Are You Dreaming the Dream, Or Is the Dream Dreaming You?

What's the difference between seeing an illusion and being delusional? I listened to a CD of Pema Chodron's last night. She spoke about the difference between illusion and delusion.

Illusion, she explained, is all of us dreaming the same dream. If I understood her correctly, I pick up a ball, and others see me pick it up. I throw it through a window (by accident, of course), and others hear the glass breaking. But we're all dreaming, and it's all the dream.

Delusion, she went on to add, is when you're the only one who sees something, whether others are around or not.

So, what I want to know is: Are mystics and prophets seeing more of the illusion, or do they see behind the curtain, or are they delusional? For your journal/discussion, tell what you think about that. Or...

Choose one of these photos. Using descriptive language, tell what you see. Now enter the picture, entering the dream, and have another look around. Use two or more of your senses and tell what's going on, who else is there with you, what's happening out of the camera's view.

Finally, are you dreaming the dream, or is someone dreaming you?

"You're Gonna Make It After All!"

Near the spot in the street where it happened.

"It was hard work, working on my work, at work today."

What are you working on now? What challenges are you facing? What new adventures? There's the work we do at our jobs or at school, the work in relationships at home or with our family, friends and community, and the work within. So, what are you working on now?

Okay, I'll start. Since I write poems about much of what I'm noodling or have puzzled through, here's some of the writing I'm working on now:

A poem about Oprah and Eckhart having a conversation when she's ninety, about what Truth is and whether or not God exists.

A poem about grief as a tomb on the floor of the ocean, and the decision to return from the depths, to rise and resurface to air and sunlight.

A poem about passionate love, about wanting to be in control of the emotions, to be care-full and respectful, trusting and trustworthy, and wanting to surrender more and more deeply and completely.

A poem about our debt to the earth and our response or lack thereof.

And the novel about Patricia's passing, and what illness and grief teach us about courage and devotion.

So, what are you working on now, at your job, at home, or within? If you're embarking on a great challenge or a new adventure, remember the words from the Mary Tyler Moore song..."You're gonna make it after all!"

If whatever you're working on is too heavy to think about now, like Scarlet O'Hara, you can think about it tomorrow. For now, what does your screen saver look like these days? Mine is the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp, where their noses haven't yet met, but the spaghetti strand is getting shorter. The look of hopefulness, love, and caring in their eyes.

Some upcoming events that may be of interest to Cali poets or visitors:

7:30, Thur 9/19, Al Young, California Poet Laureate, Emeritus, will be at Becket Books, SF
4:30, Sat 9/28, "100,000 Poets for Change" will be at Oceana Arts Gallery, in Pacifica.

CREATIVE SOULFULNESS

What inspires you? Of all the activities you're able to do, which is it that compels, motivates, or drives you? You know what I'm talking about--what really gets your creative, competitive, or compassionate juices flowing?

Is it travel or cooking? Discovering or sharing something new? Building or taking something apart?

And how much time do you actually spend doing this thing that energizes your body, mind, spirit, or all three?

Does it involve animals or people? Music or art? Is it more a practicing and acting out, or a contemplating and be-ing within? Participating or observiing, serving or receiving? Sorting and finding relationships among things, or building and attending to relationships with others?

What would you have to do to spend even an extra hour a day doing this activity that would enrich your life and, most probably, the lives of those who love and are loved by you? Think about it.

For your journal or discussion. On Perspective:

(Nuestra Madonna de la Smithsonia)

What's it like to be

1. the new kid?
2. the mouse caught by the cat?
3. the artist at the gallery opening?
4. the tourist or the sales clerk at a strange gift shop in a far away land?
5. the hiker fallen into a ravine or the rescuer approaching the precipice?

What do they perceive, think, feel?

In Carolyn Kizer's book, THEODORE ROETHKE--On Poetry & Craft, the author reveals that Roethke said many useful things in his classes. He urged his students to "think of a poem as a three-act play, where you move from one impulse to the next, and a final breath."

For Southern and Central California poets and artists, two readings you might appreciate:

9/8, 2:00, Avenue 50 Studios, Highland Park
9/14, 4:00, Granada Books (the new bookstore), Santa Barbara (on State St., Downtown).

Notes For the Voyage...

What are the sources of the sacred in our lives?  Really, beyond church and sacred texts, how do we, even as children, know what is sacred and what isn’t?  

Life is a treasure…treat it with________?

