new notebook for scribbles and collages and wacky ideas - sunshine - an airplane playlist - a healing father - morning yoga class - wanting to tell you how much i love you pretty much all the time - flying across the world tomorrow - sand between my toes - real chai tea and good conversation at nirvana - slowing down
..... see you soon.
from kelly rae:
"do you ever feel like you're settling into a newer version of yourself? it feels vague and a bit awkward at first, like the beginnings of a new habit, but then you sort of fall into it gradually. eventually, you wake up one day and feel a bit different, a bit new, a bit more solid in your everyday skin. it's a very hard thing to describe except to say it sort of feels a bit like growing up...but in the best of ways.
it's been insanely beautiful around here. california is teaching me to love what it has to offer. and what it has to offer is perfect weather and some pretty amazing people, too. after 1.5 years of living here (and only 9 more months to go), it feels like i'm falling into my friendships a bit more, much like i'm falling into myself. feels good really, really good."
the countdown begins.
one day until my dad gets to come home. three days until we board the plane to dubai. four days until my toes are in the sand. five weeks until alyssa is here. three months until j&b move to dc.
then springtime. farmers markets. riding my bike in flip flops with a scarf in my hair. drum circle. morning yoga with the windows thrown open. cherry blossoms. late night beers on the patio.
i want to learn to bake, and to bead, and to let go and fly just a little bit higher.
"how soon not now becomes never."
my dad went in for his surgery at eleven this morning. it should last about four hours and then he'll spend a few days in the hospital and several weeks off of his feet. my mom said that he got a private a room so she'll be staying with him tonight, though he insists she stay in a nearby hotel. she's certainly had her overfill of hospitals lately but still continues to be so strong.
he sounded peaceful and prepared and ready to get this over with. i hate being this far away. i want to give him a big hug and brew mom some tea. so instead i went to saint matthews, a gorgeous catholic church across the street. i walked in on a mass so i stayed for a few prayers and stopped to light a candle for him. just being there made me feel protected; something from my childhood like mac and cheese and chasing geese at the lake; and in turn made me realize how safely he is being watched on his journey right now.
and i just got this from my soul friend stefan:
JUST WANTED TO SAY: I LOVE YOU AND I'M TRULY GRATEFUL THAT YOU ARE MY FRIEND.
ALSO: DADDY LARUE ROCKS THE PLANET, AND I WISH HIM ALL THE POSITIVITY IN THE UNIVERSE, PLUS A SUPER SPEEDY RECOVERY.
I HEART MB+FAMILY.
beannacht
("blessing")
on the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
and when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
when the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
may the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
and so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
john o'donohue
eventhough i'm sick it has been such a lovely weekend. very lazy.
a chipotle-infused hot chocolate and reading at the new chocolate shop on 14th/a bright pink manicure and pedicure/alyssa's coming for 4 days in april!/built two new websites/lots of new clothes for work @ lululemon
and i've been daydreaming about these two things a lot (like alot alot.. unhealthily alot):
tonight i made a big mug of tea and changed into my pajamas at seven. it's cold. it's february. and i have absolutely no desire to traipse around dc. instead i wanted a lot of time just to myself. i'm finding that this is the case a lot lately. i derive a lot of pleasure from slowing down, climbing into bed with a book, writing letters, working on whatever new project i've dreamed up.
when said and i moved into our apartment i dedicated a bookcase in our artsy room to my journals, the twenty-odd moleskines i've filled up since my 18th birthday. and sometimes when i'm really needing some advice i come to them, sit down on the floor cross-legged and read back over the past six years. things haven't really changed that much. some of the major players have changed - new loves, new friends, new coffeeshops - but all in all the girl writing years ago is still someone i recognize. sometimes someone i painfully miss. and sometimes someone i'm glad i have a few years on. but no matter what, the dreams i had then haven't changed a bit and i feel that i'm still s l o w l y but surely moving towards them.
i came across this entry tonight with a passage from sabrina ward harrison. i fell in love with her first book when i was in highschool and have come back to her books as often as i come back to my own journals.
