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TOOLS FOR THE JOURNEY

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What you are embarking on is really a journey, a journey within the grander one of life. Along the way you may encounter surprises, frustrations, newfound emotions, and, hopefully, great joy. You carry with you at all times a bag of tricks that you may just need reminding of as you set off. The tools are handy and access to them is just a thought away. It is always a good idea to travel with tools and supplies if you are going on a journey—you know, just in case you get stuck in the mud, find yourself lost, or eat bad road food. Three convenient tools when traveling down a path of energy shifts and change are: creativity, faith, and connection. Use these tools throughout your journey, as touchstones or reminders of the spiritual and emotional resources available to you.

■ CREATIVITY ■

Creativity appears like fireflies—blink, the light is there; blink, it is gone. It may only be inklings of new ways of looking at your world, but accessing creative energy is as easy as planning a meal, taking a new route to work, or painting a door in your living space red just because you love the color.

This journey we’re on together is also meant to unlock the creative gifts you were born with. We are all creative, each and every one of us. Sometimes we may just need reminders. Being creative is not necessarily the same as being artistic. Try to let go of any “results-oriented” focus you may hold inside in connection with being creative. Being creative doesn’t mean you have to produce a beautiful picture or sculpture when the bell rings and time is up. Try to let go of the associations with scissors, paint, and paper, if they are lingering nearby in your consciousness. Being creative can quite simply mean looking at a familiar landscape or even a problem in a new way. Some of the most wildly creative folks I know do not make art for a living. They just can’t help being creative. It is just as involuntary as taking a breath. Thinking and acting creatively can be learned. My friend Wendy Walsh gives her students this Abraham Maslow quote: “People who are only good with hammers, see every problem as a nail.” How brilliant is that? This woman met her future husband on an airport bus and fell in love with him after saying yes to his invitation to Nepal. Don’t forget to ask the question and extend the invitation, and don’t forget to say yes. As another friend of mine says, “Instead of a quick no, how about a slow yes?” Try lots of different tools, not just hammers. Use them in combinations, turn them upside down, and use them backwards. You can’t imagine how much fun it is to break the rules.

We are creative all day, every day, in our problem solving and interactions. Creativity is not product- or end-result dependent, as many may have been lead to believe. Every situation we encounter requires some degree of right-brain activity. Organizing your closet is creative. Finding a way to handle a difficult confrontation is creative. Talking to children is creative. Creativity is the process, the experimenting, and the pushing oneself outside of the routine ways of being in the world. Don’t get hung up on the outcome. I am talking to you Type A personalities. So, this quote by Donald Kennedy is for you:

A lot of disappointed people have been left standing on the street corner waiting for the bus marked “perfection.”

Thinking creatively gives us freedom, more room to move around in the universe. Acting creatively means breaking free of rigidity, coloring outside the lines. We may start to see the world differently and be in the world differently. The world becomes bigger, and the possibilities may seem limitless. Creativity has some risk involved, more like a happy challenge. I agree with abstract artist Helen Frankenthaler when she claimed, “I’d rather risk an ugly surprise than rely on things I know I can do.” Try something new, push yourself to feel the good fear, the fear that if you push through, it will make you exponentially stronger and a much more interesting human.

Creative inspiration comes from everywhere and sometimes out of nowhere. The fireflies blink their mighty little lights right outside the window and you can’t help but notice and wonder. You don’t want to catch them and put them in a jar, or they might die. You want to watch them for a while and see what happens. Creative thoughts happen like that. They can appear in your dreams or be inspired by a song on the radio, the colors in a room, or the clouds on the horizon. Mostly you just have to pay attention to the hints and inklings of inspiration all around you.

FREE-RANGE CHICKEN CREATIVITY

My friend Greg is an inspired cinematographer and musician. He most definitely lives a pan-creative life. He is a natural-born creative. Greg felt as if he had no other choice but to live a creative life. It is who he is. It was a burden when he was young to be told constantly, “Oh, Greg, you are so creative,” when he didn’t even know what that meant yet. He told me that later on he came to realize that maybe it meant he saw, heard, or experienced the world differently than other people. His mission became a journey to connect with like-minded folks to work and spend time with. At the risk of sounding born-again, Greg says that his creativity springs from “abandon, risk, and ultimately surrender.” He describes creative people as generally “thoughtfully, presently absent,” their minds drawing on past and future stimulation with influences flying in from everywhere. Greg thinks about it in terms of parameters and what he calls “free-range chicken creativity.” He said that unlike chickens, he needs some boundaries to his roaming in order to be content and at his best. If someone tells him to go shoot a scene the way he wants, for instance, with no clear direction, he feels as if he has too much wide-open space in the creative landscape. If, on the other hand, they tell him to shoot a scene to invoke the bleakest, most rainy day in London using only a gray palette but giving the slightest hint that the weather and mood may clear, well, then he has his parameters, and his creativity is unleashed and can run wild. Give yourself some parameters if the open range seems too vast, but don’t lock yourself in the chicken coop and refuse to come out.

