Tag Archives: Mindful Practice

Neighbours

Here is a wonderful quote from Abraham Joshua Heschel on how we should live life and, I think, view our neighbours in all their forms:

“Our goal should be to live life in radical amazemement [to] get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”

I dip into my photographic archives and poems I wrote around them. Again, this is a trip to Waterton Lakes National Park. It is closed right now. It is interesting to revisit the images and remembrances they stir. It is a reminder of living life in radical amazement, taking nothing for granted.

During the trip, we hiked in an area where there were signs about the possible presence of grizzly bear. Its Latin name is Ursus arctos horribilis. The horrible is an apt description if you end up on the wrong side of one.

When I hike, I wonder what hides from my sight and is quiet as I pass. The dense underbrush path hides things from me, giving them a sense of security. The signs reminded me I am not alone, and our neighbours are not always human.

As luck had it, we saw bear that day. At first glance, this one had the right colouring for grizzly. A closer examination indicated it was missing the tell-tale hump on its back and the wider forehead of a grizzly and was a brown coloured black bear. Behaviour wise it was too close to humans, as it was right next to the road and a hotel. Grizzly are pretty reclusive neighbours.

This one was a black bear for sure. Its colour did not make identifying it a problem. As well, it was smaller. That suggests it was younger, probably born a year before we were there.

Even black bear are dangerous. I tell hockey players I coach about the bear rule to decide on what is appropriate language. I tell them, even with our friends, we don’t know what might trigger a negative (horrible) response. Bear attack about 1 out of 10 times they make contact with humans. We just don’t know which of the 10 times.

Hiking someone’s home

Treading warily, softly

Horribilis‘ habitat.

Not all our neighbours are fearsome. This mountain sheep posed for his picture.

I leave you with this poem about neighbours of various forms.

Neighbours near,

Some visible;

Ducks laugh and swim

Distract us, grouse–

Protect family and spouse

Woodpecker’s hunting lunch–

Delectable larvae, I’m sure.

Others less in evidence;

A fish plays–

Loon here and gone

Games of hide and seek.

A moose–

Signs they have been,

Tracks and droppings.

Insects whirring in the stillness’

Butterflies flitting and feeding

Moving seeds from place to place.

Phantom breeze brushing the floor,

Up high, solitary leaf responding

Waving

Trees sighing.

What watches me?

Neighbours present,

Unseen community–

Nature piecing its puzzles,

Seamless, yet not form fitting.

International Peace Park

I love to go to Waterton National Park and, by extension, to Glacier National Park. They border each other on the Alberta-Montana border and form what is known as an International Peace Park.

When I go to Spokane, I drive past the turnoff to Waterton and it brings back by fond memories each time. Kathy and I spent part of our honeymoon, roughing it in a tent, in Waterton. The scenery is beyond spectacular and, when we are in settings like this, the poet in is spoken to.

The first day we were there in 2012 this deer was in the townsite unconcerned about human presence.

We traveled down the big lake and crossed the Canada-US border. This was the boat we took. Despite appearances, the boat is over 90 years old and was refurbished.

Joining us together

Offering a hopeful message

Carrying peace each day.

Once we got to the American side of the border, we stayed and hiked into Kootenai Lake. We had our passports, cleared customs, and were able to take a later boat. Along the way, I saw some great sights. Having said this, the brush along the trail was so heavy we could not get off of it and I wondered what we missed.

Nature’s cathedral

Dancing lights mingle with shadows

Peace’s benediction.

Happy Haiku

As part of my PhD, the university required I take two ethics courses. In 2012, I took an ethics class. A central theme in the course was the role eudaimonia plays in one’s life. We often translate eudaimonia as being happiness. It is more than being happy in the moment, as that is fleeting. Instead, Aristotle expanded on it to mean human flourishing and even blessedness, which occurs even in moments of distress.

