Summer bliss waves and creative fireworks

Crater Lake and the Milky Way: Photo by Tiffany Nguyen

                                                                                                                                                                            
Monday, July 6th. The 80th birthday of HH the Dalai Lama.  I celebrate his beautiful presence in this world. He is a being who inspires love in countless people, no matter their religion. What a pristine example of what a human being can be. What an outstanding elder, statesman, pacifist, living Buddhism so fully, so present, so open. I bow to him and thank him. Year after year, I continue to learn from him, no matter where he is, no matter who he is with, always the radiance, the love. It is wonderful.



Oregon is a very beautiful place, and the photo of Crater Lake above shows it in all its glory. The sky these summer nights is utterly marvelous.  I continue to be astounded by its beauty.
 
  
The Healing Waters of Jackson Wellsprings 

If I am at all fortunate tomorrow, I will make my way to Jackson Wellsprings, which to me is one of the best things about Ashland, Oregon.




This is the pool itself. Usually I head there around 9 or 10 when it is quite unpopulated. I love the quiet, the sky, the birds, clouds and of course, the healing waters, a mix of mineral spring water with well water in the big pool.

Here is a statue of Ganesh that sits at the head of the swimming pool there. And the photo below shows one small part of the gardens that sit behind the pool area.

Gardens behind the pool area

A story from long, long ago

I love this photo of Swami Satchidananda sitting with a tiger. Swami Sachidananda was the first holy man I ever saw. I was living in NYC in the 60s and working for Conrad Rooks, who had just made a film called Chappaqua. Rooks was hosting a huge party in a nightclub to celebrate the opening of the film. Satchidananda was in the film and made an appearance at the party. As I wrote in my book Songs of the Inner Life,

"...a man dressed in a long saffron robe walked into the room, walking slowly and gracefully. His long silver-gray hair spread over his shoulders and his long silver-gray beard flowed down over the front of his saffron colored robe. I don't think he looked directly at me as he passed, but I remember his dark, peaceful eyes. I had never seen eyes like those on a living person. The most remarkable thing about him was a golden light that seemed to radiate from his entire body."

Yes, that is something one does not see every day, more's the pity.....

Meanwhile in the laboratory.....
Our new online course on life review, Into the Mystery, has begun and will run through the month of July. Now I am working on developing a one-woman show, which I plan to call Bolder and Wiser....It will include some of the songs from our musical revue A New Wrinkle...Stay tuned....hope all is well with you in this gorgeous time of year.

The Artist's Life: Wearing a Bold Headdress

One of the things I love to do most is to lie on the grass and look up at the sky. Everything immediately slows down. Concerns, thoughts, feelings--it all relaxes in the face of that vast openness. During the day, I can count on the processional of clouds and at night the constellations of stars to align me with the beauty and pulse of nature.

It's too cold for prolonged skygazing these days as we head toward the winter solstice so brief sky glimpses must suffice for now. Very early this morning, while the world was still cloaked in darkness, I went out to take a look out at the dome of heaven. A moment after I stepped out onto the deck, a brilliant shooting star curved across the dark sky.

What a marvelous start to the new day. A new day. Each day seems quite a blessing to me. I enjoyed some coffee, did some meditation and then turned my attention to my To Do List.

I have a few big items on it. I'm planning to run a crowdfunding campaign through IndieGoGo and have to make a short video to introduce that. Have to develop the concept, write the script, plan the shots.

I'm searching for a keyboard musician who has a recording studio in order to record an instrumental soundtrack for 8 songs in A New Wrinkle.

I'm sending out letters and copies of our preview CD for A New Wrinkle to some folks in media and the field of aging as part of the effort to introduce people to the project, stimulate interest and get some of the songs from the revue played on the radio.

I'm preparing for some photo shoots in January with photographer Helga Motley. The resulting images will be used in A New Wrinkle's promotional materials. I am having fun imagining the costumes, poses and people needed to make this a reality.