I admit that I didn’t often read the poetry in The New Yorker until recently. I always read the cartoons. Well, I did read Sharon Olds’s and Mary Oliver’s poetry, which generally sets a spark or rocks a musical nerve. Once I saw their work there, I realized I had better take a closer look. Some hidden gems and inspiration may be lurking inside. You can never be sure where you will find creative inspiration, so keep your receptors open. It may hit you while you are dreaming, driving, or taking out the trash. Something or someone may be that ember that you can’t ignore. The idea, already in our subconscious, comes flying to the surface and we recognize it as it appears. A connection is made and our brain cells jump to attention, our fingers twitch, and a stirring down deep begins.

Don’t forget to write down ideas and inspirations, sing them, or dance them. Do something to act on them because they seem to disappear as fast as they arrive. I have scraps of paper and note cards in my car, by my bed, and tucked into books and journals and everywhere. Some of them have just a word or a line written on them. I never know how or when they will inspire me, but eventually they always do. We can have amazingly vivid dreams and remember them in the first few groggy moments of our waking, only to find all memory of them gone in the next seconds. Record it somehow. The information is significant. You might not know why immediately, so just let it be.

There are even workshops given in several places across the country that address accessing your creativity if you need an extra boost. Try one if you want. It would probably be great fun. My friend Wendy (remember, from the airport bus and the hammers?) is a photojournalist who teaches a class called “Learning to See.” She encourages her students to think differently about the process of making pictures. She reassures them that the technical information about photography can be learned, but each one of them will see and photograph the world differently. Wendy infuses them with the notion that their vision and perspective is truly unique. She gives her class the assignment of photographing a roll of toilet paper. Finding beauty in the mundane is creativity at its best. She encourages them (and me) to be curious and ask questions, especially “What if . . .?” and “Why not ...?” Here is one of my favorite quotes she gives to her class. It is by the late designer Tibor Kalman:

The perfect state of creative bliss is having power (you are 50) and knowing nothing (you are 9).

I actually think we are more powerful and know everything at age nine because we tend to be so much more open to the possibilities in the world, but I understand what he is saying. I fall somewhere in between nine and fifty on the time line, but I have learned to learn again by just allowing. It is so fun to feel nine years old again. Try it.

Tap into your creative energy. Ask, “What if . . .?” of a problem or just let yourself explore colors and textures and shapes in the world.

Peonies, their scent and craggy pinkness, always remind me of my grandmother, and that makes me smile and get motivated, for she was an artist. Visits to her house in the very early spring meant big earthenware bowls full of paperwhites in the living room, their dynamic aroma greeting you eagerly as you entered the front hall.

Dodo (a nickname her brother had given her that stuck from childhood) had extensive flower gardens and worked in them every day in the summer. Fresh flowers filled the house. Ironically, my grandmother had no sense of smell. She lost it as a result of illness when she was young, yet she loved beautiful things around her and what she remembered as beautiful-smelling things. Today, even a single peony in a mason jar on my desk settles me into a creative space.

■ FAITH ■

Faith is not the same as believing. Faith is knowing and not knowing at the same time. Indian poet and philosopher Rabindranath Tagore captured the essence of true faith when he wrote, “Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.” Faith is the fine line between sheer terror and a sigh of relief. Faith is a knowingness, a connection to and acceptance of the idea that we need to show up every day and say, “I am here and I am ready.” The not knowing is the wondrous pilgrimages and all of the passionate questions. It is the understanding that the world does not revolve around us but that we are just one tiny part of the glorious whole. I would not presume to tell you what or whom to believe in—that is your job to discover. Faith, like prayer, is a dialogue. It emanates from journeys and inquiries.

Finding faith isn’t something to be sanctimonious about, just like being a vegetarian doesn’t make you a better person. Just as soon as you start feeling a little bit smug and think you have done all the work and have faith all figured out, I promise you something will happen to rattle you to the core. You will be spiritually slammed into next week and knocked off your feet. If there are any rules to the game, that is rule number one. Faith is a constant and fluid challenge. The universe will never cease in testing our faith. It is part of the package, part of the plan. The harder we struggle against that, the more tests we are likely to encounter, or at least the harder they may appear to us. Finding your faith will make it just a bit more peaceful. Faith gives us more ingredients for our big ol’ humble pie—awe and acceptance.

At the beginning of her lovely book, Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott talks about her experience of finding faith:

My coming to faith did not start with a leap but rather a series of staggers from what seemed like one place to another. Like lily pads, round and green, these places summoned and then held me up while I grew.

