Quest by Quotation
The obstacle is the path. Zen proverb
Have you ever tried to find peace, only to be blocked by one obstacle after another? Did you give up or did you work your way through? What would it mean to believe that gaining peace is hard work well worth doing?
The Rocky Road to Zen
I planned to put a Japanese or zen garden in the corner of the backyard to hide the fact that all green things had died in our North Carolina drought. I planned to create a place of peace and meditation in the midst of a busy fall and my husband's latest PSA test results being up more than we like. I planned to research, ask for help finding resources, and just enjoy creating something that I could appreciate all year long.
Little did I know!!! Searching on-line I discovered that the term "zen garden" is not truly Japanese but was re appropriated after the term had origins in the west, like pizza making its way back to Italy. So there went my idea of being authentic except for my inherited Japanese lantern from my mother's garden. I couldn't find anyone who could tell me what kind of gravel to use in my garden so that I could make lovely raked patterns. I found Japanese screens on-line which definitely would not bring me peace due to the price. Finding a lovely substitute at our local Lowes was only a momentary thrill as I discovered it was the only one in the entire Raleigh area after the end of season clearance...sure enough, I needed two. My husband's truck battery was dead when we tried beat the heat and get to the Stone Center early to pick up the stones I had eyed the day before. What on earth?
Those obstacles really threw me for a loop on my journey to build my little haven of peace. This was supposed to be an easy project with a relaxing outcome and, instead, turned into a mountain of aggravation. I sure wasn't feeling peaceful this morning when the truck situation pushed me over the edge. But as the proverb says, "obstacles are the path." So I began cataloguing the good parts of this adventure coming through the struggles.
If the information I needed had been at my finger tips, I wouldn't have searched as much on-line and learned about the all the famous, and not so famous, gardens in Japan, including the one that was my inspiration, Ryoan-ji. (Thanks to the Bowdoin College site on Japanese gardens )
I wouldn't have discovered the Stone Center (highway 55 in Durham, NC) head guy, Pat Lynn who was available when we finally arrived, is a fount of knowledge about zen gardens, the types of stones and gravel people look for. Of course, with all that new found information, I couldn't decide whether to go for mountain looking stones or the practice of having a papa, mama, and baby stone so I did the American thing and got them all. So much for simplicity.
I wouldn't have appreciated how hard my husband worked in the heat when I hit a snag as I put up my screens. He also looked pretty good with his muscles flexing. Oh, did I say "screenS"? Yes, indeed. I wouldn't have had the joy of finding another bamboo screen unexpectedly in a corner of another Lowes, next to the first of the Christmas ornaments already out in September!
My muscles are aching. I still have a day's work of laying down a pebble path and planting a juniper as my sole bit of green in my garden. I might even go back to the Stone Center for more gravel to make sure I have the required two inches. But my little garden, "Julie's interpretation of a Japanese garden that Westerners call zen," has enlightened me, tired me enough to sleep well tonight, and promises plenty of meditation in the days ahead. The obstacles have been worth the path to peace.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Quest by Quotation
God, for wise reasons, has made our affairs in this world, almost as fickle and capricious as ourselves.—Pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other; and he that knows how to accommodate himself to their periodical returns, and can wisely extract the good from the evil,—knows only how to live. Laurence Sterne
Do you believe that pain and pleasure run in cycles in your life? How do you see the good in the dark times, or are you able to do so? Has God really made "our affairs...fickle" or does God have more to do with how things go in our lives?
Lunar Eclipse
Early this morning, the moon, glowing golden last night, disappeared from view. A lunar eclipse. It wasn't as dramatic as a solar eclipse. After all, it was at 5:30AM and few were awake. There is also something about having a reflected light, rather than light source, disappear from view. No biggie. So we all just slept through and greeted the sun as it rose instead.
I have been pondering the issue of life's light and dark moments this week as the new book detailing Mother Teresa's spiritual darkness, Come Be My Light, was covered extensively in the media. Her letters revealed she founded her mission but then felt abandoned by God, or rather didn't feel God's presence for most of the rest of her life. Needless to say, people do not expect this from a woman many consider a saint. To which, one of my friends said his first response to the coverage was, "so you think being a saint is easy?"
That is where I think Laurence Sterne has it right, considering he is an eighteenth century male. Life IS full of periods of light and darkness, pleasure and pain, opportunities to cling to God against the moodiness of our daily existence. Women are often accused of being moody, living in the highs and lows, but maybe we just recognize the characteristic up and down quality of life that Sterne talks about, flow with it, more than men do. Mother Teresa flew to the highest of heights in her relationship and calling to God. It does not surprise me she then found herself in the darkness. I am reminded of being told not to look at the sun because it would burn one's eyes and cause blindness. Was the darkness a result of such spiritual ecstasy or a closer tie to Christ and his earthly experience? Maybe, it was just a part of life's capricious nature and cycles that Mother Teresa adapted to...
