Letting Go

Letting Go, Alexanderplatz, Berlin, Germany, July 2004, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/640 sec @ f7.5, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 8. Forgive One Person
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}
"Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies." -- Nelson Mandela

This month, try to release one individual--it could be yourself--from your anger and judgment. If you can't change what happened, then change your thoughts about it. Let it go. Forgiveness isn't about forgetting, it's about being at peace in your own skin. It's about getting on with your life, says Arun Gandhi, who forgave the man who killed his grandfather. "Being obsessed with anger only destroys us."

Forgiveness should be so easy. We don't have to do anything. We need only to let go of things. Let go of our righteousness, our indignation, our judgmentalism, and our hurt and our pain.

It is important to realize that with our forgiveness, we are helping to heal two souls -- that of the forgiven, and our own. The pain that we carry around in terms of resentment, and perhaps that ever present undercurrent of a desire for revenge, will be lessened.

So try letting go. Forgive the last person who has slighted you -- simply within your own mind. Give yourself a chance to renew that relationship that might otherwise be extinguished. What do you fear? Of getting hurt again? That will be yet another opportunity to forgive. And in the process, you will both learn very valuable lessons.

Out of control

Out of Control, Uncanoonuc Mt., Goffstown, NH, August 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length varying, Exposure 1/10 sec @ f25.0, ISO 800, exposure bias -1/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 7. Practice Self-Responsibility
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}
"We want to put an end to wars without giving up our violent intentions and violent relationships," -- Arun Gandhi

Wars break out over our evening meals--or in the world--when we try to control someone else. Accept that everyone holds a piece of the truth, Arun Gandhi says. Accept that you're only responsible for your own values, beliefs, and choices.

Control. It is such an interesting concept. We feel we need it for our security. For our sanity. We wish to control the future, to control the world, and to control others. But there is only one that we may control -- and that is ourself.

Indeed, we burden ourselves by trying to control the outcome, either consciously or by want. For if the world does not give us what we want, then we feel stressed.

Try as an experiment, consciously not trying to control the outcome, the future, or another. Instead, revel in the divine dance that is underway, taking into account the infinite interactions of all forces, all actions, to precisely yield this present moment.

Live with an openness, a receptivity, a wonder, and an awe at what is unfolding before your eyes. That is life itself. That is creation.

Instead of trying to control it all, instead try to get "in tune" with it, and float along the river of life, laughing as the bubbles come and the bubbles go, and of course, enjoy the scenery along the way. For it will never be the same again. That is part of the magic and the beauty.

The Wanderer

The Wanderer, Mt. Kearsarge, Warner, NH, August 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 75mm, Exposure 1/30 sec @ f29.0, ISO 220, exposure bias -1/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 6. Be the Bridge
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}

"Out beyond the ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there is a field. I'll meet you there." -- Rumi

When do you demonize and fear people you don't even know? When you have incorrect perceptions of others, it's easier to fear, even hate them. Get to know the genuine in others. Meet people of other cultures, religions, and backgrounds. Find shared experiences, hopes, and beliefs. Connect on that holy ground, and peace will flow out from those moments.

I find this message to be true and important. If we are not exposed to other cultures, to other peoples and their ways of life, to other philosophies, other religions, other ideas about what is important in life, then we become isolated and stultified and quite possibly arrogant.

We may believe our ideas and opinions are "the best", or the "right" ones. Only based on the fact that they are the only ones we know. Or that others like us told us so.

Like everything in life, it is so important that you get direct experiential knowledge. That you experience this life, this world, with an open and receptive mind and attitude. And that you seek to make your own judgments (rather than rely upon others), or even better, that you withhold judgments and just experience the variety of life.

The world is a most fascinating place, and there is so much that is fascinating to see, to hear, the taste, and to experience. Broaden your horizons. Be a citizen of the world. And have a wanderer's heart.

Conflicting Views

"Lives to the gallon", Billboard with graffiti, London, England, February 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/80 sec @ f3.2, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 5. Creatively Resolve One Conflict
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}
"Conflicts are a call to creative problem-solving." -- Louise Diamond

Whether you're hosting a family gathering or conferencing with your staff, conflict will pop up as surely as that annoying neighbor who wants you to vote like him. Intensity will always percolate in any community. Conflicts can't be avoided. But we can learn to navigate them more confidently and use the tension as an opportunity to express our views honestly and peacefully.

The next time conflict surfaces, keep breathing, stay calm, thoughtfully speak your truth, listen to others, and try to find some shared ground. Realize that your frustration may be about the situation, not the person. Set the intention to find a resolution. Try to find the humor. Agree to disagree, if necessary.

So, the photo here comes from a trip to London just before the start of the Iraq war. It's clear the graffiti artist's message. And what if you were a supporter (at that time) of going into Iraq? A sure recipe for conflict, right?

Well, I don't really wish to re-start that debate ;-) But let's use it to make some points.

First of all, you are not your "positions". You may take positions from time-to-time, but they do not define you. And you should make sure you don't define yourself as a series of opinions, positions, and then bundle them up into bins with labels. That objectification of the self is a big part of the problem.

If someone disagrees with your positions, or you with his, that does not have to put you in conflict with the individual.

So what of the disagreements and conflicting views that will inevitably arise many times throughout the day?

It is your choice how you wish to deal with them. My suggestion is to value above all else the individual's humanity, and as applicable, his friendship. With that firmly in mind, how angry will you get? Will you make the intention to not hurt the individual or damage the relationship? Is your dialog based upon mutual respect? Do you seek to understand his viewpoint? Do you wait for the opening, the receptiveness, to your opinion before pushing it on him? Are you as open-minded as you hope that he will be?

This is the manner in which interpersonal conflicts can be wisely addressed. With a calm, respectful attitude. It does not imply acquiescence or lack of principle. But it does demonstrate what you truly value -- a peaceful approach to conflict resolution. And by so doing, you take one more step toward peace itself.

Joy on the Hill

Joy on the Hill, Portland, Oregon, April 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f6.3, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 4. Focus on the Positive
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}
"Plant yourself in the middle of what you love most--the thing within you that is most alive." -- Yael Lachman

Others may want to waste their precious time focusing on the perceived ugliness in the world. Be the one who focuses on the positive, and watch the magic happen. Our thoughts are powerful. What we pay attention to expands. Attract peace with your thoughts. Notice peaceful people and places, tune out violence.

And remember that more people are at peace than at war all across the earth. This is the story we need to focus on, broadcast, and amplify. The world is evolving and becoming a brighter place.

OK, this is the easy one. Totally within our control. Totally a matter of "attitude".

OK, so maybe it's not quite that simple ;-) But seriously, it is relatively easy to focus on the positive, emphasize those things that are helpful and wise, rather than hurtful and counterproductive.

The first thing I would tell people, if you really want to see the difference here is .... TURN OFF THE TV! Sorry for shouting. But really, do you think that the gang-style killing that just happened over on the east side of Chicago is relevant to 99.99% of the people that heard the story on the national news? If it bleeds, it leads. What a mindless calculation.

And when you are done with that mindless story, you can count on being bombarded by other mindless advertisements trying to sell you things that you don't need. Why bother?

Get outside. Get into nature. Find its rhythm and get in tune with it. Slow down. Look inward. That is where you will find answers and insights. Feel the peacefulness envelope you, as you slowly detox from the angst-filled, conflict-ridden, artificial world that you see in the news and elsewhere.

If you seek the positive in the world -- really seek it -- you will find it everywhere. Why that doesn't make the news says more about our culture, I'm afraid, than about its merit or worth.

Make yourself the decider. The gatekeeper. The watchman. Don't let just anyone play with your mind or your feelings. Eschew manipulation in favor of insight. You know all of this deep inside. Get in touch with that quiet voice, and take control of the messages that you allow to enter. Stand a watchful guard. It's amazing the things that will try to slip past your higher self.

The Demon Within

The Demon Within, Washington, DC, April 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 32mm, Exposure 1/4 sec @ f4.2, ISO 800, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 3. Heal a Piece of Your Anger
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}
"Peace is as much about getting the bombs out of our own hearts as out of the Pentagon budget." -- Colman McCarthy

It's normal to get angry. But as peacemakers, our challenge is to channel that frustration into something greater. Think of your anger as rocket fuel that can launch your dreams--not scald people around you. View it as a surge of energy to create what you really want and need. Practice breathing deeply, disarming yourself and asking, "Why am I so angry? What do I really want?"

If we can transform our anger into a higher dream, as King did, we take a stand for peace. We step away from the vise of anger and step into the lives we really want.

