Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
Post #3149: Radiant light
I spent the weekend at a meditation/study retreat in the city on the topic of Dogen’s Radiant Light – though I didn’t feel radiant or light, bogged down with a cold as I was. In fact, I was *that* person in the zendo. The sniffling, sneezing one. The one that everyone is secretly hating because what if she’s still contagious? But there you go. It was bound to happen at some point in my spiritual life that I would be the thorn in the side of my sangha. I’m sure it will happen more than once in this life of mine.
For the record, I was on the other side of my symptoms, as bad as they sounded – so I had pretty good reason to believe I wasn’t contagious. It’s just hard to convince others of that when you still sound congested.
I had wanted to go to this retreat specifically because my word of the year is “Radiant” and it seemed somehow essential that I engage in some study of the related zen text. A big takeaway from the reading for me had to do with the intimacy we must bring to our practice in order to realize the “light” of all things including ourselves.
“Make sure to endeavor in the practice of the buddha way. Those who practice should not be alienated or distant. Even so, there have been few practitioners of the way who have mastered this radiant light.”
This clearly holds true for more than Zen practice – only by practicing intimacy in relation to the world can we fully know it, and ourselves fully in return.
Though this wasn’t my intention when I chose the word Radiant, I see how anchoring my actions in such an intention has propelled me into greater intimacy. With the goal of putting myself out there (extending in all directions) I have: started a newsletter featuring personal essays, accepted the help of a friend in editing my writing, signed up for monthly “follow through” workshops supporting my creative practice, gotten to know a textile artist I admire, asked my zen teacher for a specific program of study, and offered myself more freely to my family in a time of need than I might have otherwise. Even the act of daily yoga (since January 1st) is a form of engagement with the body that demands intimacy with the self. Each of these things has required that I acknowledge my feelings and fear of rejection – and expose them to others.
It’s been unexpected, a bit freaky – and a lot energizing. So I’m going to stick with it. Coming out of this weekend though, I’m going to meditate a bit more on this intimacy and the light that comes forth from it – and hope it further informs the work I’m putting out in the world in 2019.
Post #3148: The small and the scrappy
I think sewing with scraps week has already come and gone for 2019, but for some reason I’ve been quite captivated with scrap and fat quarter sewing recently. It started with sewing zip pouches out of vintage Japanese fabrics a few weeks ago:
Since then I’ve been rooting through my scrap drawers to make more useful things:
All of these treasures are now at work in my studio and home, and I’ve started on a couple more gift projects for my three-year-old niece in New York. I am greatly enjoying the process of turning various scrap pieces into useful things – though my studio had become a bit messy with all the rooting around.
Since I have guests coming tomorrow I had to tidy the studio today, and part of that process involved turning my very messy scrap stash from this:
Into this:
Cleaning out the scrap drawers and bins gave me a chance to look at everything – iron, fold, and sort it into piles based on size. My goal was to sort, not to get rid of – and so even the smallest shreds found their way into a plastic bag to be used for stuffing pillows or other small objects. The bins under the table are full of garment scraps – denim and linen in the top basket, stretch fabric (for making underwear) in the rubbermaid tote. I’ve still got work to do on finishing this job as I stuffed two smaller bins with odd shaped scraps that I would like to cut into squares and strips. That’s not really a priority now though as I have things organized in a way that makes it easy to root through (and make a mess), while also being an easy clean up.
I think the scraps are calling me because garment-making feels too big at the moment – zip bags and totes are so much more accessible – though if I’m not careful the scrap obsession could turn into another quilt!
Post #3147: This quieter life
We’ve finally got some snow on the west coast, which means it’s officially our one week of winter. We got a few inches last night, with more on the way today and tomorrow. There is very little moving around in my neighbourhood at the moment – I can’t even say that I’ve seen a single car go by since I started working a couple of hours ago. People here rarely invest in winter tires, so it’s really just for the best they stay home for the limited time we endure slippery roads. Lucky me, I work from home so I don’t have to go anywhere.
The quiet of the snow has me reflecting on the “boring” nature of our life here on Gabriola. Looking at the Facebook feeds of people I know, I’m struck by how frenetic some lives seem to be. I know people who routinely work fourteen hours days, take trips every other month, or who participate in competitive sport to the degree it takes up most of their time. I have friends who are travel writers, international facilitators, who provide executive services to politicians, and who are actually elected officials (provincial, municipal, and union).
In fact, it often seems like everyone out there is doing something more *meaningful* while I am just here at my desk working on strategic plans and looking out at the snow. I wonder at times if I’ve wasted the great currency of my privilege and education by checking out of the race and moving away from the city.
