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.

Creative Aging and the Flowering of the Inner Life

Our annual fall retreat at Tashi Choling Center for Buddhist Studies ended yesterday with a big tsok (blessed food) feast. What a blissful, happy, delightful time of spiritual practice this retreat has been. My spiritual teacher is now 86, and our time together is even more precious than ever. I found it difficult to leave, even after I changed gears by helping to clean and re-organize the temple shrine room, which needed it after a week of retreat practices three times a day, and even after Sarah and I swept and mopped the floor of our adjacent East Wing, which is our more social gathering place with a kitchen, dining room and bookstore.

I sat outside with a few lingering friends and watched the processional of deer. We have a congregation of deer it seems, in the meadows and hills, and all around the temple. They are safe from hunters here. I'm so accustomed to the trusting way the deer move around near the temple that when visitors show up and exclaim about it, it startles me. I finally got into my car and drove down to the Mandala Garden to circumnambulate the big Vajrasattva statue and contemplate returning to my so-called ordinary life. The top photo shows the Mandala Garden, and the temple is on the hill above it.

In the Mandala Garden I met my old friend Lama Bruce, an unassuming guy who is also a very good meditation teacher, partly because he has spent most of his adult life in meditation practice and retreat. Bruce was leading a tour for folks at Mountain Meadows, a continuing care retirement community in Ashland. They all departed after awhile, and I circled the statue and turned the prayer wheels by myself, while the clouds formed marvelous patterns across the sky and the tiny finches enjoyed the seeds in a nearby bird feeder. I could have stayed there for hours longer, but finally I got in my car and drove to town, reminding myself that integrating spiritual practice into everyday awareness and life is what it's all about because we sit on our cushions for only part of the day, but we are in our minds 24/7.

As I grow older, the inner life of spirit and imagination fills more and more of my experience. I remember reading an article by Jane Thibault titled Aging as a Natural Monastery. In the article Thibault points out how aging simplifies one's experience. "It was as if life had been stripped down to its barest essentials, so that the real could shine through and be appreciated, even if the real involved pain and suffering...In a very real sense the experience of old age, especially frail elderhood, is an experience of living monastically. Solitary life in one’s own home or common life in a nursing home is an experience of winnowing, of paring down to the barest essentials."

My own immersion in the natural monastery of aging has not reached that stage yet, but it will. Meanwhile, my natural monastery has more activity, in the midst of which beautiful gardens of solitude and contemplation bloom. I love being in those gardens. Being, simply being. Breathing. Remembering, recalling the pristine nature.

Last evening I attended a marvelous poetry concert by Kim Rosen author of Saved by a Poem. a gorgeous book which I highly recommend if you have any interest in heightened awareness and the transformative power of words and poetry. Her performance was thrilling as she shared poetry of many poets, along with beautiful mostly cello music. I couldn't take her workshop because I am doing a solo performance tomorrow, but I look forward to connecting with her more sometime soon.

Yes, my house concert In the Presence of the Sacred happens tomorrow at my old friends Rochelle and Rob Jaffe's home. I chose the beautiful image of an angel for the poster we created for the event. The image is taken from a Giotto fresco. I love its freshness and immediacy. Tomorrow I will be sharing healing voice in the form of wordless improvisational song and will also be offering hymns and prayers of St. Francis, Milarepa, Lorca, the Tibetan siddhi Gotsampa and others. I set some of the pieces to music myself. Some have traditional melodies, and some arrived with composed melodies when I discovered them.

All of my solo performances have at their heart a call to adventure, and that adventure is being in the presence of the sacred--opening up into an exalted, consecrated way of being or state of mind. But this performance is especially so, because of the nature of the hymns and prayers in it. I am looking forward to tomorrow, to sharing with the particular mandala field of energy vibration that is attracted to take part (also known as the audience). I also look forward to the opportunity to share this particular sacred constellation more with further audiences in other venues. So if you find the notion of sponsoring this work interesting, email or call me.

Oh, the photo in the center is a pathway in Lithia Park, where I often love to walk.

Jumping for Joy: Child's Play and Exuberant Aging

Today is International Childrens' Day. Where is this celebrated? I never have heard of it. But children are so worthy of celebration and care, every single day. Every one of us was a child once. What do you recall about your childhood? The things I remember with the most joy are picking blackberries with my mother and brother out in the country, lying on the beach in the sand and playing in the ocean, and walking in the fields near my aunt and uncle's dairy farm.

