Embracing What Is

Original photo by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

Before I even opened my eyes this morning, I heard what kind of day it was going to be. The sound of water sluicing the air scribbled over my internal state, obscuring any motivation to get up. Nevertheless, I drove the kids to school in the rain, telling myself a cup of Starbucks new blonde roast might brighten things, but there was a traffic jam, and the road to the ubiquitous coffee bar was clogged with cars idling in the fog. I veered off the nearest exit and headed home the back way, un-caffeinated and dissatisfied before I was even fully awake.

No matter how much coffee we down, this is often the way we spend our days--metaphorically half-asleep, allowing uncontrollable forces like the weather to set our emotional barometer; reacting to the things that don't go our way rather than choosing our actions. The Buddha said that all suffering is caused by wanting things to be different than they are, a drama that is played out over and over again to varying degrees in everyone's lives....my own included. Of course, there are countless things in life that cause legitimate grief. I'm not saying that we can choose to feel differently about them than we do. What I'm suggesting is that we can change how we deal with our feelings.

We humans spend a tremendous amount of time and energy pushing away those experiences that don't feel good, and seeking happiness from things outside of our control. It's what is behind our faulty belief that we won't be really content until we get that new house, that raise, or that person to do what we want (really, there are endless ways to fill in that blank). But true inner peace can only come when you are able to fully accept the present moment no matter how good or bad the situation may appear at first.

Once I got home, I sat in the couch in a funk, looking out the window at the streaky grey skies, and lamenting all the things that felt misaligned. Eventually, I got around to contemplating the old Carl Jung quote: "that which you resist, persists."  I considered crawling back under the covers for the rest of the day, but I knew that if I did, it would go on raining in my head, even if the sun came out. And so, instead of continuing to argue with the weather, I gave in to the "is-ness" of it.

I have long been inspired by a saying coined by meditation teacher Jack Kornfield, "After the Ecstasy, The Laundry." (it's also the title of one of his books). It has always made me remember that no matter how much yoga, meditation, or self-help work I do, I still have to learn to co-exist with the more mundane moments of life, the laundry pile of ordinary moments strung between the high points. Sparked by a friend's well-timed post on her beautiful blog (ironically?) titled Laundry Line Divine,  a site aimed at "celebrating the sacred in daily life," I put on my hiking boots and rain jacket, grabbed my camera, and went outside to be at one with the elements.

Outside, it was only me, a couple of swans, and a honking goose. As I watched the graceful birds dip their crooked necks through the misty water, I thought about how I so easily overlook the sacredness of a "regular" moment. It's so easy to twist myself out of shape, trying to make reality match up to my expectations. And when it doesn't, I can get sidetracked by my upset for a few hours, a week, or even years.  This morning,  I chose to focus on what I could do about the rain, rather than what I couldn't. Once I gave in to it, I was able to be with it in a whole new way. Suddenly the stormy weather looked very different to me. It became something to be curious about. How would it feel to take photos in the pouring rain? What kind of art could I make out of it?

Waterlogged and happy, I hiked through the mud down to the lake, where dripping branches leaned over the water. Deep in a grove hidden from the main path, I found a tree that looked like it was shedding its bark. (below). 

Original photo by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

Slowly, I too, am working on shedding those things that do not serve me. It's not easy, but I know that it's the only way to transform. The poet Danna Faulds wrote the following:

"The journey from known to unknown, from the
unreal to the real, is rarely
revealed in advance.
The potholes, detours,
false starts, and quick retreats are each honorable,
and even needed in the bigger
scheme, in the forest that can't
be seen between the trees.

It took years for me to realize
that the very twists and turns
and shadows I labeled "problems"
were really sacred ground,
grace disguised as obstacles,
the whole path a pligrimage,
mysteries baring themselves
before me all the way."

When I got back home, I made tea and listened to the wind breathing gustily through the trees. While the rain drenched the grass and melted the leftover snow, I took out my paints and transformed my original photo (at the beginning of this blog) into the following expression of the day, literally re-visioning it. (see below):

Original painted photo by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

Practicing Present Moment

Original photo by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

 You know the old question, "do you dream in color or in black and white?" My dreams are filled with not only with every color you can imagine, they're stuffed full of details, like an old drawer that you've crammed so  many odds and ends into that it no longer closes.

