haven’t done much painting living in this particular location, a mere handful of paintings over almost 3 years, and my last productive opportunity to paint was before I got to where I am, now, as a person. I am approaching the weekend with a beginner’s mind, and wide-eyed wonder. What will come of this? I guess I’ll know on Sunday. 🙂

There's always time for a moment of wonder.

There’s always time for a moment of wonder.

Today is a good day to try something new. Today is a good day to be eager, to be delighted, and to share the moment. Today is a good day for art, a good day for journeys, and a good day to love. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s not a demand, really. “Always do your best” is the fourth of the Four Agreements. I keep coming back to it, however many learned tomes I immerse myself in, however many notes I take, or cross-references I make, however many relevant observations or light bulb moments come to me from hours of study, or therapy. I regularly find myself considering, again, the Four Agreements.  (My traveling partner had recommended The Four Agreements, a few weeks into our association, and before we were lovers. I often think of him with love when I am reading it.)

The basics, and a good starting point.

The basics, and a good starting point.

If I had truly mastered these, would I face so much struggle? Would I have hurt so much for so long? If they were nothing more than saccharine platitudes, would I find renewed relevance so frequently, or so often find myself thinking ‘yes, of course’ in contemplation of a missed opportunity to practice one or more of these simple ideas?

I have suggested, and shared, and gifted this small book so many times… As with anything else, there is a verb involved, and the will, choices, and actions of the individual. I think there is a relevant ‘old saying’… how about ‘you can lead a person to knowledge but you can’t make them think’? Oh that’s not it, is it? It’s ‘lead a horse to water…’, but not so very different, truly. 🙂 We don’t live each others lives, and ideally we don’t make each others choices, or undercut each others opportunities for growth; it’s nice to have help once in a while, but the life we live, the path we walk, the choices we choose belong to us alone. A person can read The Four Agreements as many times as they care to, and never benefit because they chose differently, or did not act on what they read. We have the amazing freedom to choose poorly, any time, to be short-sighted, to hold on to grievances, to struggle, to hold on to resentment; we choose who we are. We create our experience.

A rainy day flower. Beauty needs no excuse.

A rainy day flower. Beauty needs no excuse.

Yesterday, in spite of being ill, was a very pleasant day. It was a pleasant day in spite of one partner having to come home to work because construction noise in the office was so significant it was causing major stress. It was a pleasant day in spite of my traveling partner being very focused on preparing for the next trip away. It was pleasant in spite of the rain, and in spite of the headache. We made good choices, and treated each other well. Sure, I’d like not to be sick, but being sick did nothing to diminish the lovely day, yesterday.

Yesterday, maybe because I am ill, I also had a serious nightmare – terrifying enough to launch me from my bed, all my bed clothes in hand, body pillow clutched to me, cowering in the corner, against the back of the bedroom door when my nearest partner came to check on me, having heard the bang of my frightened self slam into the door, or the wall, whimpering. I don’t recall the dream now, only the sense of tremendous relief when my open eyes began to see, and I was safe in my room, my partner gently soothing my fear with tender touches, and soft words reminding me where I was in the moment, and that all was well.  As fatigued as I felt, it was hours before I could persuade myself to try sleep again, and strangely my bed just didn’t ‘feel right’ after that, until I woke this morning, quite comfortably and on time, a tad amused that I’d forgotten to set my alarm at all, and that it didn’t really matter.

There is a part of me that is curious what the nightmare was about. There is a wiser part of me who understands that doesn’t matter at all, and the kinder choice for my experience is to let it go.

What is 'enough'?

What is ‘enough’?

Today is a good day to listen well, really listen, without waiting to speak. Today is a good day to do my best, and understand with compassion that most people generally are doing their best, as well. Today is a good day to avoid making assumptions; assumptions are only stories we tell ourselves, and they have a lot of power to cause needless suffering. Today is a good day to ‘be impeccable’ with my words, using them well and with kindness, and understanding that clarity does not require callousness, or cruelty.

