Confessions, Wrestling & Clean Drawers

Pixies reading "A Mythic Life" by Jean Houston

Confessing your sins to others is a compassionate act, don't you think? There is strange kindness in it. It's like an offering of sorts. I mean your confession is a comfort to other sinners, right? You let them know they're not alone in their transgressions.

Hold on a fundamentalist minute, in Buddhism we don't have sins or sinners, do we? But it's a cultural context that's hard to escape don't you find, words like sin or confession, they're tattooed onto some hidden part of us? But I wander-- circuitously. So hard to find your way back to the point when you do that. (Note to self - wander more or less in a straight line from now on.)

But here's where I'm going.  I've been having this feeling that I didn't want to talk about and then I see one brave soul and then another, out themselves. And I stand up in my kitchen, and shout, yes, that's it. that's what's happening to me too!

Nicholas Wilton said it here. And Kris Fretheim said it over here.  And I felt so much better when I read their posts, really, I did.  I felt part of the coven, part of the secret society.

Strange frost fibers in the forest

You see, what I've been doing since this new year reared it's cheeky little head,  is cleaning and tidying my house, tossing out mounds of paper, preparing bags of things for the thrift shops. I am getting down to another layer of ruthlessness in culling "stuff".  It's good in it's own way and I was inspired by a friend who was doing some year end tossing and cleaning. It feels satisfying and freeing to have clean drawers (foolish pun intended).  But after a while I can see the devil in this work. (Goodness those Christian images are certainly busy tonight). Must have something to do with a post Christian holiday haunting?

December was mostly spent in merry making and distractions and now I have forgotten what I used to do, who I used to be.  I have no one to blame but myself, the passage of time, habit, and perhaps my own human nature.  Nicholas Wilton aptly said something like: "I feel like a stranger in my own studio." But what I sense deep in my bones is an aversion to the discomfort of facing the empty canvas; an aversion of being with the squirmy, quivering unknown. So I putter and stall. It's a common artist's tactic. When it's time to create, suddenly there are a thousand mundane tasks that need doing.  And so I wrestle with the demon of cupboard cleaning.  And I am down for the count.  He has me in a figure four leg lock, counting and sorting bits and useless pieces. And the problem is something in me knows.  Something in me cannot be fooled by all this cheery, task oriented busyness.  Something in me knows there is a great chasm between what I am doing and what I need to be doing and therein lies the angst. The truth is never far from us if we are willing to look.

But this I have learned.  It's all okay.  The stalling; it's okay for a while.  Actually it's kind of amusing and touching in a way. It's part of the game by now. And how could I ever get all this cleaning done, if I didn't have something more  important I was supposed to be doing?  How would I ever have a spotless pantry if some tender, vulnerable part of me wasn't deathly afraid of being shown up as a failure?

Buddha's Back In Town

And slowly the movie will play itself out.  Soon I will follow some inner longing down the windy stairs to the studio.  I will  poke about when I get there, maybe have a little tantrum, mess about with some things, wipe a little paint on and off a canvas, maybe fix up an old piece that is calling 911 for help.  I might tell myself I'm not really supposed to be doing this and who am I kidding anyway. And then quite by accident, when I 'm not looking I will fall into a place where things just happen, where I disappear.  And my deepest fears will be dissolved like chalk dust in a drop of wine. I will come to see that I am not as talentless and hopeless as I feared. I mean that's what it was really all about anyway, wasn't it?  Avoidance and distraction is always about that faithlessness that sneaks up on us when we're not looking.

And it's all just fine: what I'm doing now, what I'm going to do and whatever comes in between and after that. I have tidied up the drawer where the nasty words live and  I have placed my sharp tongue back in it's protective sleeve and put them both in a box marked "thrift store".  So be careful when you go shopping. You might get more than you bargained for.

Letting Go Of The Old, Leaning Into The New

A new ritual added itself to my New Year's Eve this year.  The fine, crisp afternoon was perfect for the bonfire I'd been conjuring in my mind.  I cut up some  scraps of paper and took a couple of pens down to the pond where I've been piling branches.  After we'd built up a lovely little chimney of flame and sipped on something mulled we turned our minds to what we'd like to let go of on this last day of the year.  What habit, what attribute, what way of holding ourselves against life could we live happily without in 2012?

In the not too distant past I might have prepared a phone book sized list of things I needed to shed.   But  these days my "Buddha's brain" is a slightly kinder place.  I have given up my status as a self improvement project.

As I warmed by the fire and admired the hazy orb of moon, my mind poked around in the dark basement of memory for the give-aways .  Into the fire with fear, ditto for my lack of faith in myself on a number of fronts.  Into the fire with hesitancy, doubt, with timidity and a final flourish of firey sparks for what holds me back.

Fire, that primeval Mister Clean, so fittingly medieval on the last day of the year.  No dancing, no char rubbed on the face, simply a little tossing of bits of paper to remind us of one ending and one beginning and our intentions for both.  Let go of the old, lean into the new.  Burn down the old shack of musty habits.