I think this is such a key step. In the course of my normal day, I often hear people belittle others opinions, even go so far as to call people who feel a certain way "stupid, ignorant, or fanatics". What's interesting, is that I hear it on both sides of the conservative-liberal "divide". Each side, saying the same angry judgments against the other. And as for talk radio or most of the news media ... well, it is very hard to find calm, objective analysis these days. Does anyone truly gain from such exchanges?

This is where, for all of the desire to change the world, and somehow, magically, bring peace, we must first work on our own negative feelings and volcanic anger. What good can it possibly do to preach how others should behave, when we are not modeling it ourselves. People may react to words, but they internalize demonstrated, principled action.

This was the power of Gandhi, King, and Mandella. Not just words, but actions that were aligned with those words.

So while you look outside yourself to see what is broken in the world, peer deeply inside and begin your work within. For before you can march for peace, rally for peace, demonstrate for peace, or sit-in for peace, you must be peaceful.

Otherwise, it is nothing but empty rhetoric and wasted energy, and perhaps worse; the incongruity might turn off those who would otherwise wish to have followed you. You could have the ability to inspire others, but that requires an internally consistent message.

As Gandhi famously told his followers: "We must be the change we wish to see." In this case, it means we must ourselves be peaceful within and without. We must be peace.

Running Meditation

Running Meditation, Portland, Oregon, May 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 50mm, Exposure 1/13 sec @ f4.8, ISO 800, exposure bias -1/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Step 2. Nurture Peace in Yourself
{continuing the series, by Susan Skog}
"The first step is to come home to ourselves. You don't need to become a Buddha. You need to become yourself." -- Thich Nhat Hanh

It's hard to stay peaceful if we're overwhelmed by life. Find some peace, calm, and stability in your inner world so you can be kinder in your outer world. Do whatever soothes you, daily. Spend time in nature, meditate, sing, dance, play, chill on the couch. Do yoga, read by the fire, eat good chocolate while watching an entire sunset. Disconnect from conflict and just breathe for a while. Center yourself and tap into the peace you already carry within.

For me, it is not the cushion, but simply time alone.

Walking or running, especially in nature, usually does the trick. I notice that a few things happen.

Sometimes I work out problems -- things that didn't seem clear or resolvable before, now I see a way ahead.

Sometimes my mind is elsewhere, and I am just part of the rhythm of my breath and my steps. During those times, I may just feel the eventual euphoria called the runner's high (which is pretty nice by itself).

But many times, I have little "aha" moments. When my mind is clear and not focused on anything, and then a new idea, disconnected from anything else, just pops into my head. It's a creative inspiration, and then my mind can take that and run with it.

Othertimes, what I'll call "deep thoughts" appear and I spend time examining them. Not looking for answers to questions, but twirling the issue around so that I can see all sides of it. I like to challenge my own biases and cultural prejudices, and see if I can examine it from another's point of view. I like to blend the "us vs them" perspectives, and help uncover how there is only "all as one".

So this is my approach to nurturing peace within myself. What's yours? Whatever works best for you -- just give it time.

Blessed are the Peace Makers

Something's Wrong, Jaffa, israel, April 2008, Canon PowerShot SD870 IS, Exposure 1/400 sec @ f5.8, ISO 80, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This week, I'll begin a themed photo/blog series based on an article by Susan Skog "10 Ways to Bring Peace to the World". The title of this blog is a link to that article. And to reinforce the steps in my mind, and maybe yours, I'll try to marry each one with a photo.

We begin, perhaps, with a statement of the obvious. We have religions that have among their fundamental messages "Peace", and yet we are trapped, often by religious ideology, in a battle that is anything but peaceful. But also we are trapped by our own limited thinking, by our biases and our prejudices. We are not thinking clearly.

Here is Susan Skog's introductory message, and her first step:

As Martin Luther King, Jr. illustrated with his life, the entire world is lifted up by one individual choosing peace. One person can create something that ignites all of our collective hopes, energies, and dreams. What if you could do that too? What if you are destined to be your generation's peacemaker?

"We have before us the glorious opportunity to inject a new dimension of love into the veins of our civilization," King said. Here are 10 real ways you can cultivate deep in yourself the loving peace you want to see in the core of the world.

Step 1. Wherever You Stand, Make It Camp David

"The only way we can make peace is for each of us to be the peace we want to see." -- Susan Collin Marks

It's up to us. We can't wait for someone more powerful or wiser to deliver peace. We are the wise and powerful ones who choose peace in every thought and action.

King showed us that even the simplest acts tilt the world toward peace. When his house was burned during the civil rights movement, he raced home not knowing if his wife and young daughter were safe. And he knew whatever he did could affect the anger brewing in the country. He stepped onto his porch and said, "Remember, this is what God said, 'We are not advocating violence. We want to love our enemies. I want you to love your enemies. Be good to them. Love them and let them know you love them.'"

Global peace is a personal choice, hour by hour. Ask yourself, "Am I going to add to the fighting in the world? Or offer up something greater?"

You really do have to admire Martin Luther King, and his message of peace directly in the face of violence against him and his family. In the culture I have grown up in, even though there is a Christian backdrop, the real message has been one of strength and power. Indeed, "weakness" by not responding directly to the threats and provocations, we are told implicitly and explicitly, will only make you more vulnerable.

Clearly we have a long way to go to create a culture of peace. But one at a time, and one step at a time, we may each begin, if we so choose.

"Don't We All?"

Beneficent Smile, Burma (Myanmar), November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/100 sec @ f2.8, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I love this picture. Look at that smile. You need to understand that my good friend here was being verbally accosted by the three young Burmese girls trying to selling their wares on the American tourists that drop in to this border town from Thailand's northern tip.

You could have many different reactions to this somewhat raucous attack, but I can think of none better than this smile.

I thought of this picture when I read this brief story about another kind of encounter between two seemingly different types of people. Have a look at it, and see what you think. And then you will understand the title of this post.

"Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy."

-Thich Nhat Hanh

Are you lost?

Canoe in the clouds, Tucker Pond, Warner, NH, July 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 40mm, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f7.1, ISO 200, exposure bias -1 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Woah. I'm a little disoriented. The canoe is floating on the clouds. For a minute, my mind lost it's grip on "reality" -- the way we think the world works.

But that momentary loss is a healthy interruption to our internal navigation system. Sometimes, it is essential to be lost.

"When you lose yourself, you find the Beloved. There is no other secret. I don't know any more than this."

-- Ansari of Herat (1006-1089 C.E.: An Early Sufi Master)

God is everywhere and everything. We are God. There is nothing but the oneness of God. It is only our sense of being a separate ego that obscures the omnipresent Truth.

The gift of (in)sight

Mind the Gap, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/660 sec @ f2.8, ISO 66, flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Sometimes we need others to help us realize our true potential. The "gap" between what we "know" we can do, and what is truly possible, is rather large indeed. We often limit our potential by sending implicit (and often explicit) "I can't" messages to our brains and our bodies.

Take a look at this story below, and realize how the odds were stacked against this family, this father, and this child. But then realize what became possible, and see the attitude that bursts through what others would call significant disabilities. Even our language has to change. And that requires true (in)sight.

Buddha's compassion

Your Buddha Half, Tokyo, Japan, April 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 90mm, Exposure 1/50 sec @ f5.3, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Compassion
is the willingness
to play
in the field of dreams
even though
you are awake.

-- Matthew Flickstein,
"Swallowing the River Ganges"

Meditation

Industrious, Chiang Saen, Tailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f4.5, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Meditation - a poem inspired by Thoreau

by Amy Belding Brown

For starters,
lie face down in the grass
and watch the industry
of ants
as they hunt and gather
endlessly.
They are relentless
in their pursuit
of affluence
and will attach themselves
to wreckage
twice their size;
they'll spend their whole afternoon
struggling to bring it
home to their
dark tunnels.

Then think --
does this remind you
of anyone
you know?

Next,
turn over
and face the empty sky.
Let your eyes rest
in that high blue field.
Notice the thousand variations
in that color
and how one sky
can hold them all.
Imagine yourself weightless,
falling upwards
drifting with the birds.

Then think --
does this remind you
of who you want
to be?
Cloud Ripples, Amherst, NH, September 2007, Canon PowerShot SD870 IS, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f16.0, ISO 80, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Looking For Your Face

Sunrise, Sunset, Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii, February 2002, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f5.0, ISO 400, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Looking For Your Face

From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it.

Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for.

Today I have found you
and those that laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did.

I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you with a hundred eyes.

My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold.

I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine.

Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow.

My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you

Your effulgence
has lit a fire in my heart
and you have made radiant
for me
the earth and sky.

My arrow of love
has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer.

