We’ve negotiated a treaty
The wasps and I.
Yesterday we were thrown into
a sudden and terrifying conflict
when I opened the lid of the bird feeder
and laid bare their well crafted hive.
I dropped the entire construction
in the center of my porch
and ran
as several startled hornets
circled and memorized my face.
The remainder of the day
I gave them a wide birth
outdoors.
Sentinels warned me from
their safety perimeter
by hovering in that awkward
menacing way
directly in my vision
legs and abdomen dangling.
From the window
inside
I watched as one steadfast Mama
remained to warm the larvae.
Hours later she was joined by another
and close to nightfall most,
by my estimation,
returned to cover the newly
open and vulnerable nest.
This morning, they seem to have decided
I am no longer an immediate threat.
And I feel a similar guarded respect for them.
I was able to enjoy my coffee
on the glider
less than five feet away
and observe as they cleared
the shimmering dew
from their dark wings.
They remind me of Rilke’s
Dragon Princess.
Perhaps all the swarms
we unwittingly expose
do not wish to attack
or sting
but are waiting for us
‘Beautiful and brave”
to hold our anxiety
to let them live
and nurse their creations
and leave each of us
to our vigilant peace.
I picked six blackberries under the blue dome of heaven and the curious gaze of a dragonfly. Each one tasted different.
One was sour almost beyond bearing but it made me aware that sour ripens to sweet with sunshine, space, and patience.
I held those purple gems loosely in my left palm and experienced them one by one.
This, I consumed as a honeybee frantically gathered pollen.
That, as a song sparrow alighted on the swaying brambles and unleashed joyful tidings to no one in particular.
Another as the warming breeze carried the scent of milkweed.
The last, the darkest, was swallowed as I exited the entrance newly schooled in the knowledge that there are no separate moments only one forever unfolding.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks
It astonishes me how terrified Western culture is of strong emotions. Even little children are aware of this and use it to their advantage. Note, the next time you see a child throwing a temper tantrum near the impulse buys of any major store and the panicked, pissed off, or apologetic reaction of their adult in charge.
As an educator I’ve noticed that most bullying is directed toward students who have intense feelings and are unable to hide their reactions. And, it bothers me that the general rule of thumb in advising these victims, is to blame them for their vulnerability. As if authenticity were a weakness. As if this were a lesson they should have learned and embodied when they were in preschool. Because the sad truth is that most of us have learned and embodied the lesson that we need to conceal or tamp down our feelings in preschool. Not channel them. Not hold them. But bury or swallow or mask them into something the general public can tolerate.
Fierce vulnerability is alluring. To be emotionally open and available is also to be in a permanent state of rebellion. Well, anger is acceptable. But only if you are white and male. The only place where strong emotions are tolerated in our society is in the field of sports. And then, only if you or your team wins.
Mind you, I am not only referring to the challenging emotions. Show a bit too much bliss and you open yourself to ridicule as well. Normalcy, particularly in the USA, is a state of neutrality to the point of indifference.
A dear friend with an impassioned nature was told over and over again as a child to “Tone it down!” Her immense joy was as intolerable to her family and community as her profound sadness, righteous rage, or deep empathy. Phrases like, “Suck it up, buttercup,” or “I’ll give you something to cry about,” were frequently hurled at her. She became, in her adult youth, a fathomless well of projection to all who entered her orbit, glorified and vilified in turn for her emotional truth.
It so happens that she was also a spiritual seeker. She left her Catholic upbringing and studied Eastern religion with the misguided notion that meditation would fix her intensity issues. Meditation and constant striving would provide her with the illusive off switch that would make her more palatable. Worthy. This, of course, backfired. Spectacularly. And thank goodness!
This woman, and all the strong women in my life that I so admire, are grounded in their boundless openness. They trust in their thrashing about. They are able to let the storms roll and let them pass. They do not bow to the tyranny of positive thinking. They are enlightened but also endarkened. Balanced. Brave. Holding gently. Releasing with gratitude.
I’ve learned a lot from watching cooking shows. More than simply how to cook, that is. There are so many reasons I’m drawn to them. I enjoy watching people use their hands. Most especially to create or build or fix or heal. All four of which are a part of preparing a good meal.
Great chefs understand that cooking is soul work. Sure, there are some ornery bastards. Some colossal egos. Tempers flare. I’ve never known any creative area where these issues didn’t arise. More often, what amazes me about the community of chefs is the way they collaborate. And while they may be highly critical, most also seem willing to submit their own cooking to the same scrutiny.
Cooking is hard work; busy, relentless, and consuming. You have to maintain your health, keep your energy levels high, and commit your whole self to the process.
Master chefs have a devotion to growth, learning, experimentation, and change. They fail and head right back to the pantry. It seems that each of them had a devastating setback in their lives; a fire, cancer, bankruptcy, a second fire; and yet, they persist. In fact, most chefs mark these traumatic events, that might have taken the heart of others, as a catalyst for transformation. You could say that they discovered their unique genius only after, or because of, a personal catastrophe.