“Follow your heart,” the saying goes. I see an image of a heart as a compass. So the question, “How did I get here?” And the answer, “I followed my heart--or I failed to.”

We watch movies like Amelie and revisit stories from our teens and early twenties. We begin to see them in new ways, with less seriousness, less preciousness, and, paradoxically, with more respect for all we knew then, and all we didn’t know we knew.

We can revisit poems, too, changing the perspective. My poem, “Namaste” offered fraught impressions of others who were present with me at a time of profound tragedy. For practice, and from a place of calm and increasing awareness, I rewrite it from their perspective, looking at me.  

Los Angeles is a good place to find hope among the hopeless.

Who am I? Why am I here? What was I born to do?

How a sea of yellow mustard flowers sprouted in the two weeks while I was gone, to run like a golden river along the trail where I climb. The plant that greets me in the middle of the road, across the street from the place where we greeted each other years ago, where I held the back of her head while we embraced, where we poured out our hearts.

The courageous person enters deeper and deeper into the mystery, knowing s/he doesn’t have the answers--and then, when s/he gets some, going deeper. 

Take your heart, for example. What is that? Hold it in your hand. What does it mean when you give away your heart? 

For your journal/discussion, respond to any of the items in this post, or go “off-trail” and see what you find. Write or share about your discoveries or questions here or with another.

Smile and Be Inspired...

Wyoming, gotta love it.

Fishing Clark's Fork one day, Climbing Beartooth Highway (in a car) the next.

Inspiration from sun and shadows.

Remembering the poem, "Two men looked through prison bars. One saw mud, the other, stars." ~Langbridge

My dad taught me to see things in the clouds from a very young age. We had a huge cellar at our home there by the reservoir. The cellar door was wide and slanted. We'd lie there looking up at the sky and he'd point things out to me. As I learned to talk, I started pointing things out to him. We could go on like that forever. When I look up and see things in the clouds, it seems we have. Dad would have loved Wyoming.

The Nurses Who Saved Me

"Do you continue to revise poems after they have been published?" Yes, evidently, I do. This poem has just been published in Packingtown Review, a literary journal. However, after I submitted it, the images and ideas continued to needle me until it became this, below. I like to see how a poem evolves. I thought I would share this evolution with you. What about you? When do you know a poem (or a painting, or any work of yours) is finished?

The Nurses Who Saved Me

After she died, I was lost, I wanted to be, like a dry

windswept thing. Memories where we lived were

rusted barbs wrenching into me. So I fled

to the desert. There the nurses were like Sherpas

telling stories of their travels--the old hiker on the peak

attacked and almost scalped one night by a grizzly.

While it ravaged his tent, they dragged him behind a tree

and propped him up against it, digging in on either side

to warm him with their bodies, keeping him awake

with stories whispered all night long so he wouldn’t

freeze or fall sideways, bleeding to death before one

of them could run for help in the morning.

Meanwhile, they were terrified by the bear’s stealth

coming and going, scavenging his busted tent throughout

the long hours--a darkness they could smell but couldn’t see.

Listening to their stories beneath the stars I was

distracted from everything, so close to the fire

my boots turned gooey, the toes started melting.

The next day on a high outcropping we rested

from hiking. I closed my eyes while the wind

buffeted, billowing all around me

and contemplated leaping to see how glorious far

from this world and my suffering its wildness

would take me--but thought the nurses

on either side might try to save me. Not wanting

to risk what could happen to them, I kept hiking

and listening to their stories.

(See the published version at www.packingtownreview.org)

To Remember

Today is the ten-year anniversary of the beginning of the war in Iraq. Here is a version of one of the poems I wrote during that time, published in TOTEM. The photo is of the "I HATE WAR" sculpture at the FDR Monument, Washington, DC.

Petunias

Last night, the ultimatum.

We hold our beloveds and wait.

Flowers in our courtyards

are too fragile
for these days.

Wind whooshes hard ice

parting my hair

so my scalp stings

as I pull aching shoulders

up around my neck.

Petunias hunker down

in the stark light

of an azure sky

that seems too bright

to be ironic.

Everywhere flower bursts

are pushed down,

almost flattened

against the brittle ground

by a searing cold.

After the fires, there will be

monarchs boasting,

dead sons and daughters

--all of them ours,

and even the flowers

will be drenched

in humanity’s shame.