In the midst of cooking this creative soup, I've been thinking of creating a headdress that says BOLD with the OLD a different color from the B.

What would you do wearing that, walk around on the street? my business consultant Gary Einhorn asks. I can't tell what he is thinking. Yes, of course I would I tell him.

But I know that if I am wearing a BOLD headdress, the experience will start to assume a life of its own. It will involve more than walking around on the street, though that is certainly interesting to consider in itself. By the time I finish imagining and creating the BOLD headdress, I will know a lot more about the persona(s) who want to be seen and heard while I wear the headdress. I'll know more about how to present the BOLD elder story.

I have to admit that I'm not 100% gung ho about this idea of the BOLD headdress, the way a successful movie star is when she has just signed a fabulous contract for what looks like a sure-fire movie. Because first of all I am not a successful movie star. I am a 70 year old non-celebrity writer/Buddhist/creative aging artist and activist. Sure I have the gift of an imagination that likes to run wild, and certainly I have some chutzpah and curiosity, but still.

Not only that but doing the BOLD thing out among the populace is not like signing a contract for a sure-fire movie. There's no contract. Instead it means stepping into unexplored and sometimes highly charged territory--the landscape of growing old, a place that many people fear, deny or find quite uncomfortable. It's not at all certain this will be a box office hit or what it will be.

Yes, sometimes I think what are you dreaming that up for? Yet I do notice how it perks me up to imagine stepping into the adventure of wearing a BOLD headdress.

What would it look like? Would it have jewels, sequins, feathers, veils, brocade, dried grass, seaweed or what?

I did a little research into headdresses and found some that I really liked, including these exquisite ceremonial headdresses from different cultures.







I love the pom poms on this one and the mirror up top center.






Wearing a headdress is like walking through some kind of doorway.



When you put on a headdress you are no longer operating in the confines of the mundane world. You have entered the surprising and more dreamlike world of theater, ritual and magic.

That is certainly one of the things that draws me to daydream about creating the BOLD headdress.

It's afternoon and I am making some sketches of possible headdresses just for fun. I am imagining what materials I might use to fashion one. That is as far as I have progressed. I have no idea whether I will get to this or when. The other items on my To Do List are making noises, talking to me about why I need to finish them first.

I am going to sign off for now. I'm cooking some wild mushroom soup and making some Italian swiss chard patties (there is probably a wonderful Italian name for this recipe, which I learned long ago from the mother-in-law of my first marriage). A few friends are coming over for some poetry and a potluck sharing of food....I'm looking forward to hearing and uttering some poetry tonight. And I know the food will be wonderful too.

Solstice blessings to you.

"Fortune befriends the bold." -Emily Dickinson

"Freedom lies in being bold." -Robert Frost

“Whatever you do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius and power and magic in it.”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

In Medias Res

In medias res is a Latin phrase that means "into the middle of things." The story begins in the middle or towards the end, with flashbacks.

The phrase came to me this morning as I woke, which was a pleasant change from waking with the music of Baba Yaga's Raga or Sex after Sixty going full tilt boogie in my mind as they have been each morning for over two weeks. I suppose they will fade back one day soon, or at least that is my hope, much as I enjoy those two songs of mine. Having songs you've written greet you that way as soon as you wake is a bit like having your kids wake you up by jumping around on the bed.

Jack Leishman's photo--"The View from Grouse Gap on Mt. Ashland"

Well, I couldn't wait until winter to re-read Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward Angel, as I said I would in a recent post. I went to the library immediately and took the book home. I can see why I loved it so much when I was 17. Decades later, I am weary of contemplating grotesque families seen through the eyes of a sensitive misunderstood artistic genius. I confess I skipped parts of the story. It may be great writing but it just doesn't captivate me the way it did.

Instead, I content myself with reading Jane Kenyon's Collected Poems. She suffered from depression but had a very happy marriage. Her poems are wonderful. There are so many of her poems I love. Like this one.