When we think of eudaimonia in that way, it opens up opportunites to reflect on how we experience flourishing. In my case, it is the human relationships, a love of sports, hockey specifically, and writing, particularly poetry. I began to write poetry again, not because I felt at ease with the world, rather because I was unhappy at the time. It was opening up my heart in ways to allow this unhappiness to be dealt with one in ways to help me flourish.

Writing haiku is one poetic form I enjoy. Part of writing them is fun I had teaching how to write them. Students challenged me to write a haiku on the spot. I always began with an idea usually, but not allows, about nature. I got three lines down and then went back to select better words and focus on the syllables.

Students seemed to engage differently as they saw me enjoying writing haiku. Adults sometimes complained. For example parents and administrators questioned teaching poetry. I responded with it is good to write poetry as we learn how to select and use language in precise ways, plus it is fun. They did not always get it. Students did.

Here are a couple of examples that come to mind. It is not that we write as much as it is a process of writing and being written.

coursing cool current

tearing over life’s rocks

crossing to healing

Language and words bridge one’s private struggles and and make it visible and public. I strugled with these haiku. I think I need more practice. I hope they make sense.

Wearing down rough edges

Bridging life’s busyness

Pausing to flourish.

.

Butterfly

Several years ago, a student took these pictures. It is a beautiful example of how we are part of Nature and have to learn our role within as we unify with it. In becoming one with Nature, we experience Nature as a vital piece belonging to a larger fabric of community. We move into a role of stewards, rather than a user and discarder.

In these unifying moments, we experience Nature’s richness and transform. With increasing awarenss and mindfulness, we can experience belonging to, in, and with Nature, rather than outsiders who exploit, use, and discard. The butterfly and each of us become intimate partners in Nature’s dance.

A result of these pictures is the accompanying haiku.

Resting on journeys

Alighting in this moment

Sharing time and space as one.

The student took a second picture from a different angle and in black and white. This led me to a second haiku.

kissing tenderly

stopping to rest on your way

A sensuous miracle.

Have a wonderful Earth Day 2020.

Nature’s Palette

Regardless of where we travel, we are always in a different ecology. In the mountains, I see how they reach into the sky and how they impact the sky my view. Quite often, I see this change as it is different than what I see at home. Change happens regardless and, when I am out of what I understand as “normal,” change appears different. For me, this is noticeable as the sun sets

Fingers reach the sky

Colours mingle with others

Day merges into night.

I took this picture several years ago on our way to Spokane. As we walked by the river, the sun set. It was a bit overcast and gray, so the colours blended together more than I am used to.

We walked and came around a back street getting another view of the mountains.

last colours dancing

this day slipping away

dark curtain sliding in place.

Rich palette in hand

Desert sky as a canvas

Nature painting masterpieces.

In early March, Kathy and I were in Phoenix. I walk every day and this was my last walk of the day. As I walked, I walked into the sunset and the sky lit up with vivid colours. I suspect being in a desert setting had something to do with it. It is hard to believe we were in a large urban setting.

I always try to remember Nature is all around me. Take care and stay well.

Companion

Etymologically, companion is breaking and sharing bread (panis, pa, and pain) with one another as we come together (com). It is associated with being on a journey, meeting others on the path, and stopping to eat with one another.

Companion lends itself towards metaphor, taking us beyond the literal. Faith and cultural traditions have stories related to helping one another, showing compassion and companionship to others. The word compassion means to share the joys and sorrows fo one’s life with others. When we do this, we do so because we can relate to what someone else is experiencing e.g. the loss of loved one.

On this quest we call life, we can questioning what it means to live this life. How do I share it? I am reading Parker Palmer‘s On the Brink of Everything. Parker repeats this need to understand and share in, sometimes, unexpected ways. It is not a calculated process, which humans often can fall into. After all, to be human is to fall short. It is to do the proper thing and bring out the better angels in ourselves and others.