-- Rumi --

Simple as Black and White

Black and White, Jebenhausen, Germany, January 2009, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f8.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter, heavily post-processed in iPhoto © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

On MLK day, I thought a black and white photo was appropriate. Simply because of its integration into the whole picture. You cannot have one without the other. We are all brothers and sisters. We've learned enough in the past 40 years to reinforce the value of diversity. In our food, in our economy (and our stock portfolios), and in our species. Without diversity, you *will* die. That is just Nature's way, and our guarantee for change and growth through evolution.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. understood that. And what was most beautiful about this person -- in my mind -- was that he held the strongest of convictions along side of the notion of non-violence. Imagine where we would be today if MLK had taken the path of the Black Panthers. Does anyone really believe we would have achieved more than we, as a nation, has achieved to date?

Non-violence is such a sophisticated and powerful approach. And in the end, it is the only strategy, I believe, that can unite us. And in the end, this is what we need. A recognition that we are not alone, not isolated, but together, and united, and whole.

MLK, as so many luminaries, gave his life for his beliefs and his convictions. We certainly owe him a debt of gratitude and honor, for helping to light the candle and not curse the darkness, and for showing us the way.

Happy New Year!

Make your own fireworks, Jaffa, Israel, April 2008, Canon PowerShot SD870 IS, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f3.5, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This photo comes from the Old Port City of Jaffa, just south of Tel Aviv, Israel. I was walking through the old alleyways, in amongst the shops, and I came upon this painting, unceremoniously hung on an outside wall.

Not for sale. Just for decoration.

Indeed, the shops had closed, and the painting remained open to the elements and to anyone's mischievous hands. What a wonderful gift.

I love all the colors, and imagine them, tonight especially, as my own personal fireworks display.

"Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can." -- Danny Kaye

I would also like to share with you this simple list I collected somewhere along one of the alleyways in my own life.

To me, it is like one of those quick-use guides to the game of life, meant to help those who have no patience for the thick instruction manual printed in so many languages, replete with warnings and alerts, when all we want is to start playing with our new gizmo.

Very well then. By all means. Let the games begin.

Live with intention.
Walk to the edge.
Listen hard.
Practice wellness.
Play with abandon.
Laugh.
Choose with no regret.
Continue to learn.
Appreciate your friends.
Do what you love.
Live as if this is all there is.

-- Mary Anne Roadacher-Hershey
It is my profound wish that each of you find peace and harmony during your journey into this Happy New Year!

Vantage point

Vantage point #1, St. John's Church, Old Acre, Israel, September 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 90mm, Exposure 1/800 sec @ f7.1, ISO 200, exposure bias -4/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

So how is your vantage point? Do you have a good place from which to view your surroundings?

You know, that which you see and how you see it is very much affected by where you sit. By how you were raised. By your parents ... your friends ... your culture. By your own attitudes and perspective.

For example, you might see the photo above and think -- well the sun is surely setting upon that religion. Simply a shadow of what it once was.

Or you could change your vantage point, and then you would have the view below. Maybe now it looks like the sun is rising and brightly illuminating that profound belief.

Vantage point #2, St. John's Church, Old Acre, Israel, September 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 50mm, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f8.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -4/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Either way, it's all in how you look at it. And what meaning you ascribe to it. Be careful of ascribing judgment. For it is probably just based upon your vantage point, which can very easily change, if you are willing to move around a bit.

Let him who would move the world first move himself.
-- Socrates

With eyes to see ...

Starfish, Coos Bay, Oregon, May 2008, Canon PowerShot SD870 IS, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f14.0, ISO 60, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Take a close look at this picture. First, can you tell what it is? Well, I guess the title gives it away -- that's right, these are different colored starfish attached to a rock jetty along the Oregon coast.

Now go ahead a look a little closer. Examine the textures, the colors, the undulations, and then, right there, in the upper left hand quadrant. Do you see it? I didn't notice it until I was looking at the picture. It's a starfish eye! I didn't even know they had eyes. And it's looking right back at you! Wow. (You may need to enlarge the photo to see it -- just click on it.)

It is amazing to me when we stop and appreciate all that we see from moment to moment. It's hard to express just how grateful I am for this present moment.

And so I wanted to share this five minute video I just came across. I think its message is right on the mark, and its imagery is excellent, and its music soothing. Please enjoy, and I hope that you are simply grateful that you have eyes to see and ears to hear.

Let yourself dissolve

Sparkling Ripples, Yellowstone Lake, Wyoming, May 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 80mm, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f18, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter, color and contrast adjusted in iPhoto. © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Such a simple concept. No. Such a powerful action.

Let yourself dissolve. Just let your "self" dissolve.

Not by any effort. Rather, lack of effort.

Simply be. And then you will know.

Like bubbles in the sea,
All the worlds arise in you.

Know you are the Self.
Know you are one.

Let yourself dissolve.

You see the world.
But like the snake in the rope,
It is not really there.

You are pure.

Let yourself dissolve.

-- Ashtavakra Gita 5:2-3

Sunset upon clouds

Sunset Upon Clouds, Nolin Lake State Park, Kentucky, June 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f5.6, ISO 200, exposure bias -1.67 stops, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Ah, there is that sunset again. And this time it's igniting those beautiful clouds in the foreground.

Trace back those rays, and perhaps you can see the cauldron of creation itself.

Squint your eyes in the brightness, and see the cloud tips being dabbed with light, and ripples being painted upon the lake.

Is there anything to do but smile? Surely such a scene will lift any spirit:

Sometimes I go about pitying myself
And all the while
I am being carried across the sky
By beautiful clouds.

-- Ojibway Indian Poem

Desperately Seeking Sunsets

Scorched Sky, Cedar Pass, Badlands National Park, South Dakota, May 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 120mm, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f5.6, ISO 200, exposure bias -3.00 stops, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

So where do you go to find your sunsets? Are they just outside your kitchen window? Perhaps a few steps outside your back door? You are lucky indeed when that occurs, but what about some exploration?

Why not venture out? Follow that trail that leads to who-knows-where? Go somewhere you’ve never been before.

Watch the sun as it looms low on the horizon. Playing with the sky; dancing with the clouds. See how the canvas is brushed over and over, as if by an artist in search of that perfect color.

Be prepared, but do take the risk. After all, the sun is setting, and soon it will be dark. And you still have to find your way back home.

Vanishing Sun, Castle Trail, Badlands National Park, South Dakota, May 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 62mm, Exposure 1/1000 sec @ f8.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -3.67 stops, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

But oh, that luscious twilight. The hour or two after the sun dips below the mountain peaks. What a glorious time.

Watch the mountain bluebirds as they take flight, as if to celebrate the dusk. Enjoy the pronghorn deer as they stroll and graze into the setting sun. Listen to the spring peepers as they revel in the cool, moist fading light. A communion, as it were.

Life itself is being created. Right here, right now. Keep your eyes and your ears open; better still, keep your mind and your heart wide open.

And may you glimpse a beautiful sunset, every time the spirit moves you.

Simple Majesty

Simple Majesty, Grand Teton National Park, May 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 26mm, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f4.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, with flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I'm on something of an adventure these days. Taking two months off from work to travel across country in our new-to-us RV. You can read more about that at these blogs if you are interested: Thistle Dew Too and Frito-a-Day.

We were in Yellowstone National Park, and considering heading down to Grand Teton National Park the next day. I asked a campground employee who had spent time down there what to see. One of the things she mentioned was this chapel. In her words "if you can't see God looking through its window, you won't find him anywhere."

I didn't really know what to expect. Some sort of a magnificent church built in the mountains? Spectacular stained glass windows? Ornate hand-carved pulpit and pews?

Humble Worship, Chapel of the Transfiguration, Grand Teton National Park, May 2008, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f8.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Nope. It was just this very simple log cabin, with its rustic pews and plain cross, set to look upon the simple majesty of the Grand Teton mountain range. And in those magnificent snow covered peaks and my imagination of the hardy pioneers that built this chapel, I was sure I could see God's handiwork.

"... in the presence of this magnificence and grandeur, some small hint of that eternal majesty is conveyed to us who pause and, in quiet, worship ..." (from a plaque at the chapel entrance)

Life in the snow

I was out for a run the other day, and came across this bucolic sight. With the sun dipping over the tree-line, a warm glow was cast upon this snowman. Look at the character in his face. His animation, his decoration, his mannerisms. He looks almost alive. Sure glad he has on those shades to protect his eyes from the setting sun. Such artistic details on a simple snowman. Mmmm, those marshallows look like they are yummy.

But wait there was more -- much more.

An entire snowfamily had been created out of that frozen white stuff. Check out these photos:


This dapper fellow is decked out in the traditional top hat and scarf.


Here's a clever father and son. Their creators are nothing if not imaginative!


Here you can see what they are all up to. They are roasting marshmallows over a snowball fire! Ha!!

I was enthralled by the display. What a gift to offer the many passers-by. And I'm sure for the family that helped bring them to life.