Lately, an acute attention and appreciation for the local environment play a key role in fine cuisine. I deeply admire the move to incorporate not only local farms and produce, but to explore and forage, with respect and restraint, our seas, meadows, and forests. The artistry with which they incorporate these natural elements is, often times, astonishing. It also strikes me as ancient and witchy.
Cooking is an intriguing mix of science, art, skill, and attention. An alchemy of the senses. But, a crucial, though often unnamed component of cooking is time. Time and I are often at odds. Usually this is when I am ruminating on the past, or anxious about the future, or freaking out because it is passing so doggone quickly. Never is this more apparent than when I try to make an egg. I know first hand why this is the magical test of most chefs. You have to have ALLLLL your shit together to prepare a proper egg. And then it is a focused dance for the following three minutes or so. Artists create egg dishes with effortless elegance and keep a tidy kitchen, to boot. Not so in my kitchen.
The Zen Buddhist nun, Jeong Kwan, uses time expertly in preparing her temple food. Kimchi is created and harvested precisely when most nutritious and delicious. She plans and prepares healing vegan meals according to the seasons and cycles of her temple surroundings. She then presents them with exquisite artistry. We could all learn from her generous, humble offering.
In one way or another, I see great chefs as examples of mindful living. They are beholden to the gifts bestowed in their home place and as interpreted through the work of their senses, imagination, and hands. This is a calling. A calling that all of us have the opportunity to answer and practice on a daily basis. We can demonstrate our love for others and this beautiful, bountiful world by cooking healthy, tasty, well planned and attentively prepared food.
One of my favorite chefs as photographed by: John Hardwick
“I have wonderful news! … This is wonderful news you want to hear,…You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments that you cannot even imagine yet!”
Anybody who has read, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green probably recognized this quote. IMHO, The Fault in our Stars is an exquisite book everyone should read. Hopefully, before you see the movie. Although I love movies, books are always better. You get to dive deeper. You get to live inside the characters. Reading calls out a different form of attention than watching. And, attention is my theme for today.
Although I will not ask you to “Pay Attention.” I never liked that phrase. Probably because of the word pay. I don’t like to pay for things. Not because I am cheap, at least I hope not, but because of the obligation behind it.
So instead I will ask you, as a favor, to please, give me the kindness of your attention. For truly, there is no greater act of generosity you can do than offer your full attention to someone.
As I wrote at the beginning, you are going to live a long life, with great and terrible moments…”What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” The poet Mary Oliver, another great writer, asks this question in one of her poems. And she answers her own question in another poem. She says, “Instructions for living a life: pay attention, be astonished, tell about it.”
John Green would agree with Mary Oliver’s instructions for living a life. In a different passage from The Fault in Our Stars, he writes, “I believe the universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is improbably biased toward the consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed.” He tells us that the real heroes are the people who notice things.
The Buddhist philosophy is founded on mindfulness. The Dalai Lama describes mindfulness as kind, loving awareness or attention without judgement. It isn’t easy. Especially now when we have so many things to keep us distracted. Which is why we have to practice it. Practice mindfulness. Practice being attentive and letting go of judgement and our need to make something good or bad.
There are few absolutes in life, few things you can be certain about but I know this to be true in my heart, whatever you give your attention to will be transformed by it, will grow from it. And YOU will grow from it. If I asked you to become aware of your breathing…without asking you to change it, just by bringing your awareness to the breath, it will deepen. The same can be said of how you sit, or how you listen, or look…once you give your attention to that moment you will see that you actually need to try harder NOT to make it better. This is the heart of meditation. Mary Oliver again says, “I do not know how to pray, I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to stroll through the fields.”
So whatever you want to do with your one wild and precious life, whatever that is, it will be richer if you give it, or practicing giving it, your full attention.
St. Thomas said, “The reward for patience… is more patience.” The same is true of attention. The more you practice attention, shifting your awareness, the more you are able to practice it. And how do you do that? Set the goal or intention each day that you will give attention to some area of your life. Something small. Something near you. Maybe you will give attention to how you breathe, or what makes you laugh, or the words you say, or perhaps you will do your best to look at the sky and feel the sun on your face.
Because life is full of both great and terrible moments, there will be many times in your life practicing attention will demand courage. But, I still believe, with all the love in my heart, that the mind is powerful and the focal point of our thoughts can be transformed. In the same way energy from the sun transforms life, or the pull of the moon affects the tides, consciousness radiates.
You will find the more you practice attention, the more you appreciate what is given you, now, in this moment. All that you need is here. Truly, what better time to observe the universe’s elegance than right now?
The Gospel of St Thomas tells us Jesus said that the kingdom of heaven is spread on the Earth but men do not see it. Be the hero or heroine of your own life. See the kingdom of heaven spread before you. Notice the beauty and elegance of the universe in the moments you are given, offer your attention to your, “One wild and precious life.”
Labyrinth Blackberries
Lucky Pilgrim 