It has been said that Mother Teresa's experience would make it easier for those going through dark times, or feeling God's absence. As much, we can also learn from Sterne. For most of us, life is not all light or all darkness. Seeing the good in the dark times, knowing that good times are not the sum total of what helps us grow through our lives, this realization can bring us comfort and peace each day be it cloudy or fair.
God, for wise reasons, has made our affairs in this world, almost as fickle and capricious as ourselves.—Pain and pleasure, like light and darkness, succeed each other; and he that knows how to accommodate himself to their periodical returns, and can wisely extract the good from the evil,—knows only how to live. Laurence Sterne
Do you believe that pain and pleasure run in cycles in your life? How do you see the good in the dark times, or are you able to do so? Has God really made "our affairs...fickle" or does God have more to do with how things go in our lives?
Lunar Eclipse
Early this morning, the moon, glowing golden last night, disappeared from view. A lunar eclipse. It wasn't as dramatic as a solar eclipse. After all, it was at 5:30AM and few were awake. There is also something about having a reflected light, rather than light source, disappear from view. No biggie. So we all just slept through and greeted the sun as it rose instead.
I have been pondering the issue of life's light and dark moments this week as the new book detailing Mother Teresa's spiritual darkness, Come Be My Light, was covered extensively in the media. Her letters revealed she founded her mission but then felt abandoned by God, or rather didn't feel God's presence for most of the rest of her life. Needless to say, people do not expect this from a woman many consider a saint. To which, one of my friends said his first response to the coverage was, "so you think being a saint is easy?"
That is where I think Laurence Sterne has it right, considering he is an eighteenth century male. Life IS full of periods of light and darkness, pleasure and pain, opportunities to cling to God against the moodiness of our daily existence. Women are often accused of being moody, living in the highs and lows, but maybe we just recognize the characteristic up and down quality of life that Sterne talks about, flow with it, more than men do. Mother Teresa flew to the highest of heights in her relationship and calling to God. It does not surprise me she then found herself in the darkness. I am reminded of being told not to look at the sun because it would burn one's eyes and cause blindness. Was the darkness a result of such spiritual ecstasy or a closer tie to Christ and his earthly experience? Maybe, it was just a part of life's capricious nature and cycles that Mother Teresa adapted to...
It has been said that Mother Teresa's experience would make it easier for those going through dark times, or feeling God's absence. As much, we can also learn from Sterne. For most of us, life is not all light or all darkness. Seeing the good in the dark times, knowing that good times are not the sum total of what helps us grow through our lives, this realization can bring us comfort and peace each day be it cloudy or fair.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Quest by Quotation
Adventure is just bad planning. Roald Amundsen
Do you believe adventure is just bad planning? What does this quote say to you about planning ahead and spontaneity?
What are your plans for today?
"What are your plans for today?", my dentist asked. Why do they always ask questions when their fingers are in your mouth? He had to ask the question again because I didn't answer. "What are your plans for today?" I looked at him with this stunned look in my eye and said, "I have no plans." "Lucky you," he replied.
I left the dentist with the realization that it was 9:00 AM and I had already had the highlight of my day. The dentist! I called my husband and asked if our rescheduled trip to Hawaii was on or not. If it hadn't been, well, I would have been in the temp services office of NC State or Manpower within the half hour. No plans! The dentist thought I was lucky. My friends still think I am fortunate to be between jobs, working on a wonderful volunteer program like The Flower Shuttle, seeing friends, traveling with my husband, and writing. But I wasn't feeling blessed, only blindsided.
Now I know that God has plans for me: "I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) I continue to count on that blessing each day. I still remind myself of my earlier "Ah, ha!" moment post-postponed surgery when I tried the great experiment of just seeing what would rise forth on days that were free of any and all plans. But that morning in my dentist's office, I was hit with the realization that maybe sometimes I avoid making plans because I expect adventure to just drop in my lap. Some days it does. Some days it doesn't. And on those days, plans come in handy.
In reality, I do have longer term plans as I work on a charity event for The Flower Shuttle which will be held in October. Then we try again to go to Hawaii. Do I need to have firm plans for each day, each hour? Obviously, my dentist assumed so and, for just a moment, so did I. But I think mainly what I needed the reminder of a sense of adventure when approaching each day, regardless of what I may already seeing myself doing in it.
Adventure is just bad planning. Roald Amundsen
Do you believe adventure is just bad planning? What does this quote say to you about planning ahead and spontaneity?