But then I remember my life when I was “in demand” for union and work positions – when I spent half my month on the road and was in a permanent state of exhaustion, when I was caught up in a false sense of importance, and when I was subject to all sorts of gossip and nasty politics because of my role (and boy, did I drink and cry a lot back then). While I’m sure I could have handled things better – I also know that the union movement (and political movements more generally) is no good behaviour picnic. A large part of what creates the illusion of “meaning” is the heightened emotional drama created by the participants.
I suppose also that because my life doesn’t have that emotional edge, I tend to downplay the activities I am engaged in – president of my union local, working full time, maker, writer, musician – as *not important*. You know – a sensible and manageable life just doesn’t hold any of the drama as one that is teetering on the brink all the time.
Now, I’m not suggesting that every person with a an in-demand life is on the verge of falling apart. I’m hardly a paragon of doing nothing. But my own reaction to these statuses makes me question why I ascribe meaning to one kind of life, one that is high pressure and leaves little room for oneself – while discounting my own experience (rich by any standards) as having *less* meaning. As far as I can tell – it’s the mind-trick of consumer-capitalism at work again. Or else it’s just a discounting of my own experience.
Either way, I will acknowledge my gratitude at the fact that during this snowy day, I do not have to run around doing a thousand things – but am in my quiet home office finishing off a planning document and thinking about what time I should take a yoga break. That’s really not so bad.
Post #3146: What am I doing here anyway?
I started this blog almost 15 years ago (May is my blogiversary) with the express intention of documenting the signs of environmental apocalypse that were apparent to me, as a communicator in a resource management field, but not really being framed in such a way by the mainstream media. If only I had kept to that theme I might now have a well-read blog, as the topic of apocalypse is so all the rage these days!
But instead, this became more of a personal space, though I have continued to write about environmental catastrophe and nature, I have also morphed out into other areas like sewing and knitting (and recipes!). I have a very small readership, as is the case with personal blogs like this one – but I do hear from those of you who read it that you enjoy it very much – and I am grateful for that! I don’t need a big audience, but I do like to know that I have a few listeners.
Last year I changed my tag line from “More apocalypse, less angst” to “Zen and fibre arts on Gabriola Island” because I wanted to reflect that I was moving away from one thing and towards another. I didn’t define that transition very well, and frankly, that move has always felt inauthentic. I think I wanted to make this blog space “friendlier” for the fibre arts community in order to increase my audience – but to what end I’m not exactly sure.
In any case, it seems to me there are two very different purposes at work here – one of them being Red Cedar, and the other being Birdsong Textiles. I’m not sure exactly what to do about that, but I do know that I’m doing neither particularly well at the moment. I also recognize that I don’t have all the time in the world for blogging, so two blogs might be a mistake.
At the very least I am re-engaging my tag line, because that’s always felt the most “me” about this blog through all the many years I’ve had it, and I am going to give some thinking to the content in the meantime. I know, it’s such a silly thing – the tag line – but I’ve always loved it and it is a real description of how I feel about this world.
What other changes will come I am still thinking about, but that for today is enough. I want to be really who I am online, and I’m not interested in monetizing anything that I do so “friendliness” isn’t something I have to worry about particularly. Still and all, one wants readers!
Post #3145: Sometimes it’s a struggle to show up
I overslept my alarm by an hour this morning – which is so unusual for me that I could hardly believe it when I woke up late for work. Fortunately, I work at home so it was quick business to get the coffee made and be sitting upright at my desk – but really! So unlike me.
I’ve had a bit of insomnia in the last week though, and last night was the first time I’ve slept straight through in awhile. I suppose my body was taking advantage while it could. Now I’m just feeling somewhat scattered as I unsuccessfully try to wrap my head around my work. I’ve got a number of big projects that I’m responsible for suddenly and I’m having a hard time getting started.
I’m still doing the daily yoga practice I set out at the start of this month. Today is day 22 and involved side planks. I really hate side planks – even more than downward dog – so it was a bit of a struggle to get into and hold the poses. However, like meditation, I see how this practice unfolds differently when you do it every single day – as opposed to just once or twice a week. The shifts are subtle yet continuous, and simply getting out the mat (or meditation cushion) every day is its own reminder of how we “show up” more generally in the world.
I have a number of projects half-way on the go in the studio at the moment, but I have a ton of momentum with anything (except for making a mess – this place needs a tidy). I’ve got a real desire to get a couple new garments underway, but am also consciously trying to do some small “art” pieces – plus I’m launching the Comfort for the Apocalypse newsletter later this week which has put a bit of a focus on writing instead of other creative work.
Basically, I’m back to being a bit short of time for everything I want to get done – which is my normal state of affairs and I’m learning to just ride that feeling rather than get overwhelmed by it. To be inspired, invited places, and interested in so much of the world is something I am grateful for – the question really is how to be fully present with each thing and so let go of the tug onward.
Red Cedar 