Otherwise


I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.


I much admire anyone who can take wonderful photographs. I have not mastered that art myself. I love Jack Leishman's images of our regional landscapes. Jack was kind enough to allow me to include a few of his photos here. These two are taken at Crater Lake, one of the most magical places in Oregon.



May you find such beauty in your home ground.

The Ravages of Time: Taking Things at Face Value

When my daughter Sophia and I got together for brunch to celebrate my 70th birthday, she gave me a birthday card which bore this image of an old native American woman.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Sophia asked as I gazed at the photo. "Yes, she is," I replied. I certainly am very glad I have a daughter who has a capacity not only to see beauty in a diverse way but also to appreciate the beauty of the aged. The beauty of the woman in the photo has much to do with her innate dignity, her character and the life she lived, which from the looks of her eyes, had its share of sorrow. Her face is not what most people would call beautiful, affected as many of us are by commercialized, homogenized ideas of beauty. Her beauty points up the ravages of time, how life imprints itself on us, on our faces and bodies. It invites an exploration of what's more than skin deep. The photo was taken by Milton Rogovin,well-known as a social documentary photographer.
Rogovin passed away in January 2011 at 101 years of age. He took wonderful photos of minorities and poor, overlooked people--including native Americans, Mexicans, Chileans, working class people in Buffalo, NY, miners in Appalachia, Scotland and France--and more. His work over decades illuminates social issues and the common struggle of the working poor. Beautiful work. Well worth contemplating.

I posted this photo of the beautiful 82-year old British model Daphne Selfe on Facebook the other day. Selfe is in high demand these days. Her career was so-so until she hit her 70s. Then she appeared in Red or Dead, a show put on by London Fashion Week, and it's been uphill for her career ever since. She claims her long grey hair is the secret behind it, but I think her cheekbones and eyes and lithe body are doing their share, too. Selfe does yoga to keep fit, eats large amounts of fruits, vegetables and fish, drinks plenty of water and says she doesn’t feel a day over 60. She has never had cosmetic surgery.

"Your face is your history," she commented. "If you have a few lines, it's your life that you've lived, and people should embrace that. Some [models] want to alter themselves and I hear talk about getting all this wretched cosmetic surgery done, but I don't want to do that myself as it costs too much, it might go wrong and what's the point? It won't stop you from getting old."

I celebrate her beauty, health and her late-life success. Of course, though each of us has unique, innate beauty, few of us were ever as "classically" beautiful as the lovely Daphne Selfe. The rest of us, women and men both, are challenged to come to terms with the ravages of time on our less than super-model faces and bodies. Older women are especially ridiculed, and older men have to bear the brunt of a great deal of scorn, too. Let's do what we can to expect and create a more generous definition of beauty, including the beauty of the aged. Please don't internalize these toxic prejudices about age being ugly. It's not good for the health of the body or soul.

Our culture applauds "active aging." Sometimes this lifestyle seems so hyped up I call it hyper-active aging. It's trendy to spotlight elders who are doing extraordinary work in their later lives, ignoring everyone else who don't fit these high-visibility standards. The overall presumption is--how amazing that these older people are still able to do this or that.

In this Sage's Play blog, I also spotlight exceptional elders, in the spirit of sharing wonderful models of aging. Do I sometimes seem like a cheerleader who focuses only on the positive aspects of aging and the creative, artistic, social and scientific accomplishments of elders, without ever stopping to mention the obvious?

The obvious is that our bodies are aging. We are mortal; we will die at some point. As Rain pointed out in a recent exchange of comments on this blog, we have to do the best with what we have. That's true at any time of life, and it is more obvious as we age. We have to pay more attention to diet, exercise and rest. We have to shepherd our energies each day. We may have to deal with illness or pain or loss. Age involves a fair amount of loss. On that level, growing old is not for sissies. There is a lot of demanding emotional and spiritual work that is part of the aging process. And it is all practice for "laying down one's mantle" as they say in gospel songs.