It is some moments after a pastel frosty dawn. The sky is still pink with it, lightening to a chilly gray-blue. Winter. A new year unfolding, each new day its own, and I have not spent much of it writing.  That is not a complaint; my time has been well spent.

My coffee this morning is smooth and sweet on my tongue. The house is quiet. I feel content.

I celebrated the New Year with an interestingly 3-dimensional, very hands-on, sort of meditation; craft work, building, as a physical metaphor for investing in myself, of being the change, of building a future aligned to my values, that supports my needs over time. I assembled a desk, re-arranged my space, and ‘moved in again’. I did each activity as mindfully as I was able, which was ‘mostly’, investing care, commitment, and love in assembling the desk, the chair, moving a bookcase, arranging ‘things’, eliminating clutter…  I can’t own the idea, it developed during a conversation with my partners about my challenges making my time really count for me.  I have not found it easy.  We discussed the nature of the challenges, and one partner suggested – and had before – a more dedicated writing space (I generally cozy up on the sectional, and perch my laptop in my lap). There was real wisdom in many of the observations and suggestions, and the outcome was a shopping trip out to Ikea, and a New Year’s Day project.  It was a powerful experience to build a solution in full awareness, mindfully, and with great care – as a treat for me.  It brought me face to face with the reality that I rarely treat myself with the same quality of good treatment that I am inclined to deliver to my loved ones. In the abstract, I had thought I was past that. lol.

The changes result in some small amount of upheaval, of course. These days I have some understanding why that is, and it didn’t linger longer than needed to get my attention to the matter, and I take time to be in the changed space frequently to chill and be, allowing it to return to a level of familiarity that feels comfortable. I have been sleeping very well since I moved the bookcase, and put the desk in my room. The room seems much quieter.

It is always interesting to rethink a space, and configure or use it differently. Having made these changes, like elaborate dominoes others now seem necessary, and the tight efficient arrangement of objects in a small space will require a high level of attention of detail and tidiness to stay beautiful and cozy, but last night when I stepped into my room at the end of the evening, it felt rather like a homecoming in a very visceral and supportive way.

The new year is off to a good start, for me.

Another lovely metaphor, eggs on a leaf in my aquarium. Happy New Year.

Another lovely metaphor, eggs on a leaf in my aquarium. Happy New Year.

It’s still dark outside, the day has barely begun.  It will unfold soon enough, in pink and lavender, and a hint of orange along the horizon. What sort of day will it be? Mostly, it will be the sort of day I choose, the sort of day I make it become through my actions, my circumstances, my decision-making – and my perspective.

Dawn, effort, and progress;  my morning skyline as a metaphor.

Dawn, effort, and progress; my morning skyline as a metaphor.

When I take a mindful and observing approach, so many details are revealed that the landscape of my day, and my experience are altered (usually for the better).

There is more to see than what is obvious.

There is more to see than what is obvious.

Today is a good day to choose well, to make choices that are compassionate, choices that are kind, and choices that recognize that we are each more similar than different – and that both our differences and our similarities are worthy of acknowledgement, respect, and kind humor. “Good-natured” is a characteristic I would like to associate with myself.  Today is a good day to cultivate that quality.

Choose a path.

Choose a path.

Choices upon choices – it is no wonder so many opportunities arise when the easier course of action seems to be inaction, or that the easier choice is to refrain from choosing and allow events to unfold ‘as they will’.  I consider for a moment that events unfolding ‘as they will’ – how clearly that spells out that the will of others is involved, and that a lack of will on my part doesn’t really get me off the hook on the matter of choice – or will; someone has chosen something at some point that becomes an element of my own experience.  Being involved in my own experiences seems a wise choice.