For your journal/discussion:  War, Ultimatum, Fragile, Stings, Brittle, Searing, Drenched, Shame. Choose one word, write for 3-5 minutes, or longer. Then choose another...and another. Use all your five senses, or as many as you can. Then read what you wrote. See if you have the beginnings of a poem. ("Petunias" originally appeared in TOTEM, the visual and literary arts journal of the California Institute of Technology.)

My poem about longing (in Avocet, a journal of nature poetry) with more for your journal

Waiting

This longing palpable

     no matter where or with whom.

All these years

     something missing.

Sometimes heard

     in the pining

of the solitary bird

     at the rim of the bluff,

unseen but sensed

     in wind moving

like a hidden thing

     brushing the sashes of the trees.

Calmed by the patience

     of surrounding hills and mountains,

did others feel it?

     Were they waiting too,

like the little songbird I sought

     and followed

that flew just out of view

     but at a pause

resting, came

     and sat in the stillness near the tree

at the edge of the lake

     in the shadow of the mountain

watching the water with me.

1. Choose one of these words, or another, and write for five minutes: LONELINESS, LONGING, CALM, PATIENCE, RESTING, WAITING, PINING, FEAR, JUBILATION, IRRITATION, SERENITY.

2. Describe a scene in nature or in a town, a place that captures a feeling, a space that is itself a metaphor for a feeling you want to convey. Use as many of your senses as you can.

3. Tell of an intense time when you chose or were forced to rest with an emotion, whether grief, anger, anticipation, hope, isolation, joy, or what have you. After a while, what did you do with the feeling? Did it escalate or dissipate as you sat with it? What was the benefit or fallout of simply resting with the emotion?

4. Respond for five minutes to one or more of the images in this post. "What's the story?"

Thank you for visiting my blog. I hope it's helpful. If you know someone who might benefit from it, please share the link: www.dmsolis.blogspot.com. Again, thanks, peace and all good,

Diane

On the Benefits of Creative Mindfulness at Work

First, to help you focus mindfully on the work you do, a few questions about you--for your own journal or discussion:

1. Who am I? As someone who works at what I do, what is my identity?

2. What am I accomplishing at work? What do I want to accomplish in my life through this work?

3. How was my work good or challenging yesterday? How might that impact my efforts or the efforts of others today?

4. What’s the most important lesson I’ve been learning in my work as a/an _____________ (insert occupation or role)? This lesson is important because... 

5. Why am I grateful? What am I looking forward to in my work and in my life?

For creatives and non-creatives alike, attending to the meaningful experience of the present moment, even at work, can result in many benefits, including:

better decision making, calmer more focused discussions, empathetic awareness, and a broader sense of perspective, not only for solving problems creatively, but for dealing with others in truly effective ways. This can benefit you and others beyond the cubicle, office, work bench, kitchen, classroom, vehicle or field where you work.

When complications, problems, or disagreements arise, as they inevitably do, a practice of mindful reflection helps us to keep our emotions in check. As a result, we can approach conflict with calmness and even a sense of curiosity. “Hmm, I wonder why that happens? I wonder why he feels that way about it? I wonder how I or we can improve this situation?”

There’s a world in every mind and a universe in every heart, including the minds and hearts of our customers, whoever they may be.

Our lives and theirs, as well as the lives they touch, may be positively impacted by our mindful, creative approach to the challenges and far-reaching solutions of the day.

WHY WE DO WHAT WE DO...LIFE-LONG LEARNING

In my experience, two things people frequently want to know about a work of art, whether a poem, song, painting, drawing, photo, movie, or play are

1. How the artist was inspired to come up with the idea, and 

2. Why she or he went forward to create it.

First, let me ask you: Why do you think people paint, write, compose music, write songs, sculpt, dance, blog, etc.? If you're a creative, why do you do the creative things you do?

Here's my short answer (and I'm really curious about yours): As a writer and artist, I create for a number of reasons, some of which I've explained here in the past. Beyond that, I write and add photos here not so much to show where I've been or what I've done, but  

to communicate with people I care about what I've experienced, what the experiences have taught me, how I've grown or still need to grow, and what I've learned.

Through stories and images, I try to add to the balance of insight and meaning in our world. I hope this helps readers connect with me, and me with them, and that it makes me a better communicator, helping me to be better for relationships with people I've known for years and with the folks I meet here and there in my travels.

But more about you. Let me probe a little further: What inspires you to share the things you share with the people in your world? See if you can describe a specific example.

Life Is Short...How Would You Spend This Time?

