Hopeful Signs
Before you get all weirded out by the little dots on this
leaf, it’s useful to know that they are filled with refreshing lemon scent. All
you need to do is crush the leaves to release it. This plant is in my kitchen
window and its leaves look hopeful to me as temperatures here have been about
-20°C all week.
Something exciting happened yesterday morning. I drove through a rainbow. (Let that sink in for a moment.) It was around 8:30 a.m. and sunlight was refracting on ice crystals in the frigid air creating a sundog in the street where I was driving. Amazing! I drove around the block three times to experience it again and again. It’s like chasing fog though, as soon as you get close to it, it gets fainter. Still, as I got up close, I could actually see the light hitting the ice crystals causing them to sparkle and act as mini prisms. One of the benefits of extreme cold temperatures (in case you couldn’t think of one) and a magical way to start the day! As an added bonus, when I was coming home from my volunteer job today, Hope and I spotted another sundog (in the sky this time). Rainbows are definitely a good sign. What could it mean?
Something exciting happened yesterday morning. I drove through a rainbow. (Let that sink in for a moment.) It was around 8:30 a.m. and sunlight was refracting on ice crystals in the frigid air creating a sundog in the street where I was driving. Amazing! I drove around the block three times to experience it again and again. It’s like chasing fog though, as soon as you get close to it, it gets fainter. Still, as I got up close, I could actually see the light hitting the ice crystals causing them to sparkle and act as mini prisms. One of the benefits of extreme cold temperatures (in case you couldn’t think of one) and a magical way to start the day! As an added bonus, when I was coming home from my volunteer job today, Hope and I spotted another sundog (in the sky this time). Rainbows are definitely a good sign. What could it mean?
All in a Dream
Massey Hall is a magical place. I
saw Neil Young perform last night for an imperative cause. My cheeks were in
high colour and I kept feeling like I was going to cry. Why? Because I love him
and I can’t stand the thought of losing him.
Neil Young is an amazing man. Musician (guitarist, pianist, organist, harp player, etc.), performer, writer, inventor, environmental activist… The list goes on. Genius might be the right word. I adore him. Am I making that clear?
What a night! The audience was energized and receptive. If you have the CD Live at Massey Hall 1971, you might get the idea of what it was like to be there with Neil in 2014. Highlights for me were hearing “On the Way Home” and “Helpless” back-to-back, “Old Man,” “A Man Needs a Maid,” “Ohio,” and “Heart of [freaking] Gold”!!
The evening ended with the perfect encore: “Comes a
Time” (one of the only Neil Young songs that I can play comfortably on the
uke) and “Long May You Run”(I love the little nod to the Beach Boys in
that song: “Caroline, No”). I realize that I’m practically naming the entire
set list. Truly though, I loved it all. What a treat! Whenever I think of
complaining about anything for the next while I’m going to remember that I saw
Neil Young at Massey Hall and know that dreams really do come true. The song
that’s in my mind this morning though is “After the Gold Rush.” Neil revised
the lyrics last night to “Look at Mother Nature on the run / in the 21st century.” With the tar sands issue in Alberta and recent
talk of recruiting astronauts for a mission to Mars, the song seems chillingly premonitory.
Because I didn’t get to sleep until after 2:00 a.m. last night (I was too wired!), I briefly considered driving my daughter to school this morning. Remembering the message last night though, we bundled up and walked instead with the sun in our eyes, crunching ice underfoot, and beautiful music in my mind.
“All in a dream, all in a dream / the loading had begun / They were flying Mother Nature’s silver seed / to a new home in the sun.”
Neil Young is an amazing man. Musician (guitarist, pianist, organist, harp player, etc.), performer, writer, inventor, environmental activist… The list goes on. Genius might be the right word. I adore him. Am I making that clear?
What a night! The audience was energized and receptive. If you have the CD Live at Massey Hall 1971, you might get the idea of what it was like to be there with Neil in 2014. Highlights for me were hearing “On the Way Home” and “Helpless” back-to-back, “Old Man,” “A Man Needs a Maid,” “Ohio,” and “Heart of [freaking] Gold”!!
Because I didn’t get to sleep until after 2:00 a.m. last night (I was too wired!), I briefly considered driving my daughter to school this morning. Remembering the message last night though, we bundled up and walked instead with the sun in our eyes, crunching ice underfoot, and beautiful music in my mind.
“All in a dream, all in a dream / the loading had begun / They were flying Mother Nature’s silver seed / to a new home in the sun.”
Perspective
We’re on a planet floating in space
Having an intense love affair with the sun,
moon, and stars.
How crazy is that?!
Just Go Along With It
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| Photo: Tim Bies |
Flames will destroy everything
at the end of the universe.
It may already be destroyed.
A cold cricket cries in the pile of wet leaves.
He wanders back and forth, unable to get past regret.
Go along with it
Stumble in rain,
Walk on alone.