"so much checking email, catching the train, grabbing lunch. i want a painting room. i want morning glories climbing overhead. i want great mix tapes and backyard wine drinking. i want really low-key folks. i want to give it up. give up the competition. the city thrives on it. the standards are so high. what really rests at the top? i don't like seeing myself in the mirror trying to get there. i look trashy when i do. i look better camping. i feel better in pjs and socks. where can i go that is simple anymore?"
on the chalkboard in our kitchen i scribbled "leap and the net will appear," a saying often used in the artist's way and a beautiful reminder to live in the moment. well i've leapt and this net has turned out to be far grander than any net i could've imagined.
i've begun working part-time at a yoga shop called lululemon. last night at training the manager said, "just do it and ask for forgiveness later," meaning trust yourself. follow your gut. if you want to make a big change trust your creative impulse. and if it doesn't work out, we'll fix it later. i feel like i hold myself to such strict rules. do this, be on time, say this, and to let go and slow down (even just a teensy bit) opens entire worlds i maybe wouldn't have seen before. i've been trying to do incorporate this "act now" philosophy more into my life. maybe i wake up and am running a little late, but rather than panic i make myself a big tea to walk to work with. or stay up a little later reading the stack of magazines i've neglected.
it's time to sink in and enjoy a little bit. get messy. throw some paint around. make some mistakes.
"you must learn to welcome consciously the most unexpected events of life, to be entirely transparent in front of them, without any motive, either right or wrong. at that moment avoid all judgment, for you do not know what law is in operation."
lizelle reymond
let go of the ways you thought life would unfold; the holding of plans or dreams or expectations – let it all go.
save your strength to swim with the tide.
the choice to fight what is here before you now will only result in a struggle, fear, and desperate attempts to flee from the very energy you long for.
let go. let it all go and flow with the grace that washes through your days whether you receive it gently or with all your quills raised to defend against invaders.
take on faith: the mind may never find the explanations that it seeks, but you will move forward nonetheless.
let go and the wave’s crests will carry you to unknown shores, beyond your wildest dreams or destinations.
let it all go and find the place of rest and peace, and certain transformation.
dana fould
from swirly girl:
"I realized that my recent efforts towards connecting all of the Things I Do - or I should say my efforts towards sharing the Things I Do in a way that expresses their interconnectedness - is not about wanting to put forth some sort of image or ideal or glamorized version of myself. If anything, I feel like I am running the risk of diluting the titles I put on things like business cards. Artist. Writer. Swirly. If anything, I am trying to create something much broader, something that conveys the fact that I do many things and have many pursuits, but they are all linked by one overriding value, which is to create a passion-fueled life. If I wanted to simply be an artist, I would create art every day and try to get it sold and exhibited. If I wanted to be a writer I would write and try to get my work published. If I wanted to be a photographer...etcetera, etcetera.
But my life is not guided by just one thing, and I do not believe it is just one thing I do that makes my life worthwhile. I am learning instead that the possibilities for my life are much wider, broader and full of possibility than I have been imagining for myself - and I've dreamed BIG, believe me. The reason I know this is because the journey I am now on has connected me to some of the most astounding human beings on the planet, people who have their own amazing, inspiring stories to tell, and somehow we have found our way to each other. These connections are becoming more frequent, more meaningful and more life-affirming. I consider each new encounter a confirmation that I am on the right path.
I am an artist, a writer, a wife, a friend, a traveler, a housekeeper, a grocery shopper, an organizer, a photographer, a daughter, a blog reader, a website designer, an entreperneur, a runner, a cyclist, and a philosopher. I am not especially confident in the kitchen, get distracted easily, love road trips, have bouts of overwhelming fear and insecurity, and love the smell of celery salt. I am just living my life, and trying to make it as meaningful as possible. I am trying to do my best and to be authentic. I am trying to operate from a place of integrity every step of the way. I am trying to be a positive force in the world, and I have written of these things before. But I think I have been missing a huge part of the landscape that is available to me, and I now see that my life isn't about a specific title or job description; it isn't about accomplishing some grand goal that the rest of the world defines as success. It is about following my own path, expressing myself, trusting my heart and sharing my journey.
I will be writing more about this I know, as I continue to try to define exactly what it is I am talking about, but for now I dare you to expand the vision you have for yourself, for your relationships, your dreams, your work, your life. Dare to know that there is tremendous abundance available to you right now...at this very moment...and that there are so many things you do that play a part in creating a life that makes your heart sparkle. It is all the little things that create the larger story, the deeper meaning, the wider vision. Dare to throw the titles you've given yourself away and instead see that all the possible monikers you might have are what actually creates the unique tapestry that is you."
1. Allow events to change you. You have to be willing to grow. Growth is different from something that happens to you. You produce it. You live it. The prerequisites for growth: the openness to experience events and the willingness to be changed by them.
2. Forget about good. Good is a known quantity. Good is what we all agree on. Growth is not necessarily good. Growth is an exploration of unlit recesses that may or may not yield to our research. As long as you stick to good you'll never have real growth.