In ordinary life, it seemed to me that adults often paid very little attention, being weighed down by their various concerns and responsibilities. There was one adult who was different. We kids called her The Beauty Lady. When she walked down the street, she always seemed so happy. As she passed us in our play, she paid attention to each of us. None of us was accustomed to getting that level of attention often. She made us feel as if we were special, as if our world was thoroughly engaging.

Yesterday I was out in our small yard potting some flowering plants and heard two children on the other side of the fence. I'm sure they were looking at me through the fence slats. Then there came a friendly "Hello, we see you." "Yes," I responded, "that's because I'm here." "We found some pretty things on the ground," said a little boy's voice. We want to give them to you."

"Well that's nice of you," said I. And then I saw the fellow's hand and arm coming through a hole in the bottom of the fence. "Look, here they are. Aren't they pretty?" They were lovely-- small smooth ovals of glass, some clear white and others pale blue. "They are very pretty and I will put them in among my flowers," I said to the young chap.

"Look, here I am," he said as his head and shoulders appeared at the top of the fence. "Oh, look at you. You climbed up." He was totally dear. I never got to see his much quieter sister. And soon some other adult was shooing them away. "Get back where you belong," she said, constraining their enjoyment in a way that I remember well from my own childhood.

Children deserve celebration, love, and a world that supports the emergence of their unique gifts. They deserve a world that recognizes and appreciates their beauty and allows them to bloom and ripen fully. A Russian girl is jumping for joy in the photo that ornaments this post. May children jump for joy, and in their jumping bring joy to others.

I am still hobbling along mending my fractured foot bones. Even though I am not jumping for joy physically, I feel exuberant. Exuberant, a word whose roots mean abundant, fruitful, unrestrained. I am invisibly jumping for joy. Why? First, being alive. Then the blessing of passionate creative engagement. Piercing beauty everywhere. The transitory, finite nature of everything. And all this gives me a rather no holds barred style these days.

The other evening, I performed characters, songs and scenes from my musical play A New Wrinkle for a packed room. My collaborator composer Laura Rich presented with me. She sang Sex after 60 and Why My Grandma Belongs in the Elder Hall of Fame. I sang Hip Hop Elder's Rant and Baba Yaga's Raga and shared the lyrics to Are You Gonna Take it with You to the Grave? It was invigorating. I am looking forward to doing more performance events. So far, I have three scheduled, all in Ashland.

Performing is something I really love. I also love writing very much, but it is so solitary. Singing, chanting and storytelling is so different. Performance engages something very different in me. There is a wonderful energetic exchange that happens with the audience, too. I learn a lot from that. I know that performing is something I am meant to do at this time in my life and I'll write more about it as my performance schedule develops.

I feel fortunate to have the opportunity to do what I love. What makes you exuberant? What makes you jump for joy?

Portrait of the Artist at 69: The Happy Hobbler's Story

Yes, I am now hobbling without a wheelchair or walker. This is the 8th day. Someday I will be able to take a real walk or even a hike egads, but for now the marvel of being able to carry a cup of coffee upstairs or to carry a bag of groceries to the car is my celebration.

I had an appointment with Gary Einhorn, my business consultant at the Small Business Development Center yesterday. I've been acquainted with Gary for over 20 years. I started consulting with him in January when I realized I needed more support and business expertise in order to womanifest my dreams. Our 1-hour appointments are great fun. He reads the minutes from our last meeting and then I recite the litany of my current efforts, usually with many addendums and diversions. We have spirited conversations about art, people and growing a business venture.

I report that I'm getting ready to do an evening of characters, songs and scenes from my musical play on aging A New Wrinkle at Peggy Rubin's. (That's tonight!) My collaborator Laura Rich will present with me. She's bringing a drum and a guitar. We've never performed or presented material from the play together before.

Do I know who is coming? Well, the attendees from the
Center for Sacred Theatre workshop will be there for sure, and I hope playwright Dori Appel comes, and poet Robert McDowell, and dancer Robin Bryant who is supposed to be arriving with Julie McDiarmid, board president of the Arts Council of Southern Oregon. Angie Thusias, my old friend who invented Kentro Body Balance, has said she's coming. Otherwise, I have no clue. Gary says he thinks he will attend. That will be wonderful, I tell him.

No, I'm not nervous. It will be great.

Aside from that venture of this evening, there's the two choral pieces from the play. I want to get one of the local choir directors interested in supporting the rehearsal, recording and performance of those two gorgeous choral pieces.