At the end of the trail is a warm cabin with a single fire.
There you may dry out those lonely years.
~ Blue Cliff Record: Zen Echoes
at the end of the universe.
It may already be destroyed.
A cold cricket cries in the pile of wet leaves.
He wanders back and forth, unable to get past regret.
Go along with it
Stumble in rain,
Walk on alone.
At the end of the trail is a warm cabin with a single fire.
There you may dry out those lonely years.
~ Blue Cliff Record: Zen Echoes
Girls Who Wear Glasses
Is this the autumn of my life? I turned 40 this year so I
suppose it is. (If it’s not autumn, it’s most certainly late summer.) Age has never concerned me much but it did this year.
It’s not the number but everything that goes along with midlife—loss of beauty,
fatigue, things just not being the same physically. I equate it to being in the
middle of a vast sea and discovering to your horror that your beloved vessel is
springing leaks! I wonder, spiritually, why we have to go through this process.
Is it just for kicks? To have a little cosmic laugh?
If we are attached to our bodies (bravo if you are not, you must be a Zen master), as we age, we are going to suffer. I was at the park with my daughter a few weeks ago and one of Hope’s schoolmates joined her on the swing. I introduced myself brightly, “Hi, I’m Hope’s mom.” She pumped her legs awkwardly and said, “I know.” “How do you know,” I asked (we had never met). She replied sweetly, “You have the same hair colour.” I smiled, until she added, “Only Hope’s is more shiny.” Ah yes, it happens to all of us. In case you haven’t caught on, this is why shampoo labels boast about enhancing shine. It’s a lie. Only the young have naturally vibrant hair.
In a way, when someone loves you, it validates your
existence. That person not only hears the music that you are creating, but she/he delights
in it. Is this not the most precious gift? And yes, our bodies will fade and
eventually die, but love will endure. A loved one’s gentle voice, the
light in his/her eyes, and all the kind and loving acts that were ever shared are
timeless. This music, this light and love, ripples out endlessly—greeting us on
the flip side where we merge as one in an exquisite dance of eternal love. ~ A pipe
dream? Perhaps. But I think not.
If we are attached to our bodies (bravo if you are not, you must be a Zen master), as we age, we are going to suffer. I was at the park with my daughter a few weeks ago and one of Hope’s schoolmates joined her on the swing. I introduced myself brightly, “Hi, I’m Hope’s mom.” She pumped her legs awkwardly and said, “I know.” “How do you know,” I asked (we had never met). She replied sweetly, “You have the same hair colour.” I smiled, until she added, “Only Hope’s is more shiny.” Ah yes, it happens to all of us. In case you haven’t caught on, this is why shampoo labels boast about enhancing shine. It’s a lie. Only the young have naturally vibrant hair.
Just yesterday, I was wearing my glasses and someone asked
me, “Do you need to wear your glasses all
the time now?” “Only if I want to see” I joked smugly. I hate wearing glasses.
They are uncomfortable and well you know what they say about girls who wear glasses... If only I could wear my sunglasses everywhere. Like Holly Golightly
from Breakfast at Tiffany’s you would
see me around town, at the grocery store perhaps, looking cool and mysterious. You
wouldn’t be able to see the fine lines around my eyes...
Sigh. It’s a sad, sad and humbling feeling to believe that you don’t matter at all. No one takes the time, it seems, to truly see you. The
real you, I mean. But why are we so hurt by this? Every day, magnificent and majestic
trees are cut down. People trample on delicate wildflowers. Wildlife
and insects are killed without a thought. Why do we expect to be treated any
different by those that are clearly blind to intrinsic beauty?
In a way, when someone loves you, it validates your
existence. That person not only hears the music that you are creating, but she/he delights
in it. Is this not the most precious gift? And yes, our bodies will fade and
eventually die, but love will endure. A loved one’s gentle voice, the
light in his/her eyes, and all the kind and loving acts that were ever shared are
timeless. This music, this light and love, ripples out endlessly—greeting us on
the flip side where we merge as one in an exquisite dance of eternal love. ~ A pipe
dream? Perhaps. But I think not.Living in the Trees
“I want to long for nothing—to be desireless. To just
enjoy the gifts of each day. To feel the love that is already present. The warm
sand beneath my feet, the constant rush of the waves, the 1001 interesting
(amazing!) things I encounter in nature, all are food for my soul. How to make
this my living reality and not just a vacation?” (Costa
Rica, June 27, 2013)
Opening up the window, I hear a few lingering crickets singing in the autumn sunshine. A chipmunk springs like a mini kangaroo through the damp leaves. Birds gorge on intoxicating juniper berries and the tart, red-orange berries of the mountain ash tree. On this day, as so many times before, I’m reflecting on how removed we are from nature and how delicious and healing it would be to live closer to the sea and among the trees.