But it brings along another useful lesson, I think, of impermanence. Since taking that run, we've had temps reach into the 50s and received about 2 inches of rain. You can imagine that this snowfamily is no more. And you know their creators realized this inevitability. And yet they created this display anyways. For the sake of creation itself, not for the (perceived) permanence of the creation. Is that not a lesson to us all? The art, the beauty, the joy is in the moment ... in the creative act itself.

And what of this snowfamily? Where did it go once the rains came? It simply went back to its source --turned once again into water, bringing life to others downstream.

And what of their accoutrements? Packed away, I expect, for another cold snowy day. When a new family can be brought to life. And to help add the zest of life to their creators.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

[Click on the collage to enlarge the photos]
Can there be anything more beautiful than a family, together and healthy, sharing stories and laughter on Christmas? May your holidays be just a beautiful as ours.

See below if you would like to read our holiday letter.

[Click on the letter to read]

Thankful for the insight

Thankful for the foliage, Amherst, NH, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/60 sec @ f3.5, ISO 200, exposure bias -4/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I received the assembled quotes below from Mitchell Ratner, a Senior Teacher at the Stillwater Mindful Practice Center. I've only been there once (they are in the DC area), but continue to receive their e-mail meditation topics. They practice in the tradition of Thich Nhat Hanh, with whom I seem to resonate.

Below he describes some of his concepts of "Interbeing". A recognition of the inter-relationships that make up every thing we see (and tend to take as a separate object). It is a very different way to view the world, and once internalized, makes it so much easier to recognize our shared humanity and mutual dependency. Which of course is what nature teaches us every day if we pay attention.

I hope on this Thanksgiving Day holiday, you are able to take a moment and reflect upon not only all that for which you can be grateful, but also how that relates to so much more of the world around us. Indeed, we can be grateful for it all, for we are but a small part of this world, and this world is us.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Extracts from The Miracle of Mindfulness, by Thich Nhat Hanh
[Excerpts assembled by Rev. Susan Manker-Seale]

“I like to walk alone on country paths, rice plants and wild grasses on both sides, putting each foot down on the earth in mindfulness, knowing that I walk on the wondrous earth.  In such moments, existence is a miraculous and mysterious reality.  People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.  But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth.  Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize:  a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child--our own two eyes.  All is a miracle...

"…the great body of reality is indivisible.  It cannot be cut into pieces with separate existences of their own…

“Consider the example of a table.  The table’s existence is possible due to the existence of things which we might call ‘the non-table world’:  the forest where the wood grew and was cut, the carpenter, the iron ore which became the nails and screws, and countless other things which have relation to the table, the parents and ancestors of the carpenter, the sun and rain which made it possible for the trees to grow.

“If you grasp the table’s reality then you see that in the table itself are present all those things which we normally think of as the non-table world.  If you took away any of those non-table elements and returned them to their sources--the nails back to the iron ore, the wood to the forest, the carpenter to his parents--the table would no longer exist.

“A person who looks at the table and can see the universe is a person who can see the way…

“We have to strip away all the barriers in order to live as part of the universal life.  A person isn’t some private entity traveling unaffected through time and space as if sealed off from the rest of the world by a thick shell…  In our lives are present a multitude of phenomena, just as we ourselves are present in many different phenomena.  We are life, and life is limitless.”

Why bother?

Floating leaf, Tucker Pond, Salisbury, NH, October 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 200mm, Exposure 1/50 sec @ f5.6, ISO 200, exposure bias -1/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Personal transformation has a difficult time breaking through the husk of comfort. Why bother, the essence asks? You are comfortable and secure inside your shell. You are protected. Life is pretty nice, just the way it is.

Are you a gardener? A tender of plants? A planter of seeds?

Sometimes, depending on the seed, to encourage germination you are advised by the packet to soak the seeds overnight, or to scratch the seed shell to encourage root emergence. Yes, sometimes, even nature provides too much comfort to allow the essence to emerge, and to grow and develop. At least, much of the time.

So what to do? Only a fool would cast aside the safety and security developed over years of careful planning and execution, right?

Only a fool indeed. A fool that had seen glimpses of the creative energy that is life itself. A fool that rested among the rustling grasses, warmed by the setting sun, smiling at the birds overhead as they began their journey south, pulled by an unseen and unnamed force. It is that force — subtle and nondescript, at least in the language of our work-a-day world — that begs this question: ‘why bother?’

Why bother, indeed. Just who is keeping score? Will you be a success or a failure at this game called life? How big is the field, just where are the goal posts? Help, you ask, please — the rules are changing as you think. Or better, once you stop thinking. And start to listen. To that small, quiet voice — it’s a feeling, really — deep within — or maybe out there somewhere — in another dimension perhaps — hitting you with a glancing blow, from an oblique angle, orthogonal to what we call the “real world”.

You know, it’s funny. You know the answer. You absolutely know what to do. This is the revelation.

The question is — do you trust that insight? Will you follow its guidance — and take the needed risks? Put your own comfort, and the security of your family, at risk? Is this nothing more than a selfish endeavor? Why do you get to make the call? Just who says that’s OK?

You know the “right” answer. But do you have the courage and the conviction? The depth of faith? (Oh God how I’ve come to hate that word.) Will you take action?

Just a few more years, you hear yourself saying. Until you earn some more money. Build up a bigger nest egg. Then you’ll be able to do what is asked. What you ask. Be patient. You have responsibilities. You must think not only of yourself.

Oh, but what of those souls that never act — who suppress their essence. They remained ungerminated. Dead, within their soil and their soul. Contributing to our collective evolution only though their own decomposition. Compost for the next soul. May the next one have the strength and the urgency.

No, you cannot accept that fate. Sure, that will be your end, but you have so much life left to live. So much creation left within you. This is your chance to influence the flow. To dip your toe into the stream of life, and make a unique contribution to the river of dreams.

No, you will not recoil from this challenge. You will not ignore this invitation. You are one of the lucky ones. You have asked “why?” You have listened for the answer. You may have even glimpsed into the fire of the moment. Seen the cauldron of creation. Witnessed the peace of the Now. The bliss of awareness. The reflection of beauty in every thing — which we label “pretty” and “ugly”.

The real crime would be to leave that insight to fend for itself. You must water it — fertilize it — keep it warm — even transplant it if needed. You cannot let this languish, to be overtaken by the weeds of the mundane and routine. It is too precious. At least you think so.

But this spark – this essence — is everywhere. So if you ignore it, it will not matter. Life will keep offering up the opportunity the each of us.

But you don’t want to ignore it.

This is where you'll find your bliss. You must follow that, says Joseph Campbell. But you know, it is different than pursuing a goal. You do not imagine it and then create it. Instead, it finds you. I’ve had this experience, maybe two or three times. It is almost indescribable. Picture yourself with a gentle smile — not a big grin, but certainly not a frown. A contented awareness. A satisfied knowing. A pleasantly surprised insight. And a recognition of the oneness in which we exist. This is the bliss I am talking about.

Time slows down. You can almost see the flux of life as it flows around the toe you have dipped in the water. That is the difference you have made. Without you, it would be something else. You are now a part of it. Not a leaf caught on the surface in the eddy of a backwash, but the rock itself that alters the stream's meander.

This is why you bother. This is why it is worth your time, and your energy. This is why it demands your courage. This is why it requires your faith and your trust. This is why it is worth the risk. Yes, I am sure it is worth the risk. Are you?

Come with me. Hold my hand. I’ll help you, and you can help me. Together, we will take the plunge. We will put one foot in front of the other. We will walk toward the stream. And when we get to the water's edge, we will sit for a while. We will convince ourselves that we know what we are doing. Even though we cannot know.

And then we will take off our shoes, roll up our pants, and step confidently into the stream. Come. Come with me. We need each other. Now is when we need to act. This is why we bother.

Fall comes quickly

Fall comes quickly, Amherst, NH, October 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm (varying), Exposure 1/30 sec @ f3.5, ISO 720, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I thank You God for most this amazing day;
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;
and for everything which is natural
which is infinite
which is yes.

-e.e. cummings

Finger of God

Finger of God, Mystery Lake, Sierra Mountains, CA, October 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/1600 sec @ f20, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

There it is again. Do you see it? The circular rainbow around the sun?

You wouldn’t have seen it if you didn’t somehow block out the sun’s intensity. But once done, the rainbow was revealed. That act allowed one to "open ones eyes" and see the inherent beauty that was present.

So why the “Finger of God”?

Well, first of all, you had the power within you to see this rainbow, or not, as you chose. Many people ascribe such wonders of nature to God, and why not? The only question, then, is just who (or what) exactly is this God?