I tend to think a lot, but this is a time where I am thinking even more. What forms of leadership do we want moving forward? How do we bring some harmony to a world often divided? How do we engage in meaningful dialogue to listen with open hearts to others who have much different experiences?

Arise,

This morning.

Tentatively step into the unknowable,

Discerning one’s voice afresh,

Discovering one’s purpose anew.

Asking,

What nourishes, waters, and heals one’s soul?

Who walks with us?

Who joins us?

Who shares the journey?

Who breaks bread with us?

How do we find refuge in one another?

As we pause and share the path,

Never quite able to step into the other’s steps.

Take care,

In one’s questing,

Speak mindfully, heartfully, graciously

Hear mindfully, heartfully, graciously

Your self and others encountered.

I took this picture in Waterton Lakes National Park. When I hike, nature reminds me to sense how much is closer at hand than I realize. What don’t I see? What don’t I hear? The coronovirus gives me time to reflect and question my priorities. What do I value? Am I true to my values? There are things and people who remain invisible and unheard, yet may be closer at hand than I realize. How do I become a companion and share in their journey without imposing?

Set the Backpack Down

Several years ago, I was in the midst of professional struggles and wrote this poem while attending a retreat based on Parker Palmer‘s work. At the time, I was reading his book, The Heart of Democracy. In the book, I came across the following quote:

“Suffering breaks our hearts, but the heart [that is] supple … breaks open, not apart, [and] can grow into greater capacity for the many forms of love. Only the supple heart can hold suffering in a way that opens to new life.”

Joanna Macy has a similar quote: “The heart that breaks open can contain the whole universe.” If my memory is accurate it is this quote that informed Parker’s writing at the time. It is about hopefulness. Hopefulness is not going it alone. It is walking up the mountain together, with those who we can share the burdens of our mutual journey together. Companionship is about sharing bread along the journey, not hoarding it. This is an apt metaphor. What does bread mean in our daily lives?

Parker reminded me passion is not just about love that comes easily. Passion is love has moments of suffering, sometimes long moments. We can each grow through these moments or wallow in self-pity. The other part of suffering is I was not in it alone. Whether it was a colleague who listened, parents who came to check in with me every few days, or Kathy giving me space to make career decisions, I was not in these moments alone.

At the time, I was writing poetry for the first time in years and it was a healing space; a space where I tried to become whole. An essential part of becoming whole is speaking from the heart, which may not mean speaking out loud. In speaking to one another this way, I must listen more closely.

Weighing us down;

We set backpacks down,

Without companions,

The path terrifying,

The mountain is high,

Its peak obscured.

Sharing one’s load;

Trusting,

Settng one’s course right,

Being true to one’s heart,

Only other hearts hear,

Will others hear?

Speaking one’s truth;

Inviting,

Sharing

Lightening loads;

Strengthening our resolve,

Straighening backs,

Squaring shoulders,

Holding heads high.

Will we walk together?

Will we share our loads?

Will we lighten the journey?

I leave you with a wonderful short video from a Canadian performer, David Francey called Morning Train.

 

The Simple Life

I began looking through some poetry I have written over the years and the first one I came across was this one called The Simple Life. I am going through the poetry, as I think with the time provided, I might look to put them into a coherent form and publish a book of poetry. I promised myself I would do this and have been given the time to work on project.

I enjoy solitude. For me, it is time to recharge batteries. Even on holidays, I spend time with Kathy and not many others. We visit family and friends, and hike. On the trail, we meet people to see plants and animals of the area.

It is good to be alone at times,

Sheltered by comforting trees,

The wind singing its song,

Here, I experience freedom and peace,

For the moment, worries set aside.

Minnows dart at the water’s edge,

Dancing between light and shadows,

Seemingly, without a care,

There, they experience home’s safety;

Its primal call.

Here, this is me,

I exist within a simple space;

An unseen hand beckons me,

I wave to this life,

Enjoying it each time I return;

Nature’s beauty gradually revealed.