Today is a good day to be kind.  It is a good day to show compassion for myself, and for others. It is a good day to coach with praise more often than with criticism, and to offer encouragement over frustration. Today is a good day for hugs, and a good day for smiles.  Today is a good day to let go of fearful assumptions, and reading sub text into the words of others.  Today is a good day to be open to the possibilities – known and unknown. Today is a good day to be who I am, wrapped in this fragile vessel that is my body, on this roller coaster ride that is my experience.  Today is a good day to accept struggle, and acknowledge challenges, without being cowed by them. Today is a good day to remember that feelings like despair, futility, apathy, and frustration are parts of my experience now and then – along with joy, delight, hope, excitement, enthusiasm, contentment, confidence, and love.  Today is a good day to remember that everyone’s pain hurts – and nearly always hurts them more than any other pain they might be aware exists, because it is their own.  Today we are each having our own experience.

Today I am kind, I am content, and I am compassionate.  Today I am hopeful and enthusiastic about life. Today I love, and I am worthy of love in return. Today there is more about me that is whole than is broken. Today I choose, and in my choices hope to thrive and treat myself and others well.

Today I will change the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sitting here with a nasty headache (not unusual) and a feeling of anxiety that just isn’t entirely going away, but also isn’t attached to anything specific in my right-now experience.  I pause now and again, practice mindfulness, meditate for a few minutes, do some yoga. I ‘feel okay’ in the sense that life isn’t bad, even my mood is mostly quite nice, but I have a clear sense that there is commitment to practice and effort involved.  I’m not troubled by that, today, it seems rather obvious that a desired change would take actual effort; a verb.

Here are two photos taken within a few seconds of each other. Take a moment to consider this:

What we see often depends a great deal on...

What we see often depends a great deal on…

...what we are looking at and what we want to see.

…what we are looking at (and what we want to see).

So, there’s that.  So much is really a matter of (wait for it…) perspective. (Why does that delight me so? Why does it seem to offer so much hope?)  Yeah, I’m still meditating on perspective. It remains a worthy concept for contemplation, always fresh, always adding some twist on something, and not once have I had an experience where having more perspective was a disadvantage. Not even once.

Somehow, my musings on perspective brought me around to considering that archetypal question of childhood – “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  (How many times is any one of us asked that question? Who ever has an answer at that age? Hell, I’m still fucking working on that one!)  I found myself imagining that I had taken on first one career/calling, then another… and when I got to ‘lion tamer’ my creative thinking brain threw ‘tension tamer’ into the conversation! Suddenly, I was imagining making taming my stress some kind of vocation, a calling, a role – dressed for the circus big top, with a whip or a riding crop, making my anxiety do my bidding.  LOL! I delight myself with the image and imagine further a whole circus or carnival cast – with my anxiety somehow ‘The Main Attraction”.  Metaphors dancing with allegories in my busy imagination playground.  My in-the-moment stress and anxiety faded away, for the moment.  (Nice one, Brain, that was fun.) 😀

(I wonder if I can call upon my Tension Tamer any time I want to? Is this a new tool, or was it an experience?)

Mindfulness is making so much difference for me. Being a student of life and love is providing me with an education of such immense value that it could never be measured in grades, or student loan debt.  More questions than answers seems to be a way of approaching my experience that pays off in a lot more good days than bad, fewer sleepless nights, and less bitter rumination and emotional pain.  Finding security and contentment in ambiguity and uncertainty is an unexpected outcome, but here I am. More content. Healing. Finding more peace in my heart and more comfort with my experience. This is a good place to be, and in spite of the headache, and the arthritis pain, this is a good day [for me].

There’s this one thing that bums me out though… I can only share words about this experience.  I don’t know how to convey how utterly necessary it seems now, how helpful, how lovely.  Well, at least I do have words, and I can share those.  (I’ll count on you to read them, and take from them what is meaningful for you.)   🙂

Mindfulness sees the unexpected heron in a field along a busy road.

Mindfulness sees the unexpected heron in a field along a busy road.

There is still so much to learn.