3. Process is more important than outcome. When the outcome drives the process we will only ever go to where we've already been. If process drives outcome we may not know where we’re going, but we will know we want to be there.
4. Love your experiments (as you would an ugly child). Joy is the engine of growth. Exploit the liberty in casting your work as beautiful experiments, iterations, attempts, trials, and errors. Take the long view and allow yourself the fun of failure every day.
5. Go deep. The deeper you go the more likely you will discover something of value.
6. Capture accidents. The wrong answer is the right answer in search of a different question. Collect wrong answers as part of the process. Ask different questions.
7. Study. A studio is a place of study. Use the necessity of production as an excuse to study. Everyone will benefit.
8. Drift. Allow yourself to wander aimlessly. Explore adjacencies. Lack judgment. Postpone criticism.
9. Begin anywhere. John Cage tells us that not knowing where to begin is a common form of paralysis. His advice: begin anywhere.
10. Everyone is a leader. Growth happens. Whenever it does, allow it to emerge. Learn to follow when it makes sense. Let anyone lead.
11. Harvest ideas. Edit applications. Ideas need a dynamic, fluid, generous environment to sustain life. Applications, on the other hand, benefit from critical rigor. Produce a high ratio of ideas to applications.
12. Keep moving. The market and its operations have a tendency to reinforce success. Resist it. Allow failure and migration to be part of your practice.
13. Slow down. Desynchronize from standard time frames and surprising opportunities may present themselves.
14. Don’t be cool. Cool is conservative fear dressed in black. Free yourself from limits of this sort.
15. Ask stupid questions. Growth is fueled by desire and innocence. Assess the answer, not the question. Imagine learning throughout your life at the rate of an infant.
16. Collaborate. The space between people working together is filled with conflict, friction, strife, exhilaration, delight, and vast creative potential.
17. ____________________. Intentionally left blank. Allow space for the ideas you haven’t had yet, and for the ideas of others.
18. Stay up late. Strange things happen when you’ve gone too far, been up too long, worked too hard, and you're separated from the rest of the world.
19. Work the metaphor. Every object has the capacity to stand for something other than what is apparent. Work on what it stands for.
20. Be careful to take risks. Time is genetic. Today is the child of yesterday and the parent of tomorrow. The work you produce today will create your future.
21. Repeat yourself. If you like it, do it again. If you don’t like it, do it again.
22. Make your own tools. Hybridize your tools in order to build unique things. Even simple tools that are your own can yield entirely new avenues of exploration. Remember, tools amplify our capacities, so even a small tool can make a big difference.
23. Stand on someone’s shoulders. You can travel farther carried on the accomplishments of those who came before you. And the view is so much better.
24. Avoid software. The problem with software is that everyone has it.
25. Don’t clean your desk. You might find something in the morning that you can’t see tonight.
26. Don’t enter awards competitions. Just don’t. It’s not good for you.
27. Read only left-hand pages. Marshall McLuhan did this. By decreasing the amount of information, we leave room for what he called our "noodle."
28. Make new words. Expand the lexicon. The new conditions demand a new way of thinking. The thinking demands new forms of expression. The expression generates new conditions.
29. Think with your mind. Forget technology. Creativity is not device-dependent.
30. Organization = Liberty. Real innovation in design, or any other field, happens in context. That context is usually some form of cooperatively managed enterprise. Frank Gehry, for instance, is only able to realize Bilbao because his studio can deliver it on budget. The myth of a split between "creatives" and "suits" is what Leonard Cohen calls a 'charming artifact of the past.'
31. Don’t borrow money. Once again, Frank Gehry’s advice. By maintaining financial control, we maintain creative control. It’s not exactly rocket science, but it’s surprising how hard it is to maintain this discipline, and how many have failed.
32. Listen carefully. Every collaborator who enters our orbit brings with him or her a world more strange and complex than any we could ever hope to imagine. By listening to the details and the subtlety of their needs, desires, or ambitions, we fold their world onto our own. Neither party will ever be the same.
33. Take field trips. The bandwidth of the world is greater than that of your TV set, or the Internet, or even a totally immersive, interactive, dynamically rendered, object-oriented, real-time, computer graphic–simulated environment.
34. Make mistakes faster. This isn’t my idea -- I borrowed it. I think it belongs to Andy Grove.
35. Imitate. Don’t be shy about it. Try to get as close as you can. You'll never get all the way, and the separation might be truly remarkable. We have only to look to Richard Hamilton and his version of Marcel Duchamp’s large glass to see how rich, discredited, and underused imitation is as a technique.
