A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.
Creatavita: Create and flourish, professionally and personally.
Friday, August 31, 2018
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Guiding Star Check In: Words Matter
I recently made a change to my Guiding Star Slogan.
I started the year with this Slogan: Embrace magnificent abundance and navigate gracefully.
Six words. For me, they were powerful.
By April, this happened: Open to divine abundance.
Four words. Even more powerful.
Another morph occurred by August: Tune into divine abundance.
Still four words. Fresh and powerful.
Who cares? Me. I care. You should too.
Why? Because the words we say to ourselves matter. We hear those words and we live those words.
My original Slogan was a holdover from last year, when it worked magnificently. I was reminded to not only accept, but to also embrace all of the wonders life was giving me on a daily basis.
As 2018 has progressed, that Slogan wasn't working the same level of magnificence. So I thought about it. I discussed it with my Buddy. I pondered it while on my morning walks.
I needed to stay open. I could feel myself starting to shut down. I also needed to remind myself that abundance comes from someone or something bigger than me. In that regard, I view it as being divine. I do not have to apologize for this abundance, even though the little Midwestern girl inside of me still struggles with accepting all of the wonders I have been given in this life.
As I continued walking, I realized I was open to the abundance that surrounded me. I also realized I often let the abundance go right by. I didn't pay attention. I needed to pay attention, or, as I determined was best for me, to tune in.
So I changed my Slogan. It's powerful, it's divine, it's mine.
What's yours?
I started the year with this Slogan: Embrace magnificent abundance and navigate gracefully.
Six words. For me, they were powerful.
By April, this happened: Open to divine abundance.
Four words. Even more powerful.
Another morph occurred by August: Tune into divine abundance.
Still four words. Fresh and powerful.
 |
| Peering into the Temple of Heaven |
Who cares? Me. I care. You should too.
Why? Because the words we say to ourselves matter. We hear those words and we live those words.
My original Slogan was a holdover from last year, when it worked magnificently. I was reminded to not only accept, but to also embrace all of the wonders life was giving me on a daily basis.
As 2018 has progressed, that Slogan wasn't working the same level of magnificence. So I thought about it. I discussed it with my Buddy. I pondered it while on my morning walks.
I needed to stay open. I could feel myself starting to shut down. I also needed to remind myself that abundance comes from someone or something bigger than me. In that regard, I view it as being divine. I do not have to apologize for this abundance, even though the little Midwestern girl inside of me still struggles with accepting all of the wonders I have been given in this life.
As I continued walking, I realized I was open to the abundance that surrounded me. I also realized I often let the abundance go right by. I didn't pay attention. I needed to pay attention, or, as I determined was best for me, to tune in.
So I changed my Slogan. It's powerful, it's divine, it's mine.
What's yours?
 |
| Gazing on the Temple of Heaven |
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Yoyogi Park, Chapter 2
Her loyal dog, Kuri, right by her side.
Dark blue kimono, hair piled high.
Wearing tiny sandals, carrying a simple pole.
Here she could fish, all alone.
Here was all she needed.
Here was all she had.
Chapter 2
What photo can I take that will show the essence, the beauty, the serenity of this place?
None. There's no one photo that can capture all this place offers me.. To be here, fully present as the meditators say, meandering the paths, listening to the city locked in its prison, thriving in my kingdom of green, that is what I must do. So simple, so difficult.
I give in. I put down the phone. My healing process is well on its way. I am content to do nothing but look and see. The sky, the trees, the branches, the leaves, the bird, the precious little bird.
Nothing is particularly remarkable about this creature. No flash of brilliant color, no enticing song. Merely a precious little bird, perched on a branch close enough to be seen. She dares me to notice her. She dares me to smile at her.
And then she speaks. The little bird speaks.
I am astonished.
And then I realize the bird and I are not alone.
Another woman has also heard the bird speak.
We smile at each other and then at the bird.
We smile at each other and then at the bird.
Silent together, we watch the bird.
The moment passes. We begin to speak. Both here for work, both from very different lands. She is from Myanmar; I am from the US. Both have come here today in search of green and serenity. Both amazed at the miracle of the little bird.
The bird chatters a bit again. We are entranced.
There's not much else to say. We choose instead to experience the charm of the little bird. Together.
This moment feels exquisite. Here, in this green oasis in the center of a city, far away from both of our homes, together, all we can do is take in the moment. With a fellow traveler.
And then the bird flies away, her work done here.
If I hadn’t put down the phone, if the bird hadn't spoken, if we hadn't said hello, this moment of humanity would never have happened.
This is life.
This is life.
In case you missed it: Yoyogi Park, Chapter 1
Friday, August 17, 2018
Photo Friday Number 20
There's always hurdles. So I just keep moving, just constantly redefining myself. That's how you stay in the race.
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
My Favorite Things: Hummingbirds
Ah, the dog days of summer.
This is my time of the year. The sun lingers in the evening sky, Rita's is still open, my shoes are not on my feet, the tomatoes are coming in and the hummingbirds are in full buzz.
Did you know:
- Hummingbirds fly over the Gulf of Mexico without taking a break? That's 500 miles and over 20 hours of flying!
- Hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backwards?
- The male hummingbird is not involved in raising young, and will often find another mate after the young are hatched. Hmmm...
I'll stop now with the fun facts. There are more right here.
About six years ago, I started to notice hummers in my backyard. It is very possible that they were there before and I was oblivious. This has happened before. The oblivious part.