I've been a Buddhist for over 30 years, and my spiritual practice has included contemplating old age, sickness and death. Not popular subjects for many in our culture. To me, they seem like essential topics, especially as one ages.

Age is a time of life for going deeper, for stripping away, for letting go, for loving even more than ever, for sharing the bounty of what we've learned, for leaving a legacy. It's a profound territory, and it demands courage, creativity and trust. Solitude. Slowness. In the midst of my creative work, I make time for meditation, exercise, prayer rest and just doing-nothing. Here's to the blessing of living long. As Rain points out it is a mixed blessing. It's not all a bed of roses. Parts of aging are full of tribulation. And it's up to us to meet life open-hearted, to work our soul alchemy with whatever arises.

The Call to Creativity

I used to say that Rolling Stones drummer Keith Richards looked as if he was preserved in colorless nail polish-- but really that description relates more to Cher, whose beauty has remained delightfully smooth and wrinkle-free thanks I am guessing to a fair amount of cosmetic attention. Whereas Keith Richards' years show on his deeply lined face. Richards' just-published autobiography has been attracting media attention, and Cher's role in the movie Burlesque has, too. But of course one does not have to be famous to continue to be creative in later life.

Creativity is a wonderful asset at any age; it provides a meaningful, passionate way to enjoy and engage. The older I get, the more true that seems to me. I have two big projects I want to finish. My involvement with them enriches my life. I have written about my musical revue on aging A New Wrinkle here over the past year. I am also working on Songs of the Inner Life, a book which I began when I was in my mid 50s. I have written several drafts. I wasn't ready to finish it all the intervening years, but now I feel mature enough, and want to complete the book by 2012.

These two projects are very different. The musical revue is full of social commentary that is funny and sometimes scathing. It focuses on the value of aging as a stage of life and presents a more full, accurate view of the later years than our current anti-aging social perspectives allow. The book is much more reflective, exploring peak experiences, dark nights of the soul and persistent life lessons and patterns-- the life of imagination and spirit over time. Both projects are very exciting to me. I love working on them; the experience of bringing them to completion is quite thrilling, as it engages me not only with the solitary work of creating, but also with collaborating, meeting a steady stream of new people, and learning new skills.

It seems wise to me to continue to dream big, or if one never has dreamed big, to pull out the stops and go for it. What is there to lose?

I have a friend who is a dancer and she is holding a 70th birthday party tonight in our downtown community center. A vividly spiritual person who really comes from her heart, she teaches 4-5 classes a week, leads a dance company that offers regular concerts and does ongoing weekend seminars, too. Her engagement with her creative process and everyone she meets continues to be very alive. Her aliveness inspires us all.

The current blog post of IAHSA, the Global Aging Network, had a wonderful report on some older singers, one of them Chavela Vargas. "At 91 years old, Chavela Vargas, a well-known Costa Rican singer, continues to have a thriving music career. Vargas rose to prominence in the 1970′s as a singer of Mexican rancheras, boleros and corridos. These songs are like miniature operas, with over-the-top expressions of tragedy, heartbreak and redemption. For many, her interpretations of these songs are the versions that best define the power of these pieces." What a rich and powerful presence she is in this film clip.



As Gene Cohen wrote in his terrific book The Creative Age, creativity can have a Big C or a little c. The call to creativity embraces the whole spectrum, whether it's making jam, painting a room, writing a poem, praying or creating a pottery bowl. Creativity means opening our senses to the present moment. It gives us the opportunity to climb out of any boxes we may be habitually sitting in and simply play. Play and creativity involve spontaneity, letting go, being seen (to ourselves and others too), pleasure and enjoyment, a delightful bath in the immediacy of the moment. What calls you to creativity?

Wishing you a happy Thanksgiving time. There is so much I am thankful for.