I always spend some of New Year's eve contemplating the past year and thinking about the new year.  Refections, intentions, whatever you want to call them, they are worthy of a visit every now and then , worthy of the flashlight of awareness.   You can get really organized and pull your thoughts together as they do over at A Liberated Life or The Uncaged Life.   But if you're like me, you might be a bit more free form, just wandering back over the path that carried you through the year and then letting your heart pull you toward where you belong in the new year.

My intentions are crowding around the parts of my life that have to do with my art, health and spiritual practice. They are keeping company with words like openness, bravery, faith, passion and gusto.  That seems like a hopeful first course.

I wish you the best of what 2012 has to offer, filled with the joy of simple pleasures and an appetite for this precious life.   May you savour every bite, the sweet and the savoury, the slightly bitter and even the tough bits.  It is my great pleasure to travel this leg of the journey with you.

In the Circus of Fear, What Colour Are Your Tights?

There is so much happening in the small space between my ears right now. I'm trying to coax it out onto the page in some recognizable, sensible form, but I think it's more likely to spill out in a tangled ball, like something the cat dragged out of the knitting bag. I'd prefer it to be eloquent and wise but as the Rolling Stones once pointed out "you don't always get what you want."

I have had the great pleasure over the holidays of visiting and spending time on a lot of new blogs; art blogs and Buddhist blogs. I have found lots of sharing of wonderful new inspiring art book and some looking forward and setting of intentions for the year to come. Lots to savour and digest.

Even though the calendar has flipped over to the new year and the party ice has melted in the sink I am spending a few more days in holiday mode. Our daughter is here from out of town until Wednesday so regular programming has not yet returned to this channel. It's an interesting time of year, watching the pre-holiday energy build, reach it's peak and then end. A little year end symphony. The consensus on a lot of blogs is that it's nice to be back to our inspiring work of making art and looking forward.

Today I am aware of a slightly melancholy sense of it all. I always feel a little sad when the Christmas tree leaves the building which happened here on Saturday. In the past I would push those feelings away because sad was an uncomfortable feeling, but now I am okay with that slightly bittersweet sense of it. I usually like the sense of returning to the serene post tree-in-the-house-look but this year there is a slightly edgy feeling as I take inventory of all the things that have to be packed up for moving. I will not be making the house beautiful and returning to my work. I will be going through things and deciding what to keep and what to give away. I am feeling the uncomfortable pulsing of impermanence. Adventure I remind myself, think adventure, not trepidation. Or perhaps don't think at all!

And today we got up in the dark and rain and made the ferry trip over to Salt Spring Island to look for a new place to live. We returned in the dark and rain, at the other end of the day, no house in our eco-friendly shopping bag. I could feel a little mist of worry and fear settle on me as we pulled into the driveway. I got to see the inclination to want to have things solved and settled. The human inclination, I think. I sat with that nubbly, wavy, uncomfortable sense for a bit. I did my stint on the tight rope of fear where the trick is to stay with it, but not indulge it, to let it pass without falling off (no net in this circus). The clown on the edge of the stage kept shouting at me to keep my eye on the ball and have faith. I looked at him a bit crossly and told him he had the wrong act.

So I feel that edgy sense of danger and opportunity in the new year more poignantly this year than others. I will need to sit a lot and pack a lot and keep my rope walking tights nearby. And in deference to right speech I promise not to shout at the clown next time.

Looking back, Walking Forward

I have a little New Year's Eve ritual. I like to spend some time looking back on the old year, taking a broad sweeping look, like I'm flying overhead looking down at the landscape. And some years there are more clouds than others obscuring the view. I see quite a few stars this evening.

A lot happened in 2009. As the result of a "health opportunity" that generally goes by the name of cancer in late 2007, I realized in 2008 that, "news flash: I was mortal". It was time to wake up and do what I really wanted to do, instead of thinking about it, writing about it, imagining it, or being afraid of it. The penny finally dropped that I should get on with life, in a get out there and do things sort of way. Some of that self absorbed, self consciousness and fear dissolved with the surgeon's stitches. So 2009 was the year when I decided to get up everyday (well not everyday, but you know what I mean) and create some art. I needed to show and display my art and meet other artists. I needed to take risks and get uncomfortable. 2009 was the year I looked in the mirror and said who cares if I look stupid. Vanity and vulnerability travel in the same make-up bag.

It was also a year I did a lot of deep spiritual housekeeping. I worked earnestly and made peace and forged a heart connection with my 94 year old mother. I gave up blaming her and grumbling about her and said the hard things to her that needed to be said to move forward. To her credit she was open and ready for the healing to take place and our last months together were warmed by feelings of deep connection. I think the wanting and needing something from each other somehow dissolved. We had deep conversations about her impending death and it was the most peaceful experience I have ever had, to sit with her as she died on August 29th.

We finally decided to sell our house and move from the city to a smaller island than we live on now. We worked hard to get the house ready and put it up for sale. It was a spiritual experience to travel the road of big monetary transaction with integrity. But we negotiated it in a way that felt good and on Dec 16th we signed the final inky flourishes to the sale documents. House sold, time to move on. I have to say Mara made a big visit the night after we signed those papers. Every fear I've had about my health came to visit. Doubt and terror are not at all fun to share the pillow with. It felt pretty clear that the only way out was through the little burning, toxic pit. I found the where-with-all to sit with it and consider my options. Fear was feasting on speculation. Instead of pulling the covers over my head I worked to get a felt sense of what it would be like to throw the deal, stay put and be safe. Mara left empty handed.