Western cultures, born of the Abrahamic religions, presupposes that this God is “other” than Man; indeed, is outside, apart, and separate from all that we envision. He (and it is always male, isn't it) lives in Heaven, which is a place where we humans might get to go, after we die. We cannot unite with God during this life, but must wait for our Judgment Day, and the hope for Salvation, that we may once again unite with Him.

Interestingly, some Eastern traditions (e.g., Hinduism, Buddhism) recognize God very differently. That which we call God is sometimes referred to as Brahman, Buddha-nature, the Ground of Being, One without a second, and many other traditional names. Rather than the dualistic view that we are separate from God, these traditions teach that we can be one with God — that we all have this Godliness within us, and it is our challenge to “awaken” to this reality.

God lives not elsewhere, up in Heaven. But right here, right now, in this very moment. Not the concept of immortality or eternity, but rather timelessness. Not concept of everywhere or infinity but rather spacelessness.

We humans (and everything else manifest within all that is our universe) are but a expression of God itself. Not separate from a God that is watching over us, judging our behaviors, and being saddened by our sins. But a very part of Creation itself, that which we call God, or Nature, or ... (insert your traditional phrase for the ineffable).

So yes, what you see in the picture above is indeed the “Finger of God”.

We humans are on a long (think eons), inexorable path of evolution from “lesser” to “greater”, from creatures that were once unconscious, to humans who are now conscious and self-aware, and to a future state, illuminated by the leading wave of supra-conscious individuals we have called sages, saints, mystics, mahatmas, enlightened beings, Buddha, and Christ. These awakened beings illustrate the future evolutionary path of our species.

But more importantly, they help us to realize how this “Godliness” is within each of us, right now — if only we awaken to that truth. We all intuit this reality, to a lesser or greater degree. It is that “call” which drives us to look for meaning in our lives, to honor our spirituality, to become “seekers” of truth. They show us how to accept our mortal lives, and transcend both time and space in the here and now. They help us remove the primal fear of mortal death, and not replace that with mythic tales of everlasting life; but instead, realize timelessness right now, and now, and now again, in this very Moment of Life itself. That recognition brings with it a state of peacefulness and calm and wholeness, and replaces the inherent fear and anxiety of a separate self, cut off from the world and others, seeking to postpone an inevitable death.

Take a look. Squint your eyes a bit. Dare to place your hand in front of the Sun and see that Finger of God. Realize your interconnectedness with all that is. It is not our separateness that defines us, but indeed, our Oneness. It is not just your hand which contains the finger of God, but that of the saint, and that of the sinner. Not only the benevolent souls, but the street bums. Can you wrap your mind around that reality? It adds a level of beauty to all that is a part of this world we have manifest.

Namaste, my friend. We are One.

The sanctuary?

The sanctuary, Köln Cathedral, Köln, Germany, October 2001, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/30 sec @ f5.6, ISO 400, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

The concept of a sanctuary is comforting. A place one can go to avoid having to do battle, whether physical, legal, or emotional. But of course, like any other concept, it is only in our minds (singularly, or collectively). And it is true only as long as we (the royal we, or all of us) choose to believe it.

In a story that I recently read, traditional places of sanctuary actually became the nice convenient collection points for brutal killings, and the actual sanctuary for the story teller, turned out to be a tiny bathroom in a pastor's house. But that is not my point -- I just needed to explain the title and photo for this post.

So ... What have you been reading on your summer vacation?

I just finished an interesting, if somewhat unlikely, choice for some spare-time page turning. It is entitled “Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust,” by Immaculee Ilibagiza with Steve Erwin.

OK, so that might sound like a bit of a downer, and a rather poor choice. Especially with the 7th Harry Potter book recently released and all. (And, I didn't have to worry about some loudspoken fellow traveler giving away the ending ;-) But I must tell you, I really enjoyed it. I found it quite moving — both emotional and inspirational. And I would highly recommend it.

Here are a few quotes from it that caught my mind:

The world had seen the same thing happen many times before. After it happened in Nazi Germany, all the big, powerful countries swore, “Never again!” But here we were, six harmless females huddled in darkness, marked for execution because we were born Tutsi. How had history managed to repeat itself? How had this evil managed to surface once again? Why had the devil been allowed to walk among us unchalleneged, poisoning hearts and minds until it was too late?

I prayed for God to receive the child’s innocent soul, and then asked Him, How can I forgive people who would do such a thing to an infant?
I heard His answer as clearly as if we’d been sitting in the same room chatting: You are all my children ... and the baby is with Me now.
It was such a simple sentence, but it was the answer to the prayers I’d been lost in for days.

The pastor told his children to take a good look at us. “There, but for the grace of God, go any one of you,” he reminded them. “If you have the chance to help unfortunates like these ladies in times of trouble, make sure you do it — even if it means putting your own life at risk. This is how God wants us to live.”

He grabbled Felicien [Hutu gang leader that killed Immaculee’s family] by the shirt collar and hauled him to his feet. “What do you have to say to her? What do you have to say to Immaculee?”
Felicien was sobbing. I could feel his shame. He looked up at me for only a moment, but our eyes met. I reached out, touched his hands lightly, and quietly said what I’d come to say. “I forgive you.”

Now, some might be put off by the subject matter. Others might be put off by the explicit references to God and Christianity. But I urge you to look past those, if they concern you. I see a story that transcends any particular religion. Indeed, I see a story that both defines and transcends faith itself.

And this is not simply a story about man’s inhumanity toward man. Nor is it a story about mankind’s innate goodness. It is a reminder to us all. All of us caught up in our petty concerns, our busy-ness, our happiness or our sadness. The reality of our world is a complex thing. Our day-to-day lives could be turned upside down rather quickly. Things which are truly unimaginable really can happen. And that might be for good or for bad.

And to me it is a reminder of the only antidote we have to such pain, such loss, such tragedy: Compassion, forgiveness, and loving-kindness. Revenge will not work. Even justice can be misguided. We must consider the eternal wisdom from all religions and all traditions: “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.” It is the only principle that scales.

Beyond that, I think this book is remarkable in its ability to remind us what evils can prevail from a “tribal” mentality. That is, anything that causes an “us versus them” mentality. Whether we are talking about race, ethnicity, religion, or even politics. If you find yourself siding with “your kind” against “those idiots,” well then, somewhere your train has left the track, and you had best put it right again.

If you see yourself listening to extreme positions, put forth by the media talking heads, religious evangelicals, or political leaders, be suspect. Their job is usually to convince you of their position, rather than inform you to let you make up your own mind. And mass hysteria can lead a group of otherwise rational individuals to act like a pack of wild dogs. It is a fascinating and dangerous trait of human nature.

I come from the East, most of you are Westerners. If I look at you superficially, we are different, and if I put my emphasis on that level, we grow more distant. If I look on you as my own kind, as human beings like myself, with one nose, two eyes, and so forth, then automatically that distance is gone. We are the same human flesh. I want happiness; you also want happiness. From that mutual recognition, we can build respect and real trust of each other. From that can come cooperation and harmony.
-- His Holiness the Dalai Lama

But once again, I come back to compassion, forgiveness, and loving-kindness. Or just Unconditional Love for short. Regardless of your spiritual background or your religious persuasion. Consider its power, and its salvation for humanity, and that most complex, and at times, disconcerting thing called "the human condition". And then smile at your insight, for you have found the path to peace and bliss.

Someone asked me, “Aren’t you worried about the state of the world?” I allowed myself to breathe and then I said, “What is most important is not to allow your anxiety about what happens in the world to fill your heart. If your heart is filled with anxiety, you will get sick, and you will not be able to help.” There are wars  big and small  in many places, and that can cause us to lose our peace. Anxiety is the illness of our age. We worry about ourselves, our family, our friends, our work, and the state of the world. If we allow worry to fill our hearts, sooner or later we will get sick.

Yes, there is tremendous suffering all over the world, but knowing this need not paralyze us. If we practice mindful breathing, mindful walking, mindful sitting, and working in mindfulness, we try our best to help, and we can have peace in our heart. Worrying does not accomplish anything. Even if you worry twenty times more, it will not change the situation of the world. In fact, your anxiety will only make things worse. Even though things are not as we would like, we can still be content, knowing we are trying our best and will continue to do so. If we don’t know how to breathe, smile, and live every moment of our life deeply, we will never be able to help anyone. I am happy in the present moment. I do not ask for anything else. I do not expect any additional happiness or conditions that will bring about more happiness. The most important practice is aimlessness, not running after things, not grasping.
-- Thich Nhat Hanh, from the “Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching”

Heavenly Light

Heavenly Light, Inyo Mountains, CA, August 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 26mm, Exposure 1/30 sec @ f22, ISO 500, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

We completed our summer vacation this week. We visited my brother-in-law in Los Angeles, who took us camping up in the Ancient Bristle Cone Pine forest located in the White Mountains of California. It was a great trip, with many, many photos taken, and some great hiking to some very remote areas. After I go through them all, I’m sure more will show up here.

In the meantime, while driving back to LA, I noticed this pillar of light out the window and snapped a photo from his moving truck. And it made me think of this inspirational poem by the 12th century Sufi mystic, Rumi. I hope you enjoy his words along with this photo. Namaste.

Looking For Your Face, by Jelauddin Rumi

From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it.

Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for.

Today I have found you
and those that laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did.

I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you with a hundred eyes.

My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold.

I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine.

Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow.

My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you

Your effulgence
has lit a fire in my heart
and you have made radiant
for me
the earth and sky.

My arrow of love
has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer.

The Art of Drowning

Dawn clouds, Tucker Pond, Salisbury, NH, July 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/80 sec @ f2.8, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

A good friend sent me a poem by this author (who served two terms as U.S. Poet Laureate), and as it always does, one thing led to another, and here is one of his that caught my eye.

Right now, my daughter and I are getting our scuba diving certificates -- so perhaps you see the connection ;-) Anyways, without further ado:

The Art Of Drowning, by Billy Collins

I wonder how it all got started, this business
about seeing your life flash before your eyes
while you drown, as if panic, or the act of submergence,
could startle time into such compression, crushing
decades in the vice of your desperate, final seconds.

After falling off a steamship or being swept away
in a rush of floodwaters, wouldn't you hope
for a more leisurely review, an invisible hand
turning the pages of an album of photographs-
you up on a pony or blowing out candles in a conic hat.

How about a short animated film, a slide presentation?
Your life expressed in an essay, or in one model photograph?
Wouldn't any form be better than this sudden flash?
Your whole existence going off in your face
in an eyebrow-singeing explosion of biography-
nothing like the three large volumes you envisioned.

Survivors would have us believe in a brilliance
here, some bolt of truth forking across the water,
an ultimate Light before all the lights go out,
dawning on you with all its megalithic tonnage.
But if something does flash before your eyes
as you go under, it will probably be a fish,

a quick blur of curved silver darting away,
having nothing to do with your life or your death.
The tide will take you, or the lake will accept it all
as you sink toward the weedy disarray of the bottom,
leaving behind what you have already forgotten,
the surface, now overrun with the high travel of clouds.

Yes indeed.

No visit to the pearly gate;
no judgment meted out by an over-worked apostle;
no flash of insight to help guide your baby-choosing adventure on the next merry-go-round.
Just the “high travel of clouds” overhead.

Let us not forget that while we are still breathing.

Reflections on reflections

Stillness on the water, Tucker Pond, Salisbury, NH, October 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/800 sec @ f4.5, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I collect quotes. Don’t ask me why — I don’t know. Whenever I read something that affects me, or has a ring of truth (or irony, or humor), I tend to file it away. For later. For when my mind is elsewhere, and needs to be re-grounded.

Lately my mind has been everywhere, except here. That’s not good or bad, it just is.

But I came across this today, and just felt like sharing. The world is a reflection of us, and we of it. It is quite difficult at times to distinguish the reflection from the reflected. And so it should be. For there is no difference. Really, no separation between the two. We understand this when the water settles, and our mind is clear and free from distraction.

The world is your mirror.

The good you find in others, is in you too.
The faults you find in others, are your faults as well.
After all, to recognize something you must know it.

The possibilities you see in others, are possible for you as well. The beauty you see around you, is your beauty. The world around you is a reflection, a mirror showing you the person you are.

To change your world, you must change yourself. To blame and complain will only make matters worse. Whatever you care about, is your responsibility. What you see in others, shows you yourself.

See the best in others, and you will be your best. Give to others, and you give to yourself. Appreciate beauty, and you will be beautiful. Admire creativity, and you will be creative.

Love, and you will be loved. Seek to understand, and you will be understood. Listen, and your voice will be heard. Teach, and you will learn.

-- Author unknown

So, when all is said and done ... Here’s looking at you, kid. Take a gander in that mirror. You just might notice something you hadn’t seen before.

Just how courageous are you?

Spider and web, Chiang Rei, Thailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f5.0, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Do you think you are brave? Courageous? Willing to take a stand? Fight for your principles? Take on injustice?

Well, here’s another view.

That’s not really the hard path. The hard path — where courage is really needed — is to accept that adversity as a fact of life. To be present in the face of the suffering for which you are all ready to take up the good fight.

We all seem to think that the world should be somehow different than it is. And, being good citizens, and very altruistic, we would like to be a force for that change, right? Social activists. Politically involved. Green consumers. Back to nature. Anti-war. Truth and justice.

Well, what if that was the wrong first step? What if that fundamental premise — that the world should be different than it is — puts us on the slippery slope of right/wrong, good/evil, us/them. Do you see it?

Consider this a test. You can feel your inherent reaction to this idea. Let go of that. Expand your thinking. Open your eyes and your mind.

I think the question, then, is can you be so courageous as to be present for another’s pain and suffering, or your own. Accept the fact that life will deal you happiness, sorrow, and everything in between, and it is NOT your job to change things.

Maybe now you can see just how hard this task will be. And why it will require such an act of bravery.

”As long as we are caught up in always looking for certainty and happiness, rather than honoring the taste and smell and quality of exactly what is happening, as long as we’re always running away from discomfort, we’re going to be caught in a cycle of unhappiness and disappointment, and we will feel weaker and weaker. This way of seeing helps us to develop inner strength.”
-- Pema Chödrön

It's a mystery

Frosty edges, Amherst, NH, November 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/40 sec @ f2.8, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

It is a mystery, this life of ours, is it not? So many processes we do not fully understand. So many connections we can't begin to visualize. So we make up gods and godesses to fill in all of our gaps. Like the ice crystals on the edge of this leaf, even they are but a coating on the rich and complex edge of our universe of understanding. It goes so much deeper. It is much more intricate.

Should we try to understand? Well, why not. Why not let our scientific and spiritual inquiries takes us just as far as they can. And I suspect, we will add more to our already encyclopedic knowledge. And yet, even that will just illuminate how much more there is that we do not really understand.

So feel free to continue on with these quests. Full speed ahead at making this world a "better" place to be. Just keep in mind everyone and everything as you do so. For we really are all just a part of the same mystery we call life.

And keep in mind that even during such pursuit of knowledge, sometimes we need to step back from our conceptual understanding of life, and just live.

Being your true self, being your true nature, is different than experiencing it with thought. Realize that you are the mystery, and that you can’t really look at the mystery because you are only capable of looking from the mystery. There is a very awake, alive, and loving mystery, and that’s what is seeing through your eyes at this moment. That’s what is hearing through your ears at this moment. Instead of trying to figure it all out, which is impossible, I suggest you ask, "What’s ultimately behind this set of eyes?" Turn around to see what is looking. Encounter pure mystery, which is pure spirit, and wake up to what you are.

The mystery always takes care of itself -- as long as we are not addicted to following concepts. This addiction cuts off your access to the mystery. It’s like having a jewel in your pocket but you can’t get your hand into the pocket to pull it out. When you deeply know that you are the mystery experiencing itself, you realize that’s all that is ever happening. Whether you call an experience a me or a you, a good day or a rotten day, beauty or ugliness, compassion or cruelty -- it’s all still the mystery experiencing itself, extending itself into time and form. That’s all that is happening.

If this understanding is held only in your head, you can know it but you are not being it. The head is saying, "Oh, I know, I’m the mystery," and yet your body is acting like it didn’t get the message. It’s saying, "I’m still somebody, and I’ve got all these anxious thoughts and wants and desires." When we are being it knowingly, the whole being receives the message. And when the whole body receives the message, it’s like air going out of a balloon. When all the contradiction, turmoil, and searching for this and that deflates, there is the experience that the body is an extension of the mystery. Then the body can easily be moved by the mystery, by pure spirit.

-- Adyashanti, From "Emptiness Dancing"

Yes you can

Looking down from on high, Flying into Narita Airport, Tokyo, Japan, January 2007, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/525 sec @ f4.5, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Can you make a difference in the life of another person? Yes you can.

Can you push yourself beyond the bounds of what others accept as limitations? Yes you can.

Can you stare adversity in the face, and not recoil from it, but choose instead to embrace it and redefine it? Yes you can.

I'm sure you've read the stories about this father-son team. I had heard about them somewhere. Thought it was cool. There is love there beyond one's imagination.

But I hadn't seen this video, though, before today. I was simply moved to tears. I recommend you check it out. Oh yeah, might as well crank up the volume too. Grab some tissues. And plan on watching it again. Oh yeah, and check out some of the other links on that site as well.