This morning, I was woke up with half my mind still traveling my dream, the other half racing ahead, anticipating the day to come. Before my eyes even opened, I was simultaneously diving into an undulating pink sea of glitter and tiny seed beads, an intricately embellished ocean that somehow washed people's spirit serene, and rushing into thoughts about how my afternoon might play out.

It's no wonder that I didn't want to get out of bed. Even in my sleep, I was neither here nor there. (And based on the dream I was having, I would have preferred being there). Luckily, the rest of my family was up and out early (yes, I know it's lucky I got to sleep in, too). But best of all, I have years of practicing yoga and meditation under my belt, something that has given me practical tactics to cope with an unsettled mind.

With Leonard Cohen's music playing, and yoga mat rolled out so that I could face the mountains and changeable sky, I did about 45 minutes of yoga, a good long meditation and some pranayama (breathing practice).  In spite of setting a soothing scene, it was difficult to get into it. This morning, I came to my mat with a mind as cluttered as the water in my dream, only in real life, it was rippling with the flotsam and jetsam of anxiety.  Once I was sitting in meditation I had to work not to chase my thoughts into the future or retrieve it from the past. But I've learned how to catch myself from being carried along indefinitely by unruly thoughts. When I realized what was happening, I employed some of the things I've learned about how to deal with a crowded mind.

Immediately, I pictured the words: Present Moment. Then I brought my attention to what was actually occurring right at that moment, by focusing on the different aspects of the senses, naming what it was that I felt as I went along. For example, I noticed that the breeze coming through the windows felt cool on my skin, so I focused on that sensation for several breaths until I felt more centered. I continued practicing that, sense by sense, until I had covered all the bases: sense of sight, sound, feeling, smell and hearing. By the time I was done, I felt integrated, with body, mind and spirit united together. My second awakening of the morning found me firmly in present moment, at 11 a.m. on a cool, rainy, breezy, gray Saturday, listening to Leonard Cohen and the occasional sound of car engines, smelling the lingering aroma of coffee in the autumn-tinged air.

My experience this morning reminded me that my mind is fickle. It's default position it to be all over the place. If I'm not vigilant, I can spend all day and night with my mind in an entirely different place than my body. This gap is what causes so much of my stress and anxiety, and like most other people, it can significantly affect my mood and my actions.

This plays out not only in life, but in my level of creative productivity. Left unaddressed, I can easily waste an entire day not "doing" my creative practice. But by practicing yoga and (for me, especially: meditation) I also become more efficient in my creative output.

I know I'm not the only one. It's human nature to be incredibly distracted by worries. Today on Conscious Creativity, we will be focusing on the nature of anxiety, and how it affects your daily creative life. What holds you back from being fully "you?" How hard is it for you to be in present moment?  Do you live in a fog of worry about the future? Or do you scroll back over the past, endlessly reviewing things that already happened? How does anxiety affect your own ability to create? Feel free to share the things that snag your mind and keep it rooted in the past or fearing the future. Share your tips and your practice and your creations. Let's all meet in Present Moment, and help each other become more creative for it.

How To Keep Meditation From Being a Grind

 Original photo and beadwork by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

Yesterday I was asked (in a comment) how to keep meditation from becoming yet another discipline to attend to. This is a great question. It's one that I would guess keeps a lot of people from experiencing its benefits. We're all so busy, who has the time to add on another "to do" without it becoming something you have to discipline yourself to do? I can only answer this question from a very personal perspective. The truth is, in a way, you can't. But, you can "trick" yourself to think differently about it. You have to seduce yourself to fall in love with it. Or at least, in curiousity with it. Remember the first time you fell head over heels for someone? When your love-colored glasses made even the most mundane and ordinary things seem heightened and exciting?

Like love, meditation is a vehicle for reaching a higher, intoxicated and divine state. Meditation is simply a technique, but your mind will do whatever it can to talk you out of it. That's because both cannot take up space at the same time. Your mind will always resist you, and try to capture your attention with cheap baubles.

The sages tell us that any effort made by the mind cannot take you beyond the mind. So in order to establish a meditation practice, you have to circumvent your thoughts. In my own personal experience, I've found that you do this in two ways. One, by committing to an exploration of meditation, and second, by becoming a witness to the nature of your mind.