36. Scat. When you forget the words, do what Ella did: make up something else ... but not words.
37. Break it, stretch it, bend it, crush it, crack it, fold it.
38. Explore the other edge. Great liberty exists when we avoid trying to run with the technological pack. We can’t find the leading edge because it’s trampled underfoot. Try using old-tech equipment made obsolete by an economic cycle but still rich with potential.
39. Coffee breaks, cab rides, green rooms. Real growth often happens outside of where we intend it to, in the interstitial spaces -- what Dr. Seuss calls "the waiting place." Hans Ulrich Obrist once organized a science and art conference with all of the infrastructure of a conference -- the parties, chats, lunches, airport arrivals — but with no actual conference. Apparently it was hugely successful and spawned many ongoing collaborations.
40. Avoid fields. Jump fences. Disciplinary boundaries and regulatory regimes are attempts to control the wilding of creative life. They are often understandable efforts to order what are manifold, complex, evolutionary processes. Our job is to jump the fences and cross the fields.
41. Laugh. People visiting the studio often comment on how much we laugh. Since I've become aware of this, I use it as a barometer of how comfortably we are expressing ourselves.
42. Remember. Growth is only possible as a product of history. Without memory, innovation is merely novelty. History gives growth a direction. But a memory is never perfect. Every memory is a degraded or composite image of a previous moment or event. That’s what makes us aware of its quality as a past and not a present. It means that every memory is new, a partial construct different from its source, and, as such, a potential for growth itself.
43. Power to the people. Play can only happen when people feel they have control over their lives. We can't be free agents if we’re not free.
Grow, grow, grow.
"do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach, check your road and the nature of your battle. the world you desire can be won. it exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours."
ayn rand
oh iowa, how i love your quietness and simplicity. sleeping in and waking up to hazelnut coffee and heaping plates of strawberry pancakes. taking a four-hour nap in the middle of the afternoon because, well, there's nothing else to do. the four of us sitting around our fireplace and drinking cheap vino.
i am literally doing nothing. i have books to read i haven't touched. i don't really feel like watching television. it seems too cold to go for walks. so instead i do a little yoga, a lot of sitting, and just enjoy soaking up this time of peace and quiet, and lots of love.
things i'm grateful for today:
my dad's bone scan came back 100 percent clear/said and i bought our tickets to dubai (march 1 thru 10)/i'm going to be able to wrap my arms around my family tomorrow at 9 pm/i taught a really fun yoga class last night/sia's new album/the mini cadbury eggs that are already on shelves
inspired by a couple of friends who have started reading "the artist's way," i've decided to commit to the twelve-week course myself. a friend gave me the book in high school and it has traveled to college with me and then to dc, but i've never actually read or done the course. the whole book is about unblocking and restoring your creativeness.
for me, it's about recovering my creativity in not just writing but in my yoga. i feel like i always have these lengthy to-do lists, and i rush past even the things i enjoy, like planning a yoga class or writing an article. i want to sloooooow down. let things simmer. and soak. and become.
i got this quote in my inbox today:
"most of the time we go through the day, through our activities, our work, our relationships, our conversations, and very rarely do we ground ourselves in an awareness of our bodies. we are lost in our thoughts, our feelings, our emotions, our stories, our plans.
a very simple guide or check on this state of being lost is to pay attention to those times when you feel like you are rushing. rushing does not have to do with speed. you can rush moving slowly, and you can rush moving quickly. we are rushing when we feel as if we are toppling forward. our minds run ahead of ourselves; they are out there where we want to get to, instead of being settled back in our bodies. the feeling of rushing is good feedback. whenever we are not present, right then, in that situation, we should stop and take a few deep breaths. settle into the body again. feel yourself sitting. feel the step of a walk. be in your body."
joseph goldstein
said & i are going to dubai!
after you wake up you probably open the curtains and look outside. you may even like to open the window and feel the cool morning air with the dew still on the grass. but is what you see really "outside"? in fact, it is your own mind. as the sun sends its rays through the window, you are not just yourself. you are also the beautiful view from your window. you are the dharmakaya. dharmakaya literally means the body (kaya) of the buddha's teachings (dharma), the way of understanding and love. before passing away, the buddha told his disciples, "only my physical body will pass away. my dharma body will remain with you forever." in mahayana buddhism, the word has come to mean "the essence of all that exists." all phenomena--the song of a bird, the warm rays of the sun, a cup of hot tea--are manifestations of the dharmakaya. we, too, are of the same nature as these wonders of the universe.
thich nhat hanh
i read this today and it totally resonated with me. i had to post it. thank you michelle!