What are your plans for today?
"What are your plans for today?", my dentist asked. Why do they always ask questions when their fingers are in your mouth? He had to ask the question again because I didn't answer. "What are your plans for today?" I looked at him with this stunned look in my eye and said, "I have no plans." "Lucky you," he replied.
I left the dentist with the realization that it was 9:00 AM and I had already had the highlight of my day. The dentist! I called my husband and asked if our rescheduled trip to Hawaii was on or not. If it hadn't been, well, I would have been in the temp services office of NC State or Manpower within the half hour. No plans! The dentist thought I was lucky. My friends still think I am fortunate to be between jobs, working on a wonderful volunteer program like The Flower Shuttle, seeing friends, traveling with my husband, and writing. But I wasn't feeling blessed, only blindsided.
Now I know that God has plans for me: "I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) I continue to count on that blessing each day. I still remind myself of my earlier "Ah, ha!" moment post-postponed surgery when I tried the great experiment of just seeing what would rise forth on days that were free of any and all plans. But that morning in my dentist's office, I was hit with the realization that maybe sometimes I avoid making plans because I expect adventure to just drop in my lap. Some days it does. Some days it doesn't. And on those days, plans come in handy.
In reality, I do have longer term plans as I work on a charity event for The Flower Shuttle which will be held in October. Then we try again to go to Hawaii. Do I need to have firm plans for each day, each hour? Obviously, my dentist assumed so and, for just a moment, so did I. But I think mainly what I needed the reminder of a sense of adventure when approaching each day, regardless of what I may already seeing myself doing in it.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Quest by Quotation
No heirloom of humankind captures the past as do art and language. Theodore Bikel
What heirlooms capture YOUR past? Is there a favorite piece of clothing you just can't part with? Or is it your grandmother's set of dishes? Your old baseball glove? Or simply a memory....
Out with the Old, In with the Older!
I have spent a good bit of time this morning moving mementos and antiques out of their display cases and shelves. Church tithing banks that families used to collect their offerings for Sunday, duck decoys, and dust, lots of dust, all have gotten moved, wiped or packed away. I had thought I had done a great job with my husband of decluttering in the past few months. "Look at all that open space," we congratulated ourselves. Then my dad wanted us to divide more heirlooms and take them home.
Dividing heirlooms is not one of my favorite tasks. "Who gets what" combined with having to find space while also expecting my husband's (an only child) heirlooms to show up does not make for my kind of fun. My thought is, "if I have done without these things since I moved out at the age of 19, then I can do without them now." Well, except anything with a peacock on it - the fireboard, china plate, carnival glass bowl and yellowware pitcher. I am obsessed with peacocks but haven't the slightest inking why. No accounting for taste, I guess.
So I am dividing items into categories: stuff which is taking up space but has no meaning and can be sold or stored, "growing up" items with memories, married life acquirements that make me sentimental, things to rotate but keep on display, things destined for my children or the attic...it's work! No wonder the Bible warns about accumulating stuff with the story of the merchant who built bigger and bigger barns.
But I must confess that getting a piece of old slave made pottery from the Hilton plantation (with all the historical and emotional angst that entails), more of my dad's bird carvings, and other family items does cause a ripple of excitement as I anticipate their arrival. I can add them to the memories of partnering with my dad as we worked on his memoir as things truly worth holding on to with both hands. They inspire ruminations of history or appreciation of relationships and times gone by. So I will find the space for these things.
Maybe if I can get my kids to take some of the things that inspire their memories....
No heirloom of humankind captures the past as do art and language. Theodore Bikel
What heirlooms capture YOUR past? Is there a favorite piece of clothing you just can't part with? Or is it your grandmother's set of dishes? Your old baseball glove? Or simply a memory....
Out with the Old, In with the Older!
I have spent a good bit of time this morning moving mementos and antiques out of their display cases and shelves. Church tithing banks that families used to collect their offerings for Sunday, duck decoys, and dust, lots of dust, all have gotten moved, wiped or packed away. I had thought I had done a great job with my husband of decluttering in the past few months. "Look at all that open space," we congratulated ourselves. Then my dad wanted us to divide more heirlooms and take them home.
Dividing heirlooms is not one of my favorite tasks. "Who gets what" combined with having to find space while also expecting my husband's (an only child) heirlooms to show up does not make for my kind of fun. My thought is, "if I have done without these things since I moved out at the age of 19, then I can do without them now." Well, except anything with a peacock on it - the fireboard, china plate, carnival glass bowl and yellowware pitcher. I am obsessed with peacocks but haven't the slightest inking why. No accounting for taste, I guess.