You will be held up and supported on your journey, sometimes in ways that might not make sense at the time. Tests of faith and courage provide us with strength for the next go-round of challenges. Roadblocks and traumas will also appear in every physical and emotional way, shape, or form. Faith asks that you whisper into the still, dark night, “Okay, I am listening. I’m pretty afraid, but I am listening.”

The initiation of movement is the leap of faith, the stepping into the fire, clutching onto an armful of fear that wonders if you might drown—enough fear to be aware—but a transcendence of that fear allows you to take the steps. We are momentarily alone and vulnerable spiritually, and this is a great challenge, but we must take this courageous flight in order to make a space for grace and transformation. It is when we must key in to our faith, not necessarily our beliefs but the essence of true faith, a knowing and at the same time not knowing. Initiation is spiritual thrill seeking in all its glory, an emotional risk taking. St. John of the Cross, a sixteenth-century theologian, writes beautifully about such experiences in high contemplation:

I entered into unknowing,

yet when I saw myself there,

without knowing where I was,

I understood great things;

I will not say what I felt

For I remained in unknowing

Transcending all know ledge

Faith is what gets us through and pushes us to the other side of the hard parts. Faith is electric and holds amazing energy if we choose to explore it. Try being the bird and sing into the darkness.

■ CONNECTION ■

Energy connects us to people and places and the universe. Connections can bring us peace and strength. Connections can reassure us that we belong somehow and somewhere. We become aware of our links to and part in the grandly textured physical and spiritual landscape. I imagine this may be one of the motivations for the surge in the number of people exploring alternative energy work like Reiki, polarity, cranial sacral, and other practices. We wonder how we fit in to the bigger picture and how all the puzzle pieces fit together. I don’t believe we need concrete answers, just glimmers and suggestions. In our technology-oriented world we are becoming more disconnected from one another and nature. We can’t be a champion of either unless we stay connected.

A person entering a room can dramatically influence the energy. Aren’t there people you know who just make you want to be around them, their energy is so warm and inviting? I will sometimes try to engage strangers with good energy in conversation, connect with them. The energy exchange feeds my spiritual curiosity and hunger and hopefully the other person’s, too. Sometimes, if I am receptive, it even brings clarity to something I’ve been struggling with. Remaining responsibly open to the good energy out there makes the universe seem full of wonder and all possibilities limitless. You may be surprised to suddenly meet someone who helps you find the answers you have been searching for. Come to expect it. There are no accidents, and people come into our lives because we have attracted them. They are here for a reason.

I am not advocating striking up conversations with absolutely everyone you encounter or forging relationships instantly. A meaningful connection can be as simple as smiling, opening your eyes, or listening. Beware of energy leeches in the world—the ones who latch on and suck you dry without replenishing your energy stores. If you allow them into your life, they will not leave until you not only ask them but believe yourself that is what you want. You won’t attract them into your life if your emotions and energy are clear and in line. Some seeker leeches don’t know that they do this, and others may be sly enough to know exactly what they are doing. All relationships in the universe are reciprocal. They may be lopsided at times, but the point is that they even out at some point. Your intuitive radar will speak to you about people as well as places, so make sure you pay attention. When you give all of yourself away to other people’s problems and energy requirements, not only is there nothing left for you, but you are hiding and denying yourself your own desires. Let your own light shine.

When we live consciously, we can recognize our own power as that given in connection with all things greater than ourselves. By being conscious in every sense and with every sense, we can create sacred space around us every day and everywhere. Creating sacred space grounds us in the present and assures us of our place in the world. Sacred spaces, the open moments, tiny cracks in the time continuum when we leave all spiritual, psychological, and sociological obstacles behind us, lower walls and invite abundance and wonder in. By recognizing and remembering joy, we create sacred spaces. Creating sacred spaces changes our relationship to the hour and the day, to ourselves, to others, and to the universe. We observe the extraordinary in the everyday and are humbled and reborn.

We create sacred space by inviting others in, letting down boundaries, and letting go of fear. Sacred space is created when we make eye contact with our fellow man and woman on the street, no longer strangers but fellow travelers we have invited into our immediate universe. It is connections between people, intimacy at its height, acknowledgment of another’s existence, bonding us together now in this time and place. Sacred space is that fleeting speck of worldly time and connection that exists between a father and daughter, as when my four-year-old niece suddenly stops walking to urgently whisper a secret into her father’s ear—fleeting in time but everlasting in spirit and connection.

