My key words for 2016 (as recorded in my Year Compass) are “Movement. Motion. Mobilizing,” which is what I wrote in response to the request for a single word to describe what I wanted. It seemed like this was one word, but broken out into different aspects of the same forward-momentum that I am hoping to manifest in regards to my career, my physical activity, and my creative life. I feel like last year was more of a “sit still and listen” kind of time for me, which lead to a deepening of my meditation practice and decision to enter into more serious zen study. While I don’t want to let go of that, I also feel a bit of a push to explore in different ways and so far, I feel like I’m on that track:
We’ve been snowshoeing at the cabin! Something I have been aching to do since December.I have also instituted a couple of daily habits so far that are really working for me and I hope to keep them up through the year:
The idea really is to keep my activity level at a pace that is enjoyable to me without letting things slide into being overwhelming. I find this to be a tricky tension to maintain, but am bringing my attention to exactly that as I move forward towards month two (and my birthday) of 2016.
The crows outside our home in the giant beech trees were numerous and truly magnificent yesterday. Just the few photos and bit of video I shot feels like it could provide art fodder for months – and while I don’t have a lot of extra brain-space for artmaking at the moment, I am collecting bits and pieces and imagining constructions of paper, textile, text, stitch and yarn.
Something sticking with me these days is the following exchange that took place at the end of meditation retreat in November:
Student:”I have too many things going on in my life, what should I give up?”
Teacher: “You should give up the feeling that you have too many things going on in your life.
I’m riding with that. Rather than feeling overwhelmed by the “too many things” I am recognizing that my attention is focused where I want it to be right now – we give priority to what currently matters, and that the idea that we “should” be doing something different with our time (or not doing as much) is just another problematic construct. And while that is true, it is also important to sit quietly as often as possible to let the priorities filter through. And so I am busy, but I am sitting every morning. I have full days, but there are always special moments with Brian – every day – for cuddling and love affirmation. My schedule is wall to wall, but it is full of social events, learning activity, community building, and as much making-work as I can fit in (even if it’s on the margins sometimes).
So right now I am not making art, but I am making life every day – showing up in the spirit of living as much as I can.
I had a meditation teacher who likened our internal critical voice to crows. Pick, pick, pick – he said – that’s what we’re like when we judge ourselves and others. I’m taking that to heart as much as I can. Keeping the crows outside where they belong. In the trees above our house.
My days lately have been full from start to finish. Get up early, meditate, get to work, do something after work (weaving class, group meditation, date with family, refugee sponsorship meeting), bedtime story, sleep. And again, and again, and again. It’s tiring me out, but I have the desire to do all the things and so right now, that’s what’s happening. All the things, that is.
For example, on the weekend we went to the cabin with our friend Jon for snowshoeing, hanging out, and cooking on the woodstove. The photo above is of the coziness that is our unfinished cabin – which gets mighty warm with the woodstove these days, even when we’re surrounded by two feet of snow. The snowshoeing was superb, by the way, about as good as it gets with fresh snow, solidly frozen lakes to snowshoe across, and almost no other people out at the lake.

While we were up there, I started a new blanket project – something simple that I could do without thinking about it too much and that would use up a schwack of yarn that I bought for an (failed) afghan project last year. Turned out that I don’t like Tunisian crochet very much, and I’m not good enough at it to get all my squares uniform, so that was going nowhere fast. Instead I’ve taken up the Rugged Ripple pattern in standard crochet and I’ve got three inches of blanket done already (I’ve got more done since taking this progress shot on Saturday):

In addition to that, I’ve been working on my weaving a bit this week also. While this photo is a bit blurry, you can see here three different weave patterns as I’m working on a sample (a somewhat chaotic sampler because I’m just trying things out):

And in non-project news, I’ve been learning to ride a bike again. I’ll write more about that soon – but I’ve got this super-long to-do list at work and no more time for posting – because my days are full from top to bottom right now, with very little time in between.
Taken on the delta at the Reifel Bird Sanctuary, January 2016.
If meditation has taught me one thing (or started to anyhow), it’s that sitting with discomfort is possible. And more than that, it’s often desirable. When we sit with discomfort without immediately trying to rectify it, we learn more about the cause, and we stop ourselves from doing more damage in the process of trying to fix it. I think about this a lot, both when I am successful at not responding to a trigger, and when I am not. Especially when I am not.
After two (plus) years of meditating through illness, exhaustion, and occasional distress, I’ve noticed bit by bit, that it’s become easier to be uncomfortable psychically and physically in my everyday life. I don’t mind being caught out in the rain quite as much, I don’t have to scratch every itch, I don’t have to respond to every hurting thing. It makes it easier for me to imagine riding my bike to work in the winter, I don’t care so much about letting go of friendships that have gone sour. Which isn’t to say that none of these things affect me – I am no master of detachment after all! But I am a little less impacted, and when any feeling (good or bad) arises, I am able to mind the state I’m in with greater attention. Not to mention with wider perspective. Which in itself is a kind of relief – this ability to get outside of my own state a little bit and just witness it.
And speaking of meditation – is there anything more zen than a heron? I think not.
Photos taken at the Reifel Bird Sanctuary in Ladner, BC this past weekend.