How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a weary world.
~William Shakespeare
Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. ~Buddha
My daughter-in-law had a candle party last night. She asked each of us what we liked about candles. "How they smell" and "they are pretty" were popular answers. Mine? "I like the flame." As much as we've learned we must watch candles closely while burning them, I am still fascinated.
No, I am not a firebug but there is something about candle flames that have always fascinated me. In their miniature essence, I can see a full fire burning in the fireplace, crackling at a campsite, even in a tiki torch lighting a path. Candles can light a dark room as well as a chandelier of 60 watt bulbs. Candles can make a table romantic, give a focus for meditation, signify God Almighty's presence, or help celebrate a birthday. Thinking about it, candles are pretty powerful things.
Shakespeare and Buddha both recognized the power of candles and how readily they symbolize the light that we bring to others when we volunteer, share a good word, or simply feel grateful for each new day.
As we move to shorter days and longer nights, in this season of thanksgiving, I am going to try to be a candle burning bright. On the days when it seems the smallest of things doesn't make enough of a difference, I am going to think of that flame. When I see others burning bright, I will rejoice in the light they give off and bask in it myself.
After all, there is another quote, "how do I make myself look prettier? I always dine in candlelight." (unknown) It works from the inside out as well. When our souls are shining from doing and recognizing the good, how can we help but reflect the glow?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
A Reason for the Seasons
Quest by Quotation
To be interested in the changing seasons is, in this middling zone, a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
George Santayana
Maybe it was seeing plastic fall leaves tacked over lovely, living tropical plants in Hawaii. Maybe it was coming home to find leaves still not turned in our section of drought ridden North Carolina. Or it could have been finding that crazy Christmas ornament to remind us of Hawaii - a snowman with a lei and a hula skirt! Or even the quote I found this morning about California, "The seasons in Southern Cal are only fire, flood, drought and earthquake." All these have made me think about seasons, how mixed up they can be, and how we depend on them...or not.
Here we think we are fortunate to have two weeks of fall before winter hits. This year I am even missing those two weeks as dry, warm weather has played havoc with the delicate system of the trees and their leaves. But I never thought I would go to Hawaii and see fall leaves signaling Halloween and Thanksgiving. A Boston ex-pat, who came to the Big Island to visit and never left, said the turning of the seasons was the one thing he missed. I remember having the same feeling when I moved down here from Maryland in the days before global warming became the hot topic (all puns intended). Plumeria, ginger, and hibiscus blooming all year long have an appeal, though, that is hard to ignore.
But changing seasons seem to be signals to me and are valuable for that alone. Their change a way not only to mark time but allow myself to look at my life on a regular basis. I am not sure what season I am in since I tend to look at seasons as based on life events than age (where childhood is spring, youth is summer, etc.). As Santayana writes, it is better to be joyful in change than to be stuck wanting the sameness of temperatures that don't challenge or disregarding the subtle beauty of the other seasons. There is promise and beauty in all seasons, regardless of whether you are living one continuous spring (and want to tack up those fake fall leaves to make it different) or suffer through the seasonal changes of spring floods, summer drought and winter blizzards. Taking my chosen quote to heart this week, whether my soul is in the midst of a spring or fall, summer or winter, I will see the beauty in it.
To be interested in the changing seasons is, in this middling zone, a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
George Santayana
Maybe it was seeing plastic fall leaves tacked over lovely, living tropical plants in Hawaii. Maybe it was coming home to find leaves still not turned in our section of drought ridden North Carolina. Or it could have been finding that crazy Christmas ornament to remind us of Hawaii - a snowman with a lei and a hula skirt! Or even the quote I found this morning about California, "The seasons in Southern Cal are only fire, flood, drought and earthquake." All these have made me think about seasons, how mixed up they can be, and how we depend on them...or not.
Here we think we are fortunate to have two weeks of fall before winter hits. This year I am even missing those two weeks as dry, warm weather has played havoc with the delicate system of the trees and their leaves. But I never thought I would go to Hawaii and see fall leaves signaling Halloween and Thanksgiving. A Boston ex-pat, who came to the Big Island to visit and never left, said the turning of the seasons was the one thing he missed. I remember having the same feeling when I moved down here from Maryland in the days before global warming became the hot topic (all puns intended). Plumeria, ginger, and hibiscus blooming all year long have an appeal, though, that is hard to ignore.
