~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
Simply ask, then be at ease
and go about your way
knowing that, in its perfect time,
your request will be granted.
Keep your heart light, your mind
open, your trust a matter
of course. Then surrender,
and go where you are led.
Believe this. The earth is filled
with goodness, and jewels gleam
everywhere.
We try to make sense of things,
to find something familiar,
something we can name.
So words come – reptile, bird –
and they wind themselves
into stories large as legend,
their meanings rolling down
through mists of time. I see.
These lines and patterns
and textures and hues
are for gazing, mandalas
to mirror your mind.
The first assignment on the first day
of the second year of winter studies
was to look around and see what
what I could see and as a subset
of this, perhaps to notice how
I was experiencing the experience.
It was all, I can tell you, far richer
than I expected. Take for instance
the way I felt drawn to this tree,
to this cut section of it that I’ve watched
for a couple years now. It was deep
in shadow, but even so, the colors
of its resin ran down its surface as if
they were made from melted crayons.
I held my breath as I photographed it,
feeling honored to be allowed.
This is a ceremonial vision drum.
As I gaze into its smoky depths
I imagine dancers silhouetted
before a great bonfire and hear
the rhythm of their drums.
Then I blink, and think, laughing,
that this is only Day One.
I have a quote for you to play with this week. This one is from American motivational speaker Denis Waitley: “Life is the movie you see through your own eyes. It makes little difference what’s happening out there. It’s how you take it that counts.”
Now here’s my question for you: What’s the soundtrack of your movie? And what would happen if you changed it?
You know how, when a movie starts, the soundtrack tells you a lot about the feel of the movie? You get a sense right away whether it’s going to be suspenseful, or nostalgic, or funny. The soundtrack sets your expectations about the kind of story that’s about to unfold.
So I ask you again: What’s the soundtrack of your movie? And what would happen if you changed it?
Once I was having a really frustrating time at work. I had this co-worker who really got under my skin. My teeth would clench the moment she walked into my office. Her voice was one of those finger-nails-on-the-chalkboard, high-pitched whiny voices. Even her gestures irritated me.
I struggled for a long time trying to learn to like her, or at least to be able to endure her presence without wanting to explode. Then one day I happened to have the radio playing quietly in the background when she walked in. Some playful little tune was on that reminded me of old-fashioned TV sitcoms, maybe an episode of “I Love Lucy,” if you’re old enough to remember that. And that did the trick.
All of a sudden the movie I was seeing through my own eyes turned into a comedy, and my co-worker could have won the Oscar for best supporting actress. Everything she said seemed funny. Her voice seemed funny. Her gestures were hilarious. I managed not to laugh out loud, but I’m sure I smiled more brightly at her than I ever had. And you know what? Because I was relaxed and happy, she softened somehow and relaxed, too.
We both saw each other in a whole new light that day, and we worked together much more easily from then on.
I remember another day when a change in my soundtrack made a difference, too. It was the day after my mother died and I was standing on my front porch watching the sunrise, full of an aching grief over my loss. But then, as the clouds took on color, the key of my soundtrack changed just a bit into a sweeter sound and melted my grief into a kind of peaceful acceptance, and an inner knowing that Mom would always be with me.
Music has great power to color our emotions. There’s even some science that maps the connection between feelings and sounds. But you don’t need to know the science to make it work for you. Just play with it.
When you’re in an uncomfortable or stressful situation, try imagining what the soundtrack for it is like. Then experiment with imagining a different kind of tune.
Comedic music can make a surprising difference in your perspective. But play with different genres. Pay attention to the background music in movies that you watch and see how it underscores the mood of the scene. Keep a little collection of a range of mental tapes on hand. You can practice while you’re doing mundane things like walking or driving or shopping or cleaning, even while you’re taking a shower, and see how it changes your perspective and your mood.
Because it is your movie, as Waitley says. And because you’re the producer, director and star of it all at once, you can change it any way you want, at any time.
Me? I’m going for romance this week: I plan to fall in love with life all over again.
Wishing you chart-topping hits this week, every single day.
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay
The woods were still dark, the morning sun
only now rising on the sleeping scene,
the branches bare, the revelry over,
the previous night’s rain having washed
to the ground the bits of what remained.
Except for the flaming scarlet song floating
down the hillside through the night’s debris,
I might have missed her altogether,
there, at the crest of the hill, her leaves alone
remaining. She sang as one deep in reverie,
uttering a last, personal blessing over all
that she had witnessed here since spring,
humbled perhaps at the realization
that she got to be the final witness of it all.
Imagine that. The last one.
The night before I came across
this water-washed sculpture
made of the roots of a tree
and time and weather,
I watched a great buck
with a multi-pointed crown
slowly climb the western hill,
listening, watching, the first
I’ve seen this season.
“A deer.” The word sprang
to my mind the moment
I saw this graceful figure,
hewn from a tree, here by the creek.
I stepped closer, taking in
the creation’s lines and texture
and colors, the sorts of things
I learned to notice last winter
when that was all that was left
to see. And now the season
of such seeing begins again
and something eager rises
within me.
Getting there is one thing.
The destination’s the main reason
for the journey, I suppose.
But it’s not everything, and maybe
not even the most important.
Once you reach it, after all, another
soon takes its place. Always
there is more to see and do.
Just maybe it’s the journey itself
that matters most, the times
you paused along the way to look around,
to feel yourself being, alive, savoring
the company, the day’s fine view.
Blessed are we when we have a companion
who lingers by our sides as we travel our days,
someone whose heart holds our own gently,
who flows with our moods without judgment,
who understands our thoughts and ways,
someone who makes the days of peace
more lovely, and the days of darkness
easier to bear, who lends strength
when we are weak, and who applauds
us when we’re strong, someone whose
smile is as warm as sunshine, and whose
love lets us know that our life is worthwhile.
They don’t settle down right away.
Like children tucked into bed
after an exciting day, the trees
take some time to sink into silence.
First, they must whisper stories
to each other, to giggle and tease.
They must wiggle a bit and ease
themselves into just the right
position before the winter dreams
will come, floating in like clouds
on a snowy evening. But then,
what stillness! And beneath it,
what stupendous dreams they dream!
This exquisite moment, like them all,
was, you know, inevitable, poured
from all the causes that came before.
From the instant the first note was sung,
all the others followed, arising
from its tone. These woods, this slant
of sunlight, my hand lifting the camera
to catch them, your eyes seeing the scene,
your mind sensing its warmth and depth,
all these were inherent in that first
pure note, that first exhalation
of the perfect, infinite Song.