Years ago, I read a book that I can no longer remember the title of; however, in this unnamed book it mentioned The Moon and Sixpence, which is a novel (written by William Somerset Maugham) loosely based on the life of the French artist Paul Gauguin. I hadn’t thought about Gauguin much since I read The Moon and Sixpence, but I read another book recently called Beachcombing at Miramar that makes a reference to Gauguin’s semi-autobiographical book Noa Noa. Naturally, my interest was piqued and I set out to find a copy of Noa Noa. I admire Gauguin, who in his early 40s abandoned everything to follow his heart. For 63 days he sailed to reach his dream: to paint in Tahiti. After shedding his European ways (his clothing even!) and spending some time in an island hut, Gauguin muses:
Opening up the window, I hear a few lingering crickets singing in the autumn sunshine. A chipmunk springs like a mini kangaroo through the damp leaves. Birds gorge on intoxicating juniper berries and the tart, red-orange berries of the mountain ash tree. On this day, as so many times before, I’m reflecting on how removed we are from nature and how delicious and healing it would be to live closer to the sea and among the trees.
Years ago, I read a book that I can no longer remember the title of; however, in this unnamed book it mentioned The Moon and Sixpence, which is a novel (written by William Somerset Maugham) loosely based on the life of the French artist Paul Gauguin. I hadn’t thought about Gauguin much since I read The Moon and Sixpence, but I read another book recently called Beachcombing at Miramar that makes a reference to Gauguin’s semi-autobiographical book Noa Noa. Naturally, my interest was piqued and I set out to find a copy of Noa Noa. I admire Gauguin, who in his early 40s abandoned everything to follow his heart. For 63 days he sailed to reach his dream: to paint in Tahiti. After shedding his European ways (his clothing even!) and spending some time in an island hut, Gauguin muses:
Silence!
I am learning to know the silence of a Tahitian night. In this silence I hear
nothing except the beating of my heart.
But
the rays of the moon play through the bamboo reeds, standing equidistant from
each other before my hut, and reach even to my bed. And these regular intervals
of light suggest a musical instrument to me—the reed-pipe of the ancients,
which was familiar to the Maori, and is called vivo by them. The moon and the bamboo reeds made it assume an exaggerated
form—an instrument that remained silent throughout the day, but that at night
by grace of the moon calls forth in the memory of the dreamer well-loved
melodies. Under this music I fell asleep.
Between
me and the sky there was nothing except the high frail roof of pandanus leaves,
where the lizards have their nests.
I
am far, far away from the prisons that European houses are.
A
Maori hut does not separate man from life, from space, from the infinite. . . .
In many ways, I can relate to
Gauguin. Viewing houses as prisons sounds dramatic but he’s onto something there. When I stayed in a modern villa in Costa
Rica earlier this year, I was resentful of
the fact that at night I was cut off from the stars and night sounds. Patio lights used for security blocked out the night sky and the
steady hum of air conditioning units prevented me from hearing anything wild.
Well, except for the mysterious tapping on the glass of my bedroom patio door every
night just as I was drifting off to
sleep... (After a few nights of fearfully listening from my bed, I eventually
and bravely switched on a flashlight to reveal a small Halloween crab clicking
its claws on the glass!)
Like Gauguin, our domestication repels me. He found a peaceful simplicity in island living that made him feel creative and vibrantly alive. Something in me struggles to break away from conformity but how one accomplishes this completely, I’m still not certain. In the meantime, I’m exploring exciting and different ways of living. Tree houses have become an infatuation of mine. I don’t know anyone personally that lives in a tree house; although, it’s become trendy to vacation in them. For now, maybe that’s a start.
Like Gauguin, our domestication repels me. He found a peaceful simplicity in island living that made him feel creative and vibrantly alive. Something in me struggles to break away from conformity but how one accomplishes this completely, I’m still not certain. In the meantime, I’m exploring exciting and different ways of living. Tree houses have become an infatuation of mine. I don’t know anyone personally that lives in a tree house; although, it’s become trendy to vacation in them. For now, maybe that’s a start.
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Free Spirit Spheres, Qualicum Beach,
Vancouver Island
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Treebones Resort,
Big Sur, California
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TreeHouse People (Takashi Kobayashi),
Hokkaido, Japan
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"Dream Baby Dream" (Suicide Cover) by Bruce Springsteen
The first time I saw Springsteen in concert I was 22 years
old. It was an intimate solo acoustic concert at Massey Hall (The Ghost of Tom
Joad tour). He was beyond charismatic. He revealed that he enjoys a fine bourbon after performing and at one point, he even told an over-zealous and annoying fan to “Fuck off.” It was very cool.
I was on a euphoric high for days after that concert! Springsteen is a poet and
one of the best entertainers I have ever seen.
This video is an accurate visualization of what it’s like to see Bruce Springsteen live. It’s truly transcendent.
This video is an accurate visualization of what it’s like to see Bruce Springsteen live. It’s truly transcendent.
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