AWAKENING SPIRITUAL CONNECTIONS

Regina Sara Ryan describes in her fine book, The Woman Awake: Feminine Wisdom for Spiritual Life, her reaction to experiencing Janis Joplin perform for the first time, illustrating the power and glory of music from the soul:

When Janis sang the blues, she stabbed you with the suffering of humanity, and you felt your own suffering. I wept for completely selfish reasons. With each uninhibited rendering of song after song, I felt more acutely and bitterly my own inability and unwillingness to swing out, open up, “tell it like it is” in my art and work. I wept for my smallness of heart and for the thousand daily choices to make life comfortable rather than leave it somewhat raw, clumsy, open-ended and rife with possibility.

Connecting to dormant or hidden passions in our soul can give rise to great inspiration. We forget to look at what lies within and we forget how to awaken what is sleeping there. Music and dance and art are means to use to connect to parts of us that we don’t often reveal. Turn that car radio up high and sing at the top of your lungs. Dance with your partner in the kitchen before dinner tonight. Pull out photos from long ago and study the faces. Remember how you feel.

HONORING MEMORIES

Honoring memories by giving them space in your heart is another way of connecting. The tactile, the ephemeral, dreams, sounds, and aromas that transport us to other times, places, and planes of consciousness; they are the memories of those we have known, places we have been, adventures we have dared. Memories house our fears, our sadness, and our rapture.

How are you connected in this world? What is your history? Where do you get your strength, your commitment, your talents, your hazel eyes, and your aversion to orange food? What people, relatives, or friends impacted your life growing up? How? Describe some of your most vivid memories. Do you remember any little details of the scenes? How do you think they have influenced you and decisions you have made? Who is influencing you now? Our family or tribal connections can be complicated, but for better or for worse, it is how we receive our early information about life and how to live.

I remember piling into my grandfather Bud’s green Mustang convertible with my sister and brother on summer nights when we were young and it stayed light until bedtime. We climbed in with our pajamas on, and he would drive around with the three of us squished in the backseat. I was usually in the middle, and we would lean our heads way back and watch the sky blur by. I don’t remember any sounds except the trees in the wind. We all stayed very quiet. It is a memory that takes me right back to the moment, and even when it was happening I was nowhere else but right there as the landscape melted around me. It was a time of few worries, when most things were bigger than us but in a free and wonderful way. Memories are elusive phantoms and we all store them away differently, but this is one I carry with me always. My brother and sister may hold it as a part of their stories in other ways, but it is there somewhere, just the same.

THE GODDESSES

I belong to a women’s group. We call ourselves the Goddesses—no disrespect or undue vanity intended. I don’t even remember just how the name came about. We have been getting together faithfully once a month for six years for dinner, laughter, conversation, and the chance just to be women for a few moments. Once a year or so we sneak away for a weekend to spend time outdoors at the ocean or in the woods. It isn’t always easy for spouses and partners to understand the need we have for one another, the strength we gain from our connection and simply being together. We come back to them transformed each time, our spirits renewed, our wells refilled. One goddess’s husband loves it when she has a weekend with the group because she always returns with a passionate appetite.

We are artists, writers, businesswomen, teachers, mothers, wives, daughters, partners; married, divorced, single; employers, employees, and self-employed. We are thirty-something, forty-something and fifty-something—outdoorsy, indoorsy, dramatic, and shy. But when we come together each month, we are women. We need no other title. It is a refuge from expectations. It is the glory of no-strings-attached connecting with acceptance and love.

Each of us in the group has been lovingly carried through bumpy times. We have been mentored, cajoled, and lauded through brave change, confusion, new relationships, grief, loss, and triumph alike. The energy created by our connection is tremendous. We often joke that the estrogen levels in spaces we occupy could take out a small army. I realize that this kind of group is not for everyone and there are other ways to make connections. Some women have come and stayed, others have moved away for work life, and love. Still others have sniffed around a little and moved on, not finding what they needed or not arriving at the right time.

Making connections with others isn’t always easy. We are thrown together with peers at an early age, and that continues through school. We are then on our own to find people we like and who like us, people we connect with. Sometimes even now when I am making a new friend I feel as though I am eight years old again. I am hoping I will get invited to the “cool girls’” slumber party because they want to invite me, not because their mom is making them.

There is risk involved with opening up yourself to reveal fears and vulnerabilities, to connecting at our sources of truth. Terry Tempest Williams writes when talking about the idea of exposing our true selves that “we commit our vulnerabilities not to fear but to courage. . . .” Find or rediscover powerful connections in your life. Find a safe place to ask questions and test emerging emotions and fears. It is thoroughly reassuring to speak your truth and see heads bob in understanding of what you are saying. The words “I know just what you mean, I feel the same way” will liberate you when they are said to you. Make time in your life and space in your heart for connecting with others. Embrace it wholly with the most terrified, tentative parts of your spirit. The rewards are limitless, the power immense.

Someday after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides, and gravity, we shall harness—for God— the energies of love. And then, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

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from Les Directions de l’Avenir (Towards the Future)

—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin