Unplanned Beauty

You cannot hold onto the moment, you can only make it last by knowing that the past is what you do with the present. So let the present define what you want your future to be. I wrote this tonight thinking about what life would be like if we knew that our moments are never lost, but changed by the future that is always appearing while our past is what is made of our present. It sounds more complicated than it really is because the past is often with us in our memories or those of other people or in photographs, journals, blog posts, or dreams.

Many times, what we find beautiful is what surprises us. It is unplanned, but we can choose how to accept it or what to make of it. We can be sad because it is fleeting, or fragile, or artificial or we can be amazed at how precious and timely it is. It can also be the realization that your life is changing, and that on the outset new realizations reflect new growth that you never thought was possible before.

I regularly volunteer at a comfort care hospice home where I provide care for residents and their families and friends who visit their loved one during his or her final days. It is a place where peace and love can be given and received not based on what one has done, but because one thrives with it. It is a place where the presence of light in each of us is made known as a beacon of hope or a reassuring comfort that one is not alone, when dying, or being with the dying. Many times while I am there, I find beauty in the moments that are fleeting, the moments that I can't always choose or create, but live with everything to experience and be an important part of.

This past weekend I spent two, four hour shifts listening and being with our resident, and her family. It can be a gift to step into the life of a family at such a moment where you meet loved ones knowing the tenderness and uncertainty of each day that may be someone's last. In these circumstances, there are many beginnings and many times to realize that this is all life is. The beginnings in new aspects of relationships, new chapters of life, beginnings of realizations, and the part of us that takes in another's memory as they pass on.

This may be all life is, but it is through our actions in it that it becomes something extraordinary. Lifting a child up in the air as he laughs, filling taco shells and sharing a meal with those we meet along this journey, crying with a daughter by her dying mother's bedside, hearing two men playing guitars and sharing what will be a memory worth reminiscing in the future, and knowing that what we do to live is what really matters, for life is not about just oneself, it is about everyone.

Unplanned beauty may be the most fleeting and it can be the most inspiring. It is where the light within our soul radiates through our being and connects to the instant we are no longer anyone else but ourselves, with our very personality, and knowing this is what we cannot hold, but what we can remember and make our lives with, both alone and with the human family.

Candles lit outside the hospice home in memory of  loved ones.

A Sunrise Across the Fields

This morning I woke up much earlier than usual to help my uncle milk his friend's cows. As I walked out of the house, I saw the moonlight reflecting off the fresh snow that only showed me the delicacy of the morning. It wasn't very difficult to get out of bed and walk the short distance to my uncle's house by the light of the moon guiding my way. As we drove over to his friends, I continued to take in the slow, quieter pace of the hours just before dawn.

Dairy farms (and I suppose many farms) have a certain culture about them that are about the animals and crops that regulate the schedules outside of human control. They seem to have a slower, but steadier pace that isn't interrupted by various deadlines or affected by high stress conditions. The heifers come into the milking parlor to be milked before going out to the pasture or stalls to eat or rest, give birth, and raise their young. Most of the time, it's easy come, easy go unless one of the cows gets spooked. Farms also have a particular smell that is unmistakable. While I would most certainly avoid walking barefoot through the manure or the fields, I find that I am limited to living and being aware of my senses in nature because if I look to what's next, I'll miss what I have to do or live through right now.

By being present with the cows as I dipped their teats in disinfectant or cleaned their udders so they could be milked, I could pay attention to each individual cow and be alert if one would try and kick me if  she did not want to be milked. It was an opportunity to see what would happen if I let an animal show me what needed to be done, and how to be with them quietly. It ended up leading to moments of peace and appreciation for nature and its pace that we are all apart of. Its natural pace reveals how connected we are to animals, plants, and all of life and how that helps provide me with balance.

Mornings are more special to me than the evenings as I find sunrises to be more peaceful and calming because many people are asleep or are enjoying the quiet while evenings are usually more boisterous and lively.  After the milking, I watched the sun rise into the sky casting a glow over the fields around the farm. To be connected to the land, and to feel how small I am in relation to everything is inspiring just as I realize that I have a role that is part of the synergy of life. In the morning, a new day begins. Cows need  to be milked, life begins after evening's slumber, and the sunrise brings us all together for another day together with all of life.

In the fields just after sunrise.

Water Reaching The Depths

Water flows along brooks and rests in tarns in mountains that reach into the sky. Its captivating power has a way of connecting with us, perhaps because so much of our bodies contain this mysterious substance. As I listen to water flowing or pattering on the fly of a tent, it amazes me how the natural sound reaches me where I need to be soothed, and allows me to reflect on the movement of life and the wideness of this planet. 

In many ways, folk melodies strummed from a guitar, mandolin, banjo, or plucked from a fiddle have a remarkably similar effect on me. As the melodies join the harmonies of a vocalist singing from the raw, evocative roots that touch the heart, and reverberate within the soul with memory and melancholy. Such music can move me to tears either from sadness or from recollection, and even profound joy linking the waters of life to the mellow richness of a folk guitarist singing to the cultures and to the bowels of the earth. 