So I am dividing items into categories: stuff which is taking up space but has no meaning and can be sold or stored, "growing up" items with memories, married life acquirements that make me sentimental, things to rotate but keep on display, things destined for my children or the attic...it's work! No wonder the Bible warns about accumulating stuff with the story of the merchant who built bigger and bigger barns.
But I must confess that getting a piece of old slave made pottery from the Hilton plantation (with all the historical and emotional angst that entails), more of my dad's bird carvings, and other family items does cause a ripple of excitement as I anticipate their arrival. I can add them to the memories of partnering with my dad as we worked on his memoir as things truly worth holding on to with both hands. They inspire ruminations of history or appreciation of relationships and times gone by. So I will find the space for these things.
Maybe if I can get my kids to take some of the things that inspire their memories....
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Quest by Quotation
The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. Henry David Thoreau
Often we don't get the full picture of our daily lives unless we step away from the routine. How have you stepped away this summer? What perspective have you gained? What do you count as star-dust or a bit of a rainbow?
Beyond the Rainbow
Marty and I were married on one of the hottest days DC had seen, 99 or a 100 degrees depending on who you ask, 100% humidity. The record wasn't broken until this year, the same time we decided to celebrate our anniversary by going to Charleston, SC for a few days. We had been to Charleston before, together and separately, and so expected to leisurely stroll the streets without feeling like we had to scurry around and see all the highlights. Rising early each morning to beat the heat, we wandered the streets and snuck through alleyways, taking pictures of gardens behind walls, lush window boxes, and colorful architecture. We stopped in art galleries to cool off, be inspired and, unexpectedly, discovered dappled dachshunds, coton de tulears (a small breed from Madagascar) and teddy bear yorkies. Who knew we would get warm fuzzie bundles of fur with our art? A little surprise, like a rainbow on a stormy afternoon. It is easier to see the surprises of life when you are on vacation just as it is easier to ponder your life if you aren't plodding through the daily routine.
The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. Henry David Thoreau
Often we don't get the full picture of our daily lives unless we step away from the routine. How have you stepped away this summer? What perspective have you gained? What do you count as star-dust or a bit of a rainbow?
Beyond the Rainbow
Marty and I were married on one of the hottest days DC had seen, 99 or a 100 degrees depending on who you ask, 100% humidity. The record wasn't broken until this year, the same time we decided to celebrate our anniversary by going to Charleston, SC for a few days. We had been to Charleston before, together and separately, and so expected to leisurely stroll the streets without feeling like we had to scurry around and see all the highlights. Rising early each morning to beat the heat, we wandered the streets and snuck through alleyways, taking pictures of gardens behind walls, lush window boxes, and colorful architecture. We stopped in art galleries to cool off, be inspired and, unexpectedly, discovered dappled dachshunds, coton de tulears (a small breed from Madagascar) and teddy bear yorkies. Who knew we would get warm fuzzie bundles of fur with our art? A little surprise, like a rainbow on a stormy afternoon. It is easier to see the surprises of life when you are on vacation just as it is easier to ponder your life if you aren't plodding through the daily routine.
I believe we look at Thoreau's bit of rainbow in our hands, and are blind to what our daily lives really amount to in the scheme of things. If we are blessed, we see the star-dust and rows of color. But often we just see dust and the rain. Conversely, sometimes we need to see the rain and the dust but fool ourselves into believing things are beautiful and hunky dory! In either case, that is where stepping away and examining our lives is so fruitful.
Charleston was what a mini-vacation was supposed to be: a time away to "regroup" as Marty said and see what "the daily harvest" truly is, as Thoreau implies. It also was a metaphor as we looked at the "Rainbow Row" of houses that Charleston is famous for. Somehow they just weren't as wonderful as we remembered, given that we had also seen the Painted Ladies of San Francisco. The Row was far better in our mind than in real life.
Our perspective had changed based on new travel experiences and time. We weren't dissatisfied with Rainbow Row, but it no longer was our most favorite landmark. Kind of how our satisfaction with our daily lives changes, given time and experience. For me, this trip reminded me that a great $100 meal can be made at home for less than ten...if I would take the time to cook! A $10,000 painting is wonderful but so is a picture taken by one's talented husband and put on display. Days of vacationing in a city whose historic district reminds us of Europe are wonderful but the routine of daily life has its own rewards upon returning home. Yet, the vacation time away and distance gave me the space to think about getting back in the working world and what that would entail.
Glad for the time away to ponder. Glad to be back to move forward. Glad for the daily routine and for the changes needing to be made in it so the stardust reveals the stars and the bit of rainbow becomes the full arch.
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