But changing seasons seem to be signals to me and are valuable for that alone. Their change a way not only to mark time but allow myself to look at my life on a regular basis. I am not sure what season I am in since I tend to look at seasons as based on life events than age (where childhood is spring, youth is summer, etc.). As Santayana writes, it is better to be joyful in change than to be stuck wanting the sameness of temperatures that don't challenge or disregarding the subtle beauty of the other seasons. There is promise and beauty in all seasons, regardless of whether you are living one continuous spring (and want to tack up those fake fall leaves to make it different) or suffer through the seasonal changes of spring floods, summer drought and winter blizzards. Taking my chosen quote to heart this week, whether my soul is in the midst of a spring or fall, summer or winter, I will see the beauty in it.
Friday, October 26, 2007
A State of Grace
Hawaii is not a state of mind, but a state of grace. Paul Theroux
Back to the blog after a whirlwind few weeks of getting ready for an art exhibit and open house to benefit a volunteer organization I am a part of, and two weeks of vacation in Hawaii to recover from said project. Little did I know when I left in the wee hours of the "morning after", that this trip, like all the other major trips in my life, was at the right time, in the right place. and I was about to discover what Paul Theroux meant by his quote.
It is hard to go to a place where rainbows are around every corner and not think about grace. I spent the first three days of my trip in Hilo on the Big Island while my husband worked on his power plant project. Who knew the Japanese Garden I longed to see was right next to the Hilo Hawaiian where we were staying? Between the exhaustion of the trip and the weeks before, as exhilarating as the event had been, I was in the mood to be in a calm place, surrounded by ponds, statues, pagodas, with the added bonus of the garden looking out on the bay and Mauna Kea. I knew the trip was timely when the one day my husband was gone until the wee hours was also the day that the mountain was not covered by clouds (a rare occurrence).
I have learned over the years, while I love both the water and the mountains, it is the mountains that sustain me during meditation times. When it comes to water, I am more of a sound side person rather than ocean. The islands had plenty of waterfalls, quiet bays, rivers and ponds. They also had plenty of mountains peeking in and out of clouds at just the right moments. But somehow, the divine plan knew, at this point in the trip, I needed this garden without clutter, the old people walking slowly in the morning, and the toddlers being chased by moms in the afternoon. The mama mongoose with two babies, the tea house ceremony I happened upon and being reminded of a dear Japanese friend, the calm of the lagoons crossed by perfectly arched bridges, the bonsai, captivated my mind and spirit. Not to mention I realized my zen garden had been almost a premonition and would be a reminder of my trip, based on the stones I had placed so carefully. I literally could feel my soul unwind.
There will be lots to ponder about my Hawaii trip in the coming weeks, about grace, beauty, and perseverance. That is the beauty of memories, now that my jet lagged mind is less cluttered and my soul is calm.
Back to the blog after a whirlwind few weeks of getting ready for an art exhibit and open house to benefit a volunteer organization I am a part of, and two weeks of vacation in Hawaii to recover from said project. Little did I know when I left in the wee hours of the "morning after", that this trip, like all the other major trips in my life, was at the right time, in the right place. and I was about to discover what Paul Theroux meant by his quote.
It is hard to go to a place where rainbows are around every corner and not think about grace. I spent the first three days of my trip in Hilo on the Big Island while my husband worked on his power plant project. Who knew the Japanese Garden I longed to see was right next to the Hilo Hawaiian where we were staying? Between the exhaustion of the trip and the weeks before, as exhilarating as the event had been, I was in the mood to be in a calm place, surrounded by ponds, statues, pagodas, with the added bonus of the garden looking out on the bay and Mauna Kea. I knew the trip was timely when the one day my husband was gone until the wee hours was also the day that the mountain was not covered by clouds (a rare occurrence).
I have learned over the years, while I love both the water and the mountains, it is the mountains that sustain me during meditation times. When it comes to water, I am more of a sound side person rather than ocean. The islands had plenty of waterfalls, quiet bays, rivers and ponds. They also had plenty of mountains peeking in and out of clouds at just the right moments. But somehow, the divine plan knew, at this point in the trip, I needed this garden without clutter, the old people walking slowly in the morning, and the toddlers being chased by moms in the afternoon. The mama mongoose with two babies, the tea house ceremony I happened upon and being reminded of a dear Japanese friend, the calm of the lagoons crossed by perfectly arched bridges, the bonsai, captivated my mind and spirit. Not to mention I realized my zen garden had been almost a premonition and would be a reminder of my trip, based on the stones I had placed so carefully. I literally could feel my soul unwind.
There will be lots to ponder about my Hawaii trip in the coming weeks, about grace, beauty, and perseverance. That is the beauty of memories, now that my jet lagged mind is less cluttered and my soul is calm.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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