These melodies and waters form a well for our spirit to be reached, and maybe shared. In this well, the depths of our dreams, our histories, our relationships can be drawn and bring us together or more in touch with ourselves. Why are we drawn to waterfalls, rapids, and crashing waves? The fast movement of water is like the fast movement of life and cannot be slowed, but can be savored and experienced with it's full force and blast of emotion and heart that makes us feel alive. As the melodies reach us, and inspire us, we can form them to mean what they will for our lives. From splashing in puddles and laughing as we dive deeper into the salty waters of the ocean discovering the soul of the earth to rising again as we grow more aware of what this life brings by wading in and embracing what is there. 

Niagara Falls - Summer 2010 

Light From the Soul

Life's precious moments cannot be held onto, because like water, they are cherished and felt, before slipping away. The memories may linger, but whatever was happening gives way to whatever will happen, or is happening. Our lives can be touched and forever changed by the momentous or the quiet murmur that strikes us where we are able to receive and know it before it passes away.

The human soul can be evoked, and evoke as music or art. Music as a force can drive into our souls and rouse us into action like nothing else. The soaring of melody and the undercurrent of harmony may mount our hearts and leave us in tears for music is one of the few expressions where we can feel solidarity with our sister, understanding with our brother, angry with our condition, or jubilant with the connections we forge with our ancestors and the celebrations we have with each other. As music is created from the conditions that we feel in our soul, it is shared by those that sing or play with the composer, and maybe even embellished as the community and kinship is formed. 

Holiday music can also create connections to ourselves and to others. This afternoon as I sat in the Hochstein Performance Hall in  downtown Rochester, New York and heard Madrigalia, a Chamber Chorus from the city, sing for "A Cup of Good Cheer." The festive music really illuminated the overcast day with a brightness that infected the children listening to this program of Live From Hochstein. As the soaring voices reached the balcony where I was sitting, I saw the children sitting nearby with their heads resting in their arms looking out over the balustrade. One began bouncing energetically during the jazzy rendition of Jingle Bells as the warmth of the seasonal tunes burst forth to resonate with those celebrating the season's joy and hopefulness. Without words, we can express our simple joyfulness and excitement or thoughtfulness that brings us together to connect with the music and tradition of the time. 

During the moments of song over the course of the hourlong concert, the expressions of Christmas were found filling the performance space with wonder and reverence creating and evoking images of the nativity and decorations that adorn edifices this month. Without these expressions at this time for these people the soul could not have been illumined in that way as the collective voices sang out to share the warmth and gladness of a moment of memory that formed before giving way to whatever came next. 

A serene peaceful scene of snow and pine.

Why Barefoot?

Before I get very far in describing those moments that make me realize that this is life, in moments and instances of indescribable wonder, I want to go into depth in explaining what I mean by "life barefoot."

By being barefoot, it is possible to experience more because you aren't feeling just the air against your arms or face, but the ground beneath your feet. Once barefoot, it is easier to be sensitive to what you hear or smell. Then you can realize that you might be able to see things more vividly and taste the complexities in food if you happen to be munching on something. Whenever I go barefoot, somehow I notice more, however that does not mean I have to be without shoes or socks constantly to live this way.

Life barefoot is a reality and a metaphor for experiencing the senses of life that create the experiences and moments that are full of beauty and amazement that make one feel their soul or know they've stepped into something utterly beyond words - yet this is what I want to try to do. As described in my first post, I want to put words to these feelings and times that have become a memory or a moment that just took you and made you realize that this is what life is all about. That this is not about what could be, but it is about what is, and what you find to be increase your capacity for stepping into the beauty that surprises you.

This is a way of being inspired, for the life you have is yours. Seize it, and find the opportunity to live in it and to live barefoot. 

Free

Though we in the United States often talk about freedom, we don't often talk about feeling free because quite honestly, we are usually bound by the fetters of insecurity, regret, and worry. All these things make it impossible to be truly free, and similarly, make it impossible to feel free to be yourself; the person you are and no one else. Yet, when we let go, being free can release us of those persistent pieces of our thoughts that edge out the moment where we can create our present which gives us permission to shape our future.

Moments of freedom come from this release, and can also be available in activities where we must focus on ourselves and our surroundings or find ourselves missing the way forward. In contra dancing, each move is part of a sequence, both alone and with a partner and other pairs of partners that are part of a certain timing. Although there is often time to catch up if something is missed, it still alters the flow slightly. As such, flow allows for moments of freedom within contra dancing. Even the music allows us to breathe and move in to community with ourselves and others sharing the set with you.  Recently when I was dancing, there was a moment between the neighbor whom I balanced and swung with where the rhythm, movement, and connection provided an interpersonal oneness that was not necessarily spiritual, but understanding and knowing. With worry and doubt, this couldn't have been experienced, but in the present, we can take what we bring to each interaction and allow it to shape both our reality and thoughts towards what was and what is so that the past doesn't always have to be a trap on our present.

These minutes of dancing can be short or long, and they can release me into a freedom of joy and deep contentment that leaves me accepting the future and the past as beautiful parts that are shared in the present. By sensing the beauty of life in its freedom that you must give yourself permission to experience, the way through to the future is unlocked by release and embrace.

Contra Dance at Cornell University - Ithaca, New York