"Nobody wanted Rick in a road race. Everybody looked at us, nobody talked to us, nobody wanted to have anything to do with us. But you can’t really blame them - people often are not educated, and they’d never seen anyone like us.

Not really too surprising, I guess. But that's not why I clipped this quote.

... they’d never seen anyone like us ...

I found that wording so very interesting.

Any ONE like US.

Isn't that what we have to understand? Really. Simply, that we truly are all one.

Then, just imagine what the world might be like with a little more love and compassion from each of us. And acceptance. Yes we can.

Separation of Church and ???

Church Steeple, Warner, NH, May 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 52mm, Exposure 1/125 sec @ f5.6, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

We have this thing about separation of church and state. And I guess I'm all for that, given the alternatives we see in too many places around the globe.

But we are strong proponents of education. Which is what -- learning how to learn, and gaining knowledge, which hopefully will lead to wisdom.

And what about our spiritual wisdom? Where does that come from? Is it only from individual journeys, prompted by mid-life crises or that calm, quiet voice from within? Perhaps it is it unteachable? Must it be found only on a self-guided path of discovery?

You are not your body.
Your body is not you.

You are not the doer.
You are not the enjoyer.

You are pure awareness,
The witness of all things.

You are without expectation,
Free.

Wherever you go,
Be happy!
-- Ashtavakra Gita 15:4

Such simple words. I find a resonance in them. And I wonder why this took almost 50 years. Would they make any sense at all at an earlier age? Do they make any sense at all to you?

Sometimes, I just wonder.

A public-domain English translation of the Ashtavakra Gita is available for those that would like to read more.

In a daze

In a daze, Amherst, NH, April 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm (zooming), Exposure 1/13 sec @ f22, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Have you ever found yourself in a pleasant, mindless daze. Where you look at nothing, yet see everything. Or is it look at everything, and see nothing? I was in that state the other day. I've only really been in it a couple of times -- two other times that I can remember right now (and yes, I wrote about them here and there). It is immensly pleasurable.

Characteristic of these experiences is a knowing smile, and the appreciation of beauty in everything that you see, and gratitude. The state is clearly observable by others -- who tend to think you've gone slightly mad ;-) You are not really looking clearly at any one thing; indeed, you are looking at nothing in particular, but seeing so much. We've all had that experience, right? Usually for just a brief moment, caught staring (but not really looking) at the dinner table candle, or whatever. It's that same experience, but applied to everything.

This particular experience lasted me most of the day. There was a profound sense of peace and calm. Everything was just "right" with the world -- yes, even with all of its faults -- just the way it was. It is a sense of recognizing your place in such a world. Of effortless existence. Not fighting for positions or opinions. Ultimate acceptance of what is.

I don't know what brings on these states. In all three cases, they occured outside, and the weather was nice. But other than that, the conditions were all quite different. One occurred just after I had been all "spun up" after missing my flight -- so my mind was clearly agitated. This one occured the morning after a party, and by any right, I should have been severely hung-over.

No, I don't know why these states appear, or how to "will" them into existence. But I do know that for me, they are glimpses of a state of existence that I wish to spend more time in. They are confirmation to me that I am on the right path, all having occurred within the last year.

Have you ever experienced such states of bliss? If so, do you know what triggered them? Care to share your experience?

Your reaction, please ...

Green Snake, Berlin Zoo, Berlin, Germany, July 2004, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/80 sec @ f4.2, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]


So tell me, what is your first reaction when you see a snake? Do you have a "natural aversion"? Or perhaps you understand this as a "conditioned response". Conditioned from what or by whom? Maybe you have just the opposite reaction -- perhaps you have grown up with an affinity for snakes.

You see, for me, I have no problem with snakes. I was a camp counselor, and worked at a wildlife display where many snakes were present. We would routinely take out the snakes and handle them, even putting them around our necks for dramatic effect. But it is interesting how many people's reactions are inherently fearful or squeemish, rather than curious or friendly or interested. (BTW, I have my own squeemishness -- just not snakes.)

I received an interesting comment to one of my earlier posts , and thought I would share it in this context (indeed, it prompted this post)

" ... Early this morning, I received a surprised call from this very special man and I must admit that he had, brighten up my day despite the fact that in the midst of our conversation, I could feel goose-pimple "popping" out on the surface of my skin !! He actually rescued a poor little spirit, oops, I mean a flimsy,slimy greenish and yellowish looking snake across the path with a stick as it was struggling to do so. Most people at the sight of it will probably scream their hearts out or they will just run away and withdraw. Gee, I would never be a able to overcome the fear of all the crippy crawly insects, let alone lifting up a snake !! This guy is the real Hero of my life and it takes a lot of courage to do that- what a splendid act on SPONTANEITY !"

" ... As for your story about the snake -- how interesting our conditioning, eh? One person hears this story and feels goosebumps; another imagines putting down the stick and picking up the snake with their bare hands. Educated (so he knows if the snake is poisoness) and experienced (so he knows how to handle snakes, and not exhibit fear), this is no problem at all."

"Kind of like life. We need both wisdom and experience to walk along the path of life, and understand how to deal with snakes and other slithery creatures that cross our paths. ..."

Life certainly is interesting, isn't it. So hard to tell what are "natural" reactions, what are "conditioned" reactions, and what are "instinctual" reactions. It seems to me, any time we find ourselves "reacting", we might choose to analyze the underlying reality.

And give ourselves the space between the event (e.g., seeing a snake) and our reaction (e.g., scream our hearts out), to determine what our response will be.

I believe it was a holocaust survivor who wrote,

"Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom"
-- Victor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

Blinded by the light

Circular Rainbow, Amherst, NH, April 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 20mm, Exposure 1/800 sec @ f14, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]
...
Mama always told me not to look into the eye's of the sun
But mama, that's where the fun is
...

~~ from Manfred Mann's version of Blinded by the Light,
~~ originally written by Bruce Springstein

The other day, I happened to look up at the sun. Yes, it had been a while since we last saw it ;-) And what did my eyes behold? Blindingly bright light, surrounded by a circular rainbow. For this picture, I let the peak of our garage block the sun. So you don't see the entire rainbow, but trust me, it goes all the way around.

I've seen these kinds of rainbows before, but only from airplanes, looking down onto the tops of clouds. This was the first one I've ever seen from the ground. I did a little Google research, and every reference I found to circular rainbows said you need to see them from on high -- but this one is from the ground looking up. Perhaps a little more rare than I had imagined.

Anyone else ever see one of these from the ground?

Like a pebble in a boundless ocean

Boundless Ocean, North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii, February 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/800 sec @ f7.0, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Something about the ocean is both alluring and scary to me. It’s calm, rythmic, lullabye can quickly place one in a meditative trance. But its ferociousness during a storm or tsunami can also make you run for your life.

And then there is its boundlessness, stretching on past the horizon, seemingly toward infinity. With depths greater in some places than our highest mountains, and pressures that would crush virtually all living things.

The ocean has the power to take life, and to sustain life, with food and by providing us with oxygen — more plentiful than the Amazon rain forest, thanks to the vastness of its simple algae.

In short, the ocean is a metaphor for the universe. And in such a universe, what is the meaning of any one of our simple lives. Surely it can be no more significant that the dropping of a single pebble into the boundless ocean, right?

Please consider this story as related by James S. Hewett:

Some years ago Alexander Woolcott described a scene in a New
York hospital where a grief-stricken mother sat in the hospital
lounge in stunned silence, tears streaming down her cheeks. She
had just lost her only child and she was gazing blindly into space
while the head nurse talked to her, simply because it was the duty
of the head nurse to talk in such circumstances.

"Did Mrs. Norris notice the shabby little boy sitting in the
hall just next to her daughter's room?"

No, Mrs. Norris had not noticed him.

"There," continued the head nurse, "there is a case. That
little boy's mother is a young French woman who was brought in a
week ago by ambulance from their shabby one-room apartment to
which they had gravitated when they came to this country scarcely
three months ago. They had lost all their people in the old
country and knew nobody here. The two had only each other. Every
day that lad has come and sat there from sunup to sundown in the
vain hope that she would awaken and speak to him. Now, he has no
home at all!"

Mrs. Norris was listening now. So the nurse went on, "Fifteen
minutes ago that little mother died, dropped off like a pebble in
the boundless ocean, and now it is my duty to go out and tell that
little fellow that, at the age of seven, he is all alone in the
world." The head nurse paused, then turned plaintively to Mrs.
Norris. "I don't suppose," she said hesitantly, "I don't suppose
that you would go out and tell him for me?"

What happened in the next few moments is something that you
remember forever. Mrs. Norris stood up, dried her tears, went out
and put her arms around the lad and led that homeless child off to
her childless home, and in the darkness they both knew they had
become lights to each other!