I gained more confidence in my art this year by devoting more time and attention to it. "What we feed, grows stronger." I learned a little bit about hitting my stride. I learned not to throw myself into fits of despair when things didn't go my way ( a long standing habitual tendency of mine).

And so 2009 has been a time of great learning and looking forward. Things didn't always go my way but I learned to work with that. I worked to resist collapsing into a little heap of "I can'tness" at the first sign of trouble. Oh maybe a few times but who's counting? I worked with my tendency to obsess over things when they didn't go my way. This is such a strong, alluring tendency for me, one of those things I know in my head to be unwholesome but man, it can grab hold of me and take me on a big old chase.

And the Dharma has remained central and strong in my life. I didn't find a Sangha to sit with in 2009 but maintained my own practice and am connected to a number of "Buddhist" friends and my monk friend.

As I look forward to the new year I have new plans to address some health and stamina issues so that I might do more out in the world. We will move to Salt Spring Island in March after living in our wonderful urban home for the last 13 years. And of course based on impermanence and the fact that we are not in control of the big picture I can look forward to the adventures of another year. As my Zen teacher always says "we do our part and the eternal (or whatever you like to call it) looks after the rest."

May you experience happiness and health and the fruits of your good training in 2010. May we be good company to each other as we walk this path together. Bows to you.

To Forget The Self

One of my favourite things to do on New Year's Eve is look back at the old year.  Somehow doing that helps ground me before I look forward to my hopes and aspirations for the coming year.  This has been a big year for me.  As my friend and raw food chef Jim Maurice (check him out at rawsomelivingfoods.ca) refers to it, I have had a "health opportunity" this year.  It has helped me look more deeply at my life, about what really matters and reminded me to do some things when my natural position is to avoid the difficult and procrastinate.  Toward the end of the year I found a helpful stance.  "Don't take yourself so seriously, relax and do it (whatever was on my mind).  Abandon perfectionism and self doubt, and over thinking.  

I think of  the mixed media work shown here as a bit dark.... a stiff and bandaged figure (that's gauze bandages that form this being).  The background is formed by the words of Zen master Dogen "To study the self, is to know the self, to know the self is to forget the self, to forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things."  This work sums up the "self" for me.  As my Zen teacher would say we are such vulnerable little creatures, silly little creatures sometimes.... so painfully self centred, touchy and self protective most of the time.  But there you have it the human condition....We are all in this same boat together.  So when someone does something that offends or annoys it is so helpful to remember that just like us they are trying to be happy, just like us they are doing the best they can.  Now there is our work...trying to loosen the grip of this little self, increasing our kindness and compassion in difficult situations.  (It's easy to be nice when things are going well!)

So while it has been a difficult year for me in many ways it has been one of the most fruitful, with so much learning  happening at a deep experiential level.  Recently I read somewhere that when we can see experiences that we would normally reject as "medicine for healing" we will embrace them in the same way as those things we find desirable.

So in saying good bye to the old year I would like to mention the passing of local artist Jimmy Wright, who I only spoke to on a few occasions but I found myself deeply touched by his passing.  I loved his huge iconic polar bears and bulls (after all I am a Taurus).  When I heard he had died I felt a real sense of loss that there would not be any more new Jimmy Wright polar bears born into the world.  And in closing my thoughts for the new year are taken from a friend who has had an enlightening health challenge of her own.  I can't express a better way to approach life in any year.  Eden's little prayer is  "Please don't let me take anything personally and I'm just glad to be here."  May we all find the wisdom to live from that place in 2009.  Be well, be happy!  Be present for your life!

Post Apocalyptic Buddhist Graffiti

This is a recent work and feels like my response to what is going on in the world.  With all the economic turmoil in the world this fall I felt the clamouring of people in so many places that "the sky is falling", people that normally seem unphased by things or usually hopeful.   It always seems to me that the dramatic and intense coverage of  issues by the media fuels so much fear in people  How much "news" is created to sell a paper, to get people to tune in to yet another newscast?  What is real, what is illusion?    Yet I am weirdly hopeful.  Some things need to fall away so they can make room for new more wholesome things.  Somehow it feels like that's what is happening.  Birth is not without it's trauma and dangers, a time of passage.

So the scrawl and colour tension in this painting express the angst I feel around me, the chaos and fear that is palpable.  The words on the canvas are hopeful words from the Dalai Lama's from a piece called "This Precious Life" which encourage us to work with our everyday lives: 

Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to have woken up.  I am alive.  I have a precious human life. I am not going to waste it. I am going to use all my energies to develop myself, to expand my heart out to others, to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings.  I am going to have kind thougths towards others.  I am not going to get angry or think badly about others.  I am going to benefit others as much as I can.

May 2009 bring great joy, happiness & health to you.  May it be a year rich with learning and life.  This is my wish for you.