(with Journal/Discussion prompts at the end of the post)

We get a box of vegetables and fruit delivered from an organic farm periodically. We never know what's going to be in the box, so it's always fun to open it up and see. Recently, as I washed some of this wonderful produce, enjoying the experience as usual, an unpleasant memory crowded in. It was a memory of the intentional and unintentional cruelty of others from the not-so-distant past. This took me out of the present joy of waking up every day with the most beautiful person in the world, of preparing for us a healthful meal, of taking in the colors and feeling the textures of the work that was before me. Perhaps this has happened to you too.

Thankfully, a sudden memory of my precious grandmother’s words brought me back to the present moment, “Only God knows the day, and the hour, and the minute when life as we know it could change or end. We have to cherish every moment.” Nellie was only fifty-six when she died. We were very close and I truly adored her, so I’ve always taken her words to heart. Similarly, Pema Chodron quotes her own teachers in a few of her books. I’ll paraphrase here: “Life is short. The end is uncertain. How would you spend this time?”

Thus, I was transported back to the present happiness in my life. I was pleasantly struck (upside the head) by Nellie's and Pema's words. As I heeded their message, and focused on my task, I felt grateful for the meditative aspects of doing something I’ve done a thousand times, like washing fruit and vegetables while feeling the refreshing caress of water pouring softly over my skin.

I focused with gratitude on my ability to use my hands as I chopped the various fruits and vegetables I chose. I enjoyed the bouquet of their colors and fresh fragrances, adding tofu, apple juice, and frozen organic berries, since they’re out of season now. I listened to the happy sound of my noisy blender, churning up the whole mixture, then to the dribble and splash as I poured out our drinks into tall glasses. I experienced the pleasure and satisfaction of handing a glass of nurturing healthfulness to my beloved, who greeted it with such joy and appreciation. At last, I tasted the sweet delicious coolness…. To think, I could have missed all that.

During my journaling time or on my weekend retreat, I can focus with compassion on the people who hurt me. Haven’t I failed to be kind at times? Haven’t I done or said things I wish I hadn’t? And I can work on my reactions to the things they did or failed to do. There’s a difference between not putting up with behaviors that are unkind or harmful, and lashing back, or holding on to what hurts from the past. I can work on that too.

For today, in present moments, it was good and important to withstand the way the memory took hold, not falling into a cycle of going over and over what they said, what I said, what I could have said, really telling them off in my mind…. It was healthful to stay in the “now,” to experience the joy in my life, even right in my hands as I performed a routine morning ritual. It was a far grander thing to honor the grace of the present moment.

Today is “Creativity Tuesday” here at the blog. Did you think I forgot? I’ve chosen to share all this from a creative healthful perspective, to use it as one of those teachable moments, even to share with you pictures of the veggies and fruit that arrive in our deliveries from the organic farm, expressions of creativity in nature and all around us. Perhaps you'll do similarly when you get a minute to consider one or more of the following suggestions.

For your journal/discussion:

Think about a time when the past choked off something good you were about to enjoy. Rewrite the scenario with a more fulfilling ending?

Get on with living: Write a letter or poem to a loved one from your past, telling them something you forgot to say, or telling them you love them, or telling them goodbye.

Write a description or poem about creativity in nature as you experienced it recently or in the past.

Share about a routine task, even a seemingly mundane one, that allows you the mental freedom to meditate or relax.

And never underestimate the power of a loyal pup to ease the pain of the past. As my friend Julie says, “Life is short…hug your dog.” 

For the Voyage Outward, and the Voyage Within

What if, right in your own homeland, you find magnificent, pristine places that transport you to a state of serenity, awe, or joy? 

What  if you want to share them with everyone you know, but also want to keep them to yourself? 

Here are some images from places that have impacted me in these ways. If you wish to know where they are, let me know. Where are the places you go?

For your journal/discussion:

1. Name one place you would like to see this year? Five in the next five years or so?

2. Have you asked yourself lately, “Why am I here? What is my purpose in this life, in this space, in this/these relationships, on this planet?” 

3. AUTHENTIC, HONEST, TRUE. Pick one of these words. Tell how you’re being authentic, honest, or true in the place where you find yourself now, in your relationships with others, in your relationship with yourself. 

 

  

Honoring Those Who Served Us With Their Lives

While we honor those who have fallen, let us also remember the veterans who are still with us, who are impacted every day by the lingering harshness of war.

These are a few of my photos from Arlington Cemetery. We're heading back to D.C. soon. I'm hoping to get out to Virginia to experience the sacredness of this space in autumn.