"i tend to listen when *the universe* sends me messages and the concept commitment has jumped out at me several times in the past two days - most recently last night as i was going to sleep. i was reading a book about integrative nutrition (wow!) and at the beginning is this idea often mistakenly attributed to Goethe, but actually written by W. H. Murray a 20th century Scottish mountaineer:
“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets: Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.”
if there is a dream of your own that you are hesitating about, commit to it. take that first major step. many times in my life when i’ve been floundering, i’ve committed, or re-committed to something - a friendship, a job, a dream…and found it coming much more easily, as if i was no longer swimming upstream, but moving with the tides….commitment helps to put you in a state of flow."
my brother is here!
he flew in yesterday afternoon. we had a big lunch, went thrift shopping, played with the kyoko babies, and then came home to practice for his teaching fellows interview. apparently during the audition one of the girls wrote on the markerboard with a sharpie. poor thing!
it's so wonderful to have him here. we've gone on long walks, gotten big coffees, and caught up on anything and everything all day long. he grounds me.
from this beautiful blog"
i was talking to my friend morgan the other day about change…
about how even when it is good,
and you know you are doing the right thing,
it does not always feel comfortable.
like, what do you do with that spiritual awkwardness,
those evacuated spaces that used to occupy
so many thoughts and conversations?
my sweet friend said its like
someone is handing you a white canvas.
you don’t have to make a mark on it right away.
you can just be with it for awhile.
funny how this never occurred to me before.
why stick something there just for the sake
of not having it empty?
(that is probably how i winded up with a
storage unit full of shit i don’t know what to do with.)
i have to admit,
minus the pressure of a deadline,
life seems way more manageable this way.
i want to live a life
without notes.
without outside influence.
without evidence.
tonight at yoga kyra spoke about opening rather than resisting, and it really resonated with me. there have been a lot of things in my path lately that have been more than easy to resist - resist my dad's cancer, resist my grandma's death, resist problems at work. mostly resisting the fact that for the past month my heart has felt big and vulnerable and totally terrified. i can honestly feel it sometimes when i wake up in the morning, or when i go to bed. like this giant untamed orb in the center of my chest, needing a little attention, and instead i hunch my shoulders and go back to sleep.
all of this living requires a lot of bravery, whether we are aware of it every moment or not. there's a lot of putting yourself on the line, a lot of disappointment, but also tremendous amounts of love and compassion when we're ready for it. it's the reason i've turned to yoga and a reason that i plan on spending the rest of my life teaching others how to allow it into their lives too. because when i first laid down on that mat this evening, i wanted to either scream or cry or explode. but when i stood up i could hear my breath, slow and labrious. and i walked home rather slowly too, noticing the sharpness of the stars and the amount of garbage in our lawn. and then i shut the door and just cried.
and for that i thank you.
“life moves on whether we act as cowards or heroes. life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestionably. everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. what seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy and strength, if faced with an open mind. every moment is a golden one.”
—henry miller
“It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wilderness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn’t interest me if the story you’re telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.” — Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Christina: in santa fe, to dog sit, some people ask you about your sign before they'll agree.
how you climb up the mountain is just as important as how you get down the mountain. and, so it is with life, which for many of us becomes one big gigantic test followed by one big gigantic lesson. in the end, it all comes down to one word. grace. it how you accept winning and losing, good luck and bad luck, the darkness and the light.
-philosophy
practice is twofold. the first part is training; the second is the act itself. and these are not two things; when you train, the act itself is happening; when you are the act itself, your training is deepened. practice is to work "as if." the lawyer practices as if she or he were an attorney. the doctor practices as if she or he were a physician. being and learning are one and the same. it is just as though you were trying to play the piano with mozart's hands. at first such action "as if" is awkward, but with practice your music becomes your own best creation. in the same way, our zazen becomes your own best inspiration, and your interaction with others expresses the love which has been in your heart from the very beginning.
robert aitken
i love this song.
/sleeping in on sundays/my dad kicking this cancer in the ass/airing up those bike tires and going for a ride/reading/making some big changes/a daily yoga practice/going back to iowa/teaching my weekly tea and yoga class/brunch and bloody mary's with said/painting the office/finding my zen once again/a little more light in the evenings/cooking dinner