There is a saying that "Ritual is habit made holy." Chances are, you already practice many habits before you even leave the house in the morning. You just don't notice them because they've become so engrained. Establishing a meditation practice is a matter of making a decision to do so, and then doing it. You don't argue with yourself about whether or not you should brush your teeth in the morning, do you? Like Nike says, you just do it.

In order to "just do" meditation, it helps to do so at the same time and in the same place every day as you get going. Gather those things that make you feel sacred, or at least relaxed, and put them in a designated space in your home. They'll help get you in the mood. Or just get out into nature, and let the natural elements woo you.  Just do it.

Of course, it helps to know how to do it. Don't worry about fancy instructions or even about doing it right, (another thing that mind tries to dissuade you from meditation with). Just sit and watch all those things your mind does to try to convince you to stop. Don't try to staunch your thoughts. Just witness them, And eventually, in the committed, openly curious practice of watching, you will awaken true awareness.

Over time, witnessing the mind creates more space in-between the unceasing thoughts. And in those gaps, you become more adept at making choices that will impact your life, and your physical and emotional health in very positive ways .

There's a sign that we have on our bulletin board in the kitchen: it says, "discipline is remembering what you want." So instead of thinking about meditation as a chore that you have to take on, remember what you want out of it.

And then choose to begin, over and over again.


Today, on Conscious Creativity I invite you to join me in meditating. It's something I do every day. If it's something you've been wanting to do too, today is the perfect day to start (or to start over if you've fallen behind). Let me know how you do! Bring your comments, questions, challenges, inspirations, poems, associations to the Conscious Creativity page. Let's talk about it!

Creativity: A Sacred Journey

Original photo by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

"The best of artists never makes creation
That is not hid already in the stone
In marble fixed and yet the work is done
By hand, which follows mind and meditation." Michelangelo

Have you ever heard someone say that they can't take credit for their creation, that it was as though some divine force had taken over and used them as an instrument? I'm no Michelangelo, yet I know that I've said it about things I've written or made.

Somewhere along the dual paths of meditation and creation, I realized that they were really one journey. It occurred to me that the spiritual state of mind I experienced while drawing or writing had much in common with the creative experience of being in meditation.

From the earliest days, creativity has been associated with spiritual practices. Ancient cultures understood that it was a sacred journey into the unknown, and it was believed that the objects themselves were messages from the Gods, and contained sacred --even healing--powers.

Several years ago, while I was pursuing my yoga/meditation teacher training, I learned that when it comes to the connection between the two, intuition is borne out by science. During a workshop that delved into the science of the brain of meditators, I was fascinated to learn that what I always suspected about the similarities between creativity and meditation was true. Turns out, physiologically, both meditation and creativity produce similar brainwaves--both feature an increase in alpha-wave activity. 

The more I understand the interplay between the two, the "better" I become at manifesting both in my life. But it takes a certain amount of conscious intention to empower them. I've noticed that the more I meditate, the easier it is to access the realm of inspiration, and the more creative I am, the more likely I am to meditate.

Experts say that several conditions can help facilitate such a shift, and suggest that if they are present, it's easier to access creativity. These include: being motivated by a problem that needs resolution, being physically relaxed, focusing on imagery, turning inward, being overwhelmed by emotion, and experiencing a breakdown in one's belief system.

While we all have problems that need to be solved and been overwhelmed by emotion, tapping into the other conditions isn't so easy. Here again, meditation helps by disrupting our patterned responses to life, and refocusing our attention on our inner world.

However, that isn't so easy either. In our over-busy world, meditation is often the last thing we get to, if we get to it at all. And then, when we do, we are subject to a thousand different reasons why it doesn't "work" for us. The actual process of meditation itself becomes a mystery, one that is misunderstood and avoided because of the many things we tell ourselves about why we can't do it.

Today, I invite you to join me in a week-long demystification of the practice of meditation. Bring your comments, questions, challenges, blocks and inspirations here, or to the Conscious Creativity page (don't forget to "like" it while you're there) and we'll discuss how to help you make both meditation and creativity a bigger part of your own inner world.

