GODSPELL

Ocean, Cliffside, Santa Barbara

 My friends' home in Santa Barbara, California is a wonderful calming place.  I am here alone, which is also strangely calming since I know all is well at home where my husband is.  All is well too with my scattered grandchildren.  Nothing changes life more than a period of calmness, does it?  I hope you are finding some today.  

Yesterday I hiked to a seal rookery, something I had never heard of.  Well as you can guess, or already knew, it's where a bunch of seals have hung out for centuries, this one here in Carpenteria at the bottom of a cliff--giving birth, feeding and lazing in the sun.  Maybe you live by the sea or on top of a mountain or with a back yard you have carefully designed with patio, hammock, chairs in the sun or shade and a gurgling fountain.  I don't.  My home is in the woods and right now while I'm gone there is yellow pollen everywhere.  My husband can't open the windows during this warm Carolina spring or the indoors will be as covered as out.  We leave footprints in the pollen even inside our house.  It's not a blessing.

Being here is different. 

Remember that super hit of the 70's, "Day by Day" from Godspell?   It reached #13 on the pop charts.  That song is what I've been thinking about out here in California.

Day by day,

Day by day,

Oh dear Lord, three things I pray.

To see Thee more clearly,

Love Thee more dearly, 

Follow Thee more nearly,

Day by day.  

If you are the age to have gone to an original performance in the 70's, as I am, you remember that at intermission the audience was welcomed on-stage to share bread and wine with the performers.  The musical ends with a reprise of "Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord." 

I wish there would be a revival of this musical.  It's more joyous than what we usually think of with Lent.  Or even Palm Sunday with its foreshadowing.  But it fits Easter.  In a place between the Santa Ynez Mountains and the Pacific Ocean, it does seem easier to see Thee more clearly.  Can you imagine living in Washington DC right now?  Even North Carolina can be hard.  But here in sunny California with lemon trees in every yard, seal sanctuaries and paper straws to lessen pollution from plastics, calm seems easier to achieve.  

Of course I am on vacation. Teachers and nurses and firefighters are bound to be stressed, I hope not beyond coping.  But I hope they too see Thee more clearly, day by day.  I am very grateful to my friends for this opportunity.  AMEN

OH HAPPY DAY!

The shadows out my window fill the woods with only patches of light.  It's a bright day, almost no clouds, yet the shade is deep, the leaves a darker green than ever yet this year.  Far off but still visible a gravel drive, a neighbor's pond and gazebo, fancier than the tall weeds and foxtail that grow in sunlit patches of mine.  Just beneath my windows ferns and mosses spread on the damp side of the house.  Our land rolls to the creek, a ravine of old leaves wedged between roots and rocks, rerouting the water with each hard rain.  

One larger patch of sunlight catches my eye.  Shade grass squeezes between the granite, quartz and sandstone, trunks pushed to left and right leaning on eachother where their tops collide.  Fungi nestle in the composting leaves, some a surprise with their thumb-sized red hats. Always I am happy to spot them.   

Always I wanted to live like this in a house in a woods, in a woods behind a meadow; a meadow with cedar trees three stories high and deer beneath the branches spreading low to the ground making a dome fragrant and fresh.  Then along the wood's edge loblolly pines shedding onto their golden carpet.  Cedar leaves small and itchy, loblolly needles soft and long.  Pinecones spread wide. Hawks and ravens and turkey vultures in the meadow and under the dogwood squirrels and chipmunks sharing bounty with the birds. Wild spiny mahonia, barberry, holly and nandina, all with berries blue or red. Lenten roses reseeded across the boundary from a neighbor's garden.  

Nothing showcase here, all is old: the land, the trees, the house and some days me. Even the dog. Nothing quite kept up to snuff.  But what a place of calm and equilibrium, where life can stretch long like a shadow, like the shadows out the window that fill the woods.  

                                       Nina Naomi

 

 

 

YOUR CALMER SIDE

Illustration by Lori Roberts, Quote by Eckhart Tolle

You know I'm a newcomer to mindfulness, just two and a half years.  But ever since I started the practice I've looked for helps.  They're abundant.  One of the helps I found got me thinking about our calmer sides.  We all have one.  I guess it's the accessibility that differs, from person-to-person, from day-to-day.  We know when we're calm we feel differently.  Our breath, our heart rate, our minds are all sending signals of patience and kindness, with ourselves and with others.  

As part of this month's culmination in Thanksgiving I've decided to make gratitude and thankfulness an intention.  The science on this tells me my calmer side will rejoice.  With a little help from the pros, here's the plan:  First, let go of the desire for my life to be different than it is.  Sure it would be nice to feel younger, to have all the family closer, to have all my prayers answered. If wishes were horses . . . .  But that's not real, is it? The idea is to accept today, as it is.  And when I weigh everything, today just as it is, is good.  I can be thankful for that.


Second, let go of expectations. I can tell just by writing this, that leaving expectations behind brings peace.  My breath has deepened.  We can still believe in ourselves, work hard, change anything toxic that we can.  But be more flexible in accepting the results.  

Third, to let go of expectations and limitations means also to let go of the illusion of perfection.  Ah, something easy for me. I couldn't enjoy my life at all if it were tied to perfection.  My yoga poses, my pottery class, the sweater I'm knitting, the poetry I write, the meals I cook, this blog, my body, my whole personality, all are so far from perfect . . . .  And yet, I still trust myself first, my intuitions and my decisions. Where are you on this path?  At a good place I hope. 


Fourth, let go of comparisons.  We've all seen this maxim in one form or another.

"Comparison is the Thief of Joy"

            Theodore Roosevelt

That's what's wrong with social media isn't it?  For all the fun and good it does and the connections it builds, no one ever says "When I'm on Facebook I feel so fulfilled" or "What I like best about my life is the time I spend on Facebook."  Instead it makes us feel itchy, vaguely dissatisfied, morose even--like when we've watched too much TV or sat at the computer or been indoors too long.  I am working to be content with what I have.  That means no comparisons. No comparing houses, cars, jobs, children, spouses, vacations, abilities, achievements . . . no comparing lives!  Experts say letting go of comparisons creates space to appreciate where we are today and how far we've come. 

Fifth, let go of the past.  Not the good things.  Not the memory of my mother's love or how our babies felt when they were little, not the house I grew up in with my brother or the first date with my husband.  But the past that breeds resentment.  The traumatic past, the tough and terrible past that is triggered so unexpectedly.  The past of which we would be rid. This is a hard one; it may require professional help.  Sometimes when I am going somewhere I say, "I'm not going to take __X__ with me."  Some baggage, some thought, some memory.  I can't change the past but maybe, just maybe, I can leave it where it belongs. 

Lastly, let go of "someday."  I know I'm too old to put things off.  But perhaps we all are.  If it's important find a way.  Don't wait until we're out of school or married or the kids are older or we have more money or we're retired.  The expiration date of life is uncertain.  Less uncertain as we age, but still . . . .  If we've let go of expectations and comparisons and limitations then there's no reason to put off what is important to us.  After all, it doesn't have to be perfect!  We've let go of that!

So with help from others this is my November's recipe for calm.  A new season, a new month, a new plan.  And if it goes awry, not as I expect, or not as well as someone else's plan, I'll take it calmly and be grateful for what is.  Trusting myself.