I wrote the poem after spending the day hiking in Waterton Lake National. The one reference is to standing by the lake and watching minnows dart in and out of the sun and shadows. In Arizona, we hiked in an area of Buckeye called Skyline Regional Park.

I took the pictures below over five or six days as the cactus blossomed. As a result, we walked the same path with some variations over that time. We got to see nature’s beauty gradually being revealed.

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss

Regardless of where I am, I am in relationship with other humans and the world we share. It is easy to take these relationships for granted. Over the years, I discovered, children and youth embrace differences more readily than adults.

Through the use of satire, made up words, and unusual characters, Theodor Geisel, better known to us as Dr. Seuss, took a stand against bullies, hypocrites, and demagogues. In this way, I think his characters depict pluralism we live in. Yes, there is no Lorax, Yertle the Turtle, or Cat in the Hat, but we can learn to appreciate and defer to their beautiful differences. Even within  differences, I find more similarities and common ground with others, a sense of community of humans.

We need this in the world we co-inhabit with other sentient and non-sentient beings. Too often, people who masquerade as leaders tell us to see difference as a problem, to exploit Nature, and to separate ourselves from our better angels. Perhaps our better angels are Thing 1 and Thing 2.

298x322 Unique Dr Seuss Images Ideas Dr Seuss Art, Dr

I retrieved the Thing 1 and Thing 2 image from Clip Art Mag.

I took this picture Sunday at the Japanese Friendship Garden. Even in the midst of an urban setting, like Phoenix, we discover spots where nature and humans co-exist in almost perfect harmony. In truth, we are never separate from nature and humans. It is only in our thoughts we are separate, somehow superior. When we are present and mindful, we recognize there are no boundaries.

Here are four of my favourite Dr. Seuss quotes:

Today you are You, that is truer than true.
There is no one alive who is Youer than You.

Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.
Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.

So be sure when you step, step with care and great tact.
And remember that life’s A Great Balancing Act.

What Do You Plan to Do with Your One Wild Life?

Mary Oliver wrote the beautiful poem The Summer Day. She ended the poem with a question: “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Actually, she included several questions, which are not answerable in any certain way. Life is unpredictable, but what we want to do with it echoes Hans-Georg Gadamer who wrote “desire beyond wanting.” To me, this suggests we each aspire, perhaps can aspire, to something beyond simply knowing and planning. There is more to life than we can plan and predict, yet we can hope.

I think, as important, the question is about vocation and what calls us forward and animates each of our spirits. Thomas Merton and Parker Palmer write about how vocation and voice relate to one another and are how we express who we are in life. Merton goes so far as to say some of us are perhaps destined to search without discovering what calls us.

I wonder, “have we lost this sense of spiritual purpose in the early part of the 21st Century?” We look out there, read the newspapers, follow 24/7 news, etc. and feel deep despair and hopelessness, perhaps even disinterest to follow what beckons. I don’t say this lightly. Two incidents led me to wonder about this. First, at a recent community engagement conference, I was struck by how much despair filled the room. Second, in a private conversation with a parent, they commented how a child was struggling with what exists beyond our individual life. The child is experiencing a sense of despair over this. In part, this is exacerbated because the parents are atheists and feel unable to give guidance in a spiritual way. Finding our voice and who we are is more than an instrumental process of work. It goes beyond to the spiritual essence of who each are and how that brings meaning to our lives and the world.

In the latter setting, I emphasized the idea that we conflate religion and spirituality. One can be deeply spiritual and non-religious and non-theist. One can be religious and theist without being spiritual. The essence of spirituality is to find what calls to me and respond with the qualities of life I want to find in the world. I don’t think those in short supply, but, if we listen to the media, we come away with a different view. At the heart of this, might be the great existential questions poets, like Mary Oliver, ask us.

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

I include a lovely reading by Mary Oliver of this poem.