Seven Most Valuable Things I have Learned

Izzy took us for our evening walk. Izzy is my dog. Most people walk their dog. My dog walks me. We started a little later than usual tonight, so the light disappeared before we got to the dirt roads. I live in a unique community that caters to equestrians. You can keep your horse in your back yard and ride right down your street. The beautiful Georgia red clay roads are more horse friendly than asphalt and besides just being more pleasant to walk on, they create a country like feeling in the middle of downtown. Adding more to their ambiance, the street lights are much farther and fewer between on the dirt roads. Neither Shantji or I enjoy the glare from the lights in the neighborhood. Moonlight is so much softer on the eyes. 

As we walked into the darkness of the night, just pass the empty polo field, we were assaulted with the blinding lights of a pickup truck. It was hard to tell if it was stopped or just moving very, very slow.  When we got a little closer I saw a big yellow Labrador jump in the back. The truck picked up a little speed and moved passed. us, then slowed way down again. The dog jumped back out and just started walking along side the truck as it crawled down the road. I asked Shantji, "Did you see that? He's walking his dog the lazy way. When he saw us with Izzy, he told his dog to get back in the truck and after he passed us, he let him get back out." Shantji couldn't believe that a dog would be so smart that you could get it to follow commands like that.

I told him, "Izzy is smart like that. If I would be more patient, spend more time and be consistent with training her, Izzy is certainly capable. Remember how she was when I first got her? She wouldn't come when you called her. Now she knows her name. She comes, sits and stays (briefly, anyway). I have only had her less than two months. Imagine what she will be like in two years."  Something about the softness of the clay beneath our feet, the smell of Night Jasmine, the moonshine through the trees, the strange truck, the cool dog and Izzy's insistent pace brought a liveliness to our walk and our chirping. 
 
Shantji asked, "How long have we known each other? "Going on 7 years", I told him."  After taking a few moments to absorb that, he continued, "Imagine that you are my Izzy. If you have learned anything from me over these years, tell me one for each year I've known you."

                                      Seven Most Valuable Things I've Learned

1. The dramas in life are not as important as we make them out to be. They come, and they go. We entertain them for as long as we have interest in them or as long as they serve some purpose. When they pass they become just another story we will either remember or forget. Some are good. Some are bad, but nothing lasts forever.
2. We end up doing whatever it is we are going to end up doing, and it's all okay. Life spontaneously unfolds in this Cosmic Play. We are merely an actor in it, not the director of it. Karma works itself out. It's not up to us. Everything happens on it's own in Cosmic Time through the Cosmic Will.
3. Things are not as they appear. We are all delusional from time to time. You have to dig deep to find the truth.
4. Don't get fixated on things. It is pointless. Whatever will be, will be. You can't put a square peg in a round hole no matter how much you want to.
5.  Resistance brings struggle and misery. Openness brings expansion and growth.
6. Face your fears, or they will eat you alive. Leaps of faith are mandatory for the spiritual seeker.
7. It's okay to make a fool of yourself, but don't fool yourself. Just be yourself. Above all, be truthful.

"Will you be open to write this on Facebook? I think other people might enjoy the story," Shantji suggested. "Yes, Shantji. I have been trained well", I teased. "Good girl," he teased back.

Covering Up the White

I have been experiencing a creative block. I sit to write and nothing comes. I sit to bead, and nothing forms. I sit to draw and the pen does not move. I am not unhappy, but neither am I overjoyed. Sometimes my best art comes when I am miserable, and sometimes when I am blissed out. I am neither right now. I have never been comfortable in the middle of the road. I tend to be on one side or the other. It seems I have landed in the middle. Perhaps it is mundane life of work and chores that has landed me in this lull of creativity, as my gypsy shoes have been put away for now.

Thank God a dear friend taught me to paint before art school destroyed my natural creativity. I can still hear him say, "Just cover up the white." We would sit side by side with two blank, white canvases with our paints in between us, put on some beautiful music and cover up the white until art happened. When I got to art school there was a "process," and there were rules. I never finished that degree. Couldn't see the point in it, as they did not seem to understand what art truly was. What I like about art is that rules are meant to be broken, not engrained. That's how you expand outside the box. I think that applies to most things in life.

I don't believe life is about tasks and processes and work and chores. I think life is about finding beauty. We've got it all mixed up. Life happens on it's own. It's not for us to control. It is for us to celebrate. Try and work it too hard and your "art" looses it's beauty, it's softness, it's light. When we get stuck, we just need to poke a hole somewhere, start something, do one thing different and before we know it, we are flowing in beauty again.

So this is the hole I poked. I think it worked. My fingers moved over the key board and sentences formed. Time to go cover up some white. Have a beautiful evening everyone. Namaste.