Finding Balance

 Finding balance: original photo by Lori Landau do not reproduce without permission

This morning when I drove my kids to school, I noticed that the trees are starting to turn. In spite of the lingering humidity and warm temperatures, the air carried a slight chill, enough to get us scrambling for sweatshirts. I actually find myself longing for slightly cooler temps, for the kind of temperate weather that isn't too hot or too cold, and I love this time of year for the changing colors of the landscape.

Tonight marks the autumn equinox. The word "equinox" was derived from Latin term "æquinoctium" which, in turn, came from "æquus" (equal), and "nox" (night). It refers to the time that occurs twice a year when the nighttime is equal to the daytime. 

An intense preoccupation of the mysterious Megalithic peoples who pre-dated Celt, Roman and Saxon on Europe's Atlantic fringe by thousands of years, the equinox generated structures such as Stonehenge and other complex architectural constructions, which were aligned specifically to determine solstices and equinoxes. (While equinox's occur when there are an equal number of hours during the day as there are at night, Solstices, mark the longest and shortest days of the year, which occur in summer and winter respectively).

This evening, just after 9 p.m., the official starting time of the equinox this year, cultures all over the world will observe the transition with a variety of rituals. Many of these celebrations honor the dynamic dualities of life, and are centered around contemplations and practices to focus on what needs greater balance in our lives.

For those of us who value both consciousness and creativity, there are several ways to use the magic of the equinox to help find your own equilibrium.

BALANCING DARKNESS WITH LIGHT: 

We tend to look at the dark as "bad," and the light as "good." The autumn equinox offers us the opportunity to contemplate the silent, nurturing energies that occur within, the less-seen qualities that govern the beginning of the creative process. In other words, fall offers us the chance to dwell on the inner harvest, where ideas needed for our soul's work and our creative growth are slowly gestated.

LETTING GO:

The falling leaves remind us that in nature, letting go is part of any cyclical process. Autumn is a time for looking at those things which no longer serve you, and releasing things them.

 

ACKNOWLEDGING IMPERMANENCE:

The falling leaves and newly bare branches are also a reminder of the impermanence of everything. By accepting the fleeting nature of things, we hone our appreciation for them. 

Writers, artists and poets have long been inspired by the symbolism of the autumn solstice. How does the symbolism of the equinox, creating balance, letting go and acknowledging impermanence factor into your creative and daily life? I invite you to join Conscious Creativity today, where we will be celebrating the autumn equinox through poems, artwork, stories and conversation. Not a member yet? Simply ask to be added in a comment (below) or look for Conscious Creativity's new public page and hit "like."

If I can let you go as trees let go
Their leaves, so casually, one by one,
If I can come to know what they do know,
That fall is the release, the consummation,
Then fear of time and the uncertain fruit
Would not distemper the great lucid skies
This strangest autumn, mellow and acute.
If I can take the dark with open eyes
And call it seasonal, not harsh or strange
(For love itself may need a time of sleep),
And, treelike, stand unmoved before the change,
Lose what I lose to keep what I can keep,
The strong root still alive under the snow,
Love will endure -- if I can let you go. 

May Sarton

 

How to Be More Creative

A recent "morning drawing" from my journal. Do not reproduce without permission.

I woke up this morning with a feeling of dread. Before I even got out of bed, my mind was racing, already contemplating the list of things I knew I had to accomplish today. You know "the list." The one that's never-ending. You no doubt have one yourself. The one that has you running in place to get an increasing amount of tasks done. The one that keeps you from doing what your soul is really calling out to do. Feeling overwhelmed by the list is not unusual for me. But for the past couple of years, I changed how I respond to my initial anxiety about it, one that has revolutionized my creative life. 

My tactic was very simple. But it required the willingness to go against the grain of a culture that stresses the value of busy-ness. It involved making a conscious choice to rebel against over-scheduling and put myself first. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I decided to be selfish, or ignore those things that absolutely must be done. What I did is a form of prioritizing, only I chose to put my creativity first. 

That means that now, while I'm drinking that first cup of coffee (okay, the second: the first I drink while I'm driving my kids to school), I do a drawing and take 20 minutes to meditate, or even just take a few breaths in nature before I get online or get to work. And, it means that on the days I have more time, I carve out a morning or an afternoon to work on a long-term creative project instead of attempting every last thing on my list. I've found that when I feed my own need, I have enough juice left over to get the most important stuff done. But it also means that I've had to learn to say  "No," at times--something we all have a very hard time doing in our 24/7 productivity-oriented environment. 