Anyway, Beloved got us a feeder and we opened our first hummingbird restaurant. They didn't like that feeder, but they love the one my Michigan Sister sent. So we open our restaurant annually now, mid-May to mid-September. They even buzz at the kitchen window when they're back in town.
As I've said before, a feeder, some water, some sugar, a little patience and you have yourself hours of entertainment.
I find them fascinating, the way they hum around, their wings moving unbelievably quickly. One night a few weeks ago, I saw one dance with the water from our whirligig sprinkler. As good as Broadway.
What's it like, I wonder, to be a hummingbird? What's it like to live on sugar water? Does that sugar water taste as good to a hummer as it does to me? What's it like to fly nonstop in the tiniest of bodies over the Gulf of Mexico?
Hummingbirds. This week's Favorite Thing.
Have a favorite thing that makes life easier? Tell me about it here. If I use it in a future post, I'll send you a present.
This is my time of the year. The sun lingers in the evening sky, Rita's is still open, my shoes are not on my feet, the tomatoes are coming in and the hummingbirds are in full buzz.
Did you know:
- Hummingbirds fly over the Gulf of Mexico without taking a break? That's 500 miles and over 20 hours of flying!
- Hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backwards?
- The male hummingbird is not involved in raising young, and will often find another mate after the young are hatched. Hmmm...
I'll stop now with the fun facts. There are more right here.
About six years ago, I started to notice hummers in my backyard. It is very possible that they were there before and I was oblivious. This has happened before. The oblivious part.
Anyway, Beloved got us a feeder and we opened our first hummingbird restaurant. They didn't like that feeder, but they love the one my Michigan Sister sent. So we open our restaurant annually now, mid-May to mid-September. They even buzz at the kitchen window when they're back in town.
As I've said before, a feeder, some water, some sugar, a little patience and you have yourself hours of entertainment.
I find them fascinating, the way they hum around, their wings moving unbelievably quickly. One night a few weeks ago, I saw one dance with the water from our whirligig sprinkler. As good as Broadway.
What's it like, I wonder, to be a hummingbird? What's it like to live on sugar water? Does that sugar water taste as good to a hummer as it does to me? What's it like to fly nonstop in the tiniest of bodies over the Gulf of Mexico?
Hummingbirds. This week's Favorite Thing.
Have a favorite thing that makes life easier? Tell me about it here. If I use it in a future post, I'll send you a present.
 |
| The Susquehanna. From the annual walk in the woods with my BFF. |
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Yoyogi Park, Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
Monday, November 6, 2017
I board the subway for the short ride from my hotel to Yoyogi Park. Next to the subway stop and across the street from the trendy, always energetic Harajuku section of Tokyo, the park beckons visitors to step in and succumb to the quiet green.
I walk down the wide path, acutely aware that I am entering a different sphere. I take a left down a smaller path. Here I see a bench. Here I sit. Here I breathe.
This is abnormal behavior for me. Usually I would have an agenda, a map, a mental list of all I must see and do. Usually I would walk first and sit later. But today is different. Today I stop at the first bench I see. I sit. I watch. I breathe. I settle into the green.
The irony is not lost on me that I am in Japan, the home of forest bathing (Shinrin-yoku). My intention today was not to partake in forest bathing. Yet that is what I find myself doing. Is it being in Japan that leads me to this action? Is it too many months on the road? Is it the cavalcade of exciting, yet foreign cultures? Is it working with strangers, all of us thrown together by forces out of our control? I don't know. Whatever has led me here has spoken with clarity and force. I have been drawn on this quest today by an invisible, magnetic force.
I leave the bench to begin the quest for the unknown. The first stop is obligatory, the shrine. It does little for me. I have seen too many temples, too many shrines in the past seven months.
I leave quickly, turn down a small path to the right and stumble onto the Inner Garden. Here, for the small fee of 500 yen ($5.00), is the possibility of serenity presented in green. After all the stretching and compromising of the past months, 500 yen seems a miniscule amount. I happily hand over my yen and walk down an even smaller path. The scent of cool, the color of air, the sight of wind dance around me. I recognize my investment has paid off. I have found the deepest part of the bath. The deep cleansing begins.
Joyful chattering sparrows
Warm melting energy of the sun
City clatter to my left
Luscious forest buffering the clatter
Gleeful laughter to my right
Clean serene pond
An urge to jump in
Eternally cawing crows behind me
Occasional crunch on the gravel path
Other seekers traversing the gravel path.
The same path I walk. The same path we all walk.
This is when I have my first realization: I need green. I need fresh air. I need to bathe in green, preferably alone, but not necessarily. This is what I crave, this helps me thrive. It's one trait I humbly admit I was given by my mother.
I try to lift the camera, knowing my friends will want photos. I can't. The need to completely immerse myself in this pure, fresh, clean, green experience takes over. I sit. I breathe. I listen.
The fallen leaves around my feet
Soaking in the lovely late-autumn warmth of the sun’s radiant heat
Storing the heat in my soul for the coming winter
The second realization: my body and brain have been on high alert for months. Work. New environments. New cultures. Over-stimulated as a performer, a tourist, a traveler, a woman, an American (it is the age of Trump, after all), a middle-aged human. Now I can feel myself floating back to my core. This is what living in perpetual uncertainty does to me.
I look at my watch. I left the hotel one hour and twenty-five minutes ago.
My third realization: Serenity is closer than I realize. I always expect shredding the flaky dross of life will take hours, days, weeks, so I often don't even bother to try. Time and again I am proven wrong.
Try
Don't let the sad one sway you.
Hold her hand.
Take her along.
Take her along.
Friday, August 3, 2018
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