Also, I am inventing fliers for 3 more performance gatherings I've scheduled so far in June and July. One will be at Melanie's at the end of June. It will include Ancient Voice, a form of wordless improvisational singing and sung poetry, transformational real-life stories, and a couple of songs or excerpts from my play. The other two events, in July, will be like the one I am doing with Laura tonight at Peggy's --They will focus on A New Wrinkle--one evening at Tangren's, the other Rob and Rochelle's. There's work to do to prepare guest lists for each of them.

No, I haven't heard from theater producer Peter A. yet with his feedback on the script. No I haven't heard back from Jim G. or Tammy M. yet. Gary tells me I need to find people to intercede and act as a bridge at times. He relates how he did that in his own natural foods business when people did not return his calls. Someone told me I had a hard sell/soft sell approach, he says. Just keep at it, he urges me.

There's a lot more to keep at. Raising $5,000-$8,000 to produce the play for instance. Finding other venues for performance gatherings in other cities. Doing a virgin voyage of a new workshop on creative aging. Checking out how to connect with Kickstarter.com and Fracturedatlas.com regarding raising money and finding a nonprofit status specially devoted to supporting artists.

The list-- like the beat-- goes on. Gary as usual looks at me with a smile and tells me "Well there is a lot going on!" He summarizes from his perspective the high points and main characters and sets out some action items he suggests I follow up on.
I'm glad to have this relationship as a support as I develop my work.

Metamorphosis. The progression from one stage or form into another. Change. Growth. Transformation. Emerging. Flying. Communicating. Sharing.

I'm looking at my little vision book, which is not yet half-filled. It contains images and words that encourage me. I've turned to the page where dear Carolyn Myers has written on a birthday card from 2009:

"Ride high! Write on! May all your pigs fly! May the ageist populace flee or convert!" On the opposite page is a rubbing of a hag who could be Baba Yaga riding a wolf.

Another person, Jane from my Artist Conference Network group has written:

"Gusto, humor. Sink your teeth into this potent, unarticulated subject and make us look."

These love notes inspire my momentum, especially when I feel a bit weary. This morning, I am not weary. I am quite happy, even though hobbling. I am looking forward to this evening.

The Sea of Life

It's impossible to go through a day without returning several times to thoughts of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Whenever I think of it, I return to my childish superheroine fantasies.

Because everything that happens is part of us. The devastating earthquakes in Haiti and Tibet, the suicide bombers, the child brides. What news. I am sure it was no better in the past, but people did not know as much as we do today. We are given so much news of the suffering of the world. Even if we have anesthetized ourselves, we each carry a bundle of grief over the condition of the earth and of humanity. What to do with that grief?

Yesterday I wished I was Superwoman. I could fly down there and without any heavy pondering, wondering or littering of the ocean floor with various unworkable equipment, I could just remedy the catastrophe. And while I was there, I would clear the water of the oil that already gushed out into the ocean, and magically clean the living beings under and above the sea. If only I could do that.

So far, these heroic notions have not worked. I meditate and pray. Not heroic, not like Superwoman's exploits. I do the practice of Tonglen, breathing in all the poison, darkness, greed, sorrow and struggle and breathing out radiant light. I pray for happiness and ease for all living beings and of the earth itself. I pray for the harmony of the outer and inner elements.

To be alive at this time is to be keenly aware of how utterly and deeply foolish human beings can be, and what immense repercussions spill out over us all. Deep breath in and out. Remembering the essence.

Meanwhile, personal life goes on of course. I moved from the wheelchair to a walker as days of rain turned to warm spring sun. Ahhh...

I'm still working on a song "Are You Going to Take It with You to the Grave?" and visualizing how to bring my play A New Wrinkle forward to production. I will share excerpts from the play at the end of May at Peg Rubin's house in Ashland. Peg is the director of Center for Sacred Theatre. She also has collaborated for many years with Jean Houston in seminars that Jean presents. I've always thought Peg is an exceptional human being and am really looking forward to sharing the play with others at her place.

I have realized how much I want to share via solo performance gatherings and soon I will start to present solo performances titled "The Wisdom of Lived Experience." My first two performance gatherings take place in Ashland in June and July. I'll write more about them soon.

Just finished reading My Master's Robe by Thich Nhat Han, a beautiful book about his first months and years as a monk during the Vietnam war. Just re-read The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche, which is one of my favorite books-- so juicy, inspirational and full of practical guidance. I'm also re-reading Myriad Worlds, a wonderful book about Buddhist cosmology. World systems and the cycles of time have fascinated me since I was a teen. Some things don't change much.

I hope that some things do change, and for the better. May a rain of blessings pour down on this earth. Breathing in and breathing out, I send you a smile.