Like the rest of you, I have obligations. But I've found that choosing to put creativity in my day can work, even when I'm on the go. I just had to get, well, creative about doing it. Creativity itself inherently implies an ability to adapt, assimilate, integrate, and invent. By employing the core elements of creativity itself to break through those things that blocked me from being creative, I significantly amped up my creative output. Something as simple as bringing a journal (or a sketchbook) with me everywhere I go has made a huge difference. I've filled journal page after journal page while waiting on line to pick up my kids at school, in dr.'s waiting rooms, stuck in traffic jams, and in restaurants, before the meal comes. The bonus is that my kids have become more creative too, something that helps them remain centered in their own lives, and enhanced our interactions.

Finding ways to put my creative self first intersects with my practice in consciousness. Consciousness: being awake to what is--has to do with the nature of the mind, and particularly its capacity to experience various states of awareness. Bringing conscious awareness to how I use (or mis-use) my time, and making a conscious choice to empower my own spirit, has made me a lot happier--and a lot more creatively "productive."

 
I hope this helps you be more creative too. Join me on the Conscious Creativity page and tell me how it works for you.

Making a Conscious Choice to Forgive

 (original photo by Lori Landau: do not reproduce without permission)

 Last night I went to see an incredible new indie film called Kinyawanda, a profoundly moving piece conceived and produced by Rwandans. The movie is a compelling rendering of the 1994 genocide told through six interwoven stories. Frankly, I expected to have my eyes covered for half the movie. When it comes to violence--especially the visual depiction of it, I'm very self-protective. But (full disclosure) I know Alrick Brown, the gentle and fiercely intelligent soul who wrote and directed Kinyawanda, and I wanted to show up for him.
Instead of cowering in my seat, I was at the edge of it. The movie brilliantly lets the viewers imagination fill in the blanks with the actual violence, choosing instead to illuminate the moments leading up to it. This intriguing choice on the part of the director puts the emphasis on the complex dynamics that create violence in the first place, and turns the common victim/perpetrator narrative on its head in the process.
I'm being as neutral as I can be (since I know Alrick) when I say that everyone should have to see this movie. That's because it suggests a new paradigm for responding to violence. I was particularly struck by something that was said during the Q & A after the movie. Alrick, who humbly said that when it comes to his own life, he is flawed, and is working on himself every day (aren't we all)? talked about his fierce belief that forgiveness is an active decision....and it's one we do not learn in our culture. He illustrated the many ways our society reinforces the idea of vengeance--for example, if you go to a movie where someone is killed in the beginning, you expect someone else to spend the entire movie training themselves to hunt down the perpetrator and kill them back. This leaves no room whatsoever for true redemption or compassion. And, Alrick suggested that while it is hard work, forgiveness is sweet because it heals.
It made me think about my own personal relationship to forgiveness. Like Alrick (and the Rwandans for that matter) I vigilantly work on this in my own life. That's because like most of us, I have an incredible ability to be reactive to perceived (and real) "injuries," something that has served only to exacerbate upsets and misunderstandings. But because of my meditation practice, I actively work on shifting my own responses so that I create more peace within myself, my family, and ultimately, the community. I draw heavily on Eastern philosophies which suggest that forgiveness is a practice that prevents harmful thoughts from causing havoc on one's own mental well-being.  My attempts to put this into practice has helped me learn that the responses I choose in reaction to someone who has wronged me makes a huge difference in what happens next.
Here's just one small "trick" I employ when I want to lash out (or retreat) in righteous anger: I remind myself of Buddha's words: "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned."
Kinyarwanda depicts an extreme example of how the hot coals of human emotion can be used to perpetuate hatred, yet it ultimately serves as an inspiration, showing that by forgiving someone who hurt you, you heal yourself and those around you too.
When we left the movie, we were handed a postcard and asked to send it to someone we loved or needed to forgive. Such a simple, small task.  Yet so difficult. Write "I forgive you," on a postcard and put it in the mail. What if we all did that? How would the world change? I invite you to join me in contemplating that today. Join me on my Conscious Creativity FB page where we will be focusing on the theme of forgiveness. I want to know how you experience forgiveness (or lack thereof) in your own life. Be a part of the conversation and in doing so, make a choice to help heal our broken world.