Caricature

Caricature, Tokyo, Japan, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 82mm, Exposure 1/5 sec @ f5.3, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Caricatures are interesting, don't you think? And they can be quite fun and entertaining as well -- perhaps you've had one drawn of you or someone in your family.

Of course, we understand what we are seeing here. The good ones are recognizable likenesses of the subject, but usually with many of their least flattering features exaggerated for comic effect. It can be a good laugh. Or it can sometimes hurt a bit, if the subject lacks self confidence.

And so we have the Virginia Tech massacre, and the media frenzy. I mean, really, have you seen anything like it? No, no, I don't mean the tragedy. I mean the media.

Some of you may know that I don't watch TV, don't listen to talk radio, and I don't read the newspaper or weekly news magazines. Ohmigosh, how will I ever know what is going on in the world? Well here is my secret. I subscribe to two free news summaries over the internet (CNN and NYTimes). I receive daily headlines and editorials. Based on the headlines, I decide if an article might be worth reading. Perhaps you can guess that I don't read very many of them.

So yes, I did know about the shooting. But that is all I really needed to know. I could easily predict the media frenzy.

In the comments section of a recent post regarding Attention, an anonymous commenter from the other side of the planet and I veered into this topic area. Feel free to check out that dialog if you like. It is where I realized that what we are seeing on the media is simply that: a caricature of American life, intentionally designed to exaggerate our least flattering features.

[D]o not become trapped. This is NOT America, nor the world. This is a caricature drawn for a single purpose: to titilate, to stimulate, to profit. There is no accuracy to the picture. You know that in your heart. Your experiences tell you that as well. But the infernal drumbeat looking to steal your attention will continue. Just turn it off. That is your choice.

OK, so you know my bias. But what on earth is my point?

Just this: Life as told to you by another person is nothing but a concept. There is nothing real about it. You are distorting what you've been told with your own biases, just as that person distorted his perceptions when forming them into concepts and words. This may be intentional (like much of the media) or not (like a friend trying to make you understand their perspective).

But either way, it is not reality. What you must do is find for yourself your own reality. You must directly experience life, and come to a deeply resonant internal "knowing". Some would call this a mystical experience. Again, this is but another concept, which surely means something different to you than it does to me.

And when I look with mindful attention, when I am present and deeply aware of my surroundings, I can see the pain and the suffering in the world, and I can try to be fully present for it. But I can also see the compassion and the joy, and I can try to be present for that as well. And when I am mindful, I keep noticing beauty and safety and kindness and compassion all around me.

So let's not report on what others see. Let us describe our own experiences.

Let a thousand individual voices create the harmony that reduces the media drumbeat to mere background noise. Which your mind is designed to naturally filter out. Until it might as well no longer exist.

When you see the caricature painted by the media, and the frenzy of talking heads feeding at the trough of sorrow, throw back your head and laugh. It is tragic comedy, not reality. The suffering for the families of the victims, and the family of the killer are real. We can be present for that. Respectful of that. And offer them our love and forgiveness. And one act we can take to help heal our worldly family in this time of sorrow, is to turn off the TV. Just turn it off. Be present for your own family. And begin your own journey of awakening to real life.

Check for messages

Mailboxes, Rockport, MA, August 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f5.6, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Are you checking for your messages? They could be in your mailbox, in that e-mail you just received, perhaps on your voicemail?

Or perhaps with the neighbor you visited, or the bum on the street corner, or maybe your grocery bagger?

Here is a nice little video story about such messages, and the joy it obviously brings to both the giver and the receiver. Imagine such a win-win situation. Yes, it's a little different from the transaction-based mentality of our advertising messages. This is something deeper. Something more connected. From the soul, and for the soul.

Or for wisdom. I remember my kids had a teacher in highschool (or earlier?) that used to start class with WOWs. Words of wisdom. I don't remember now if they discussed them, or if he just left them on the chalk board. But I can tell you that often we discussed them at home. I thought that was a great offering to the students.

Anyway, check out the video and see what you think. It may be a little saccharine for some, but I think you can see the sincerity and the love despite that. And enjoy.

Do you have the time?

Magnificent sunset, Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii, February 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f6.5, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

So tell me ... do you have the time? Time to visit? Time to be aware of the world around you? Would you miss a beautiful sunset like this because of your pre-arranged plans?

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
-- from "Leisure," by W.H. Davies

We've all heard the phrase "it's the journey, not the destination" but how many of us really understand what that means and live by it? How many of us get caught up in the busyness of planning to get to Point X, then traveling to Point X, and finally reminiscing about Point X? All the while missing what might have been in store for us at Point B or on the way to Point G, or while zipping right past Point Q?

(BTW, when trying to spell "busyness", I accidently spelled it "business". I think that is somehow profound.)

I came across this article from the Washington Post today. It's rather long, and knowing you are busy (and might not have the time ;-) I thought I would excerpt a couple of quotes from it.

This is a story. Actually, a well told story of an experiement. Of a world-class violinist positioned as a run-of-the-mill street performer at a busy D.C. metro station. Do you stop and listen? ... What if he's really good? Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn't you?

I wish not to spoil the results of the experiment. You might want to read the article. Over tea, perhaps. When you have a moment. Or two.

The violin is an instrument that is said to be much like the human voice, and in this musician's masterly hands, it sobbed and laughed and sang -- ecstatic, sorrowful, importuning, adoring, flirtatious, castigating, playful, romancing, merry, triumphal, sumptuous. ... So, what do you think happened?

This might cause you to reflect philosophically: What is beauty? Is it a measurable fact (Gottfried Leibniz), or merely an opinion (David Hume), or is it a little of each, colored by the immediate state of mind of the observer (Immanuel Kant)?

How might you have felt, lucky enough to be one of the passer's by during this experiment? Would you really notice? Would it make a difference? The violinist's bow begins to dance; the music becomes upbeat, playful, theatrical, big. ... "Whatever it was," he says, "it made me feel at peace."

Are you sure? Perhaps you have another focus. A hundred feet away, across the arcade, was the lottery line, sometimes five or six people long. They had a much better view ... if they had just turned around. But no one did. Not in the entire 43 minutes. They just shuffled forward toward that machine spitting out numbers. Eyes on the prize.

What kind of tunnel vision do we create for ourselves? Let us not blame it on the work, or the lists, or the destination. "Couple of years ago, a homeless guy died right there. He just lay down there and died. The police came, an ambulance came, and no one even stopped to see or slowed down to look. People walk up the escalator, they look straight ahead. Mind your own business, eyes forward. Everyone is stressed. Do you know what I mean?"

In closing, I'd ask you to reflect on the experiement, and the story. What is it trying to tell you? How do you interpret it? If we can't take the time out of our lives to stay a moment and listen to one of the best musicians on Earth play some of the best music ever written; if the surge of modern life so overpowers us that we are deaf and blind to something like that -- then what else are we missing?

What else indeed. How can we possibly know?

But there is good news here. Really good news. You control the end of this story -- how you choose to treat each passing moment, each glimmer of beauty, each breath-taking sunset. Why not pull up a chair, lean against a wall, turn off the iPod, put down the paper, and have a look and a listen. I promise you -- you won't be dissapointed -- and you do have the time.

Just below the surface

Just below the surface, Souhegan River, Milford, NH, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/60 sec @ f2.8, ISO 50, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Can you hear the gentle rippling of the shallows? You can see by the convergence of diminutive waves and crests? This is the where the current reflects off objects in the stream, and creates the dance of light and sound.

And there, just below the surface, a fallen leaf waits patiently, taking a little respite from its journey down stream. Soon enough, the water will shift again, and an upward current will likely bring it back to the surface. Soon enough — but until then - it is art. We call it art, nay, together, we make it art.

But of course, first we must notice ...

"The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself." -- Henry Miller

And what of it? Well, listen closely. Can you hear the notes ... the melody? I can. So soothing, so moving. As you lean back and soak up the afternoon sun, smell the pine bows, feel the damp soil with your hands, and smile. Something connects. Nothing else to do. Nowhere else to be. This is where you belong, right here, right now.

What of it, indeed ...

It’s waiting for you, just below the surface of our work-a-day world. There, just below the surface, where you are protected from the current that is trying to sweep you along, to jostle for your attention, to whisk your day away, in the never ending lists, and the stuff that must be done.

Listen again, more closely. Isn’t that your song? Don’t you recognize it? It is in us all, somewhere deep within ...

"To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not, rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common--this is my symphony." -- William Henry Channing

Up close and personal #3

Feathered Friend, Amherst, NH, December 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f3.6, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I remember the morning well when I visited with this little fellow. I was out soaking up the early morning sunrise, as the overnight frost was beginning to thaw. And of course I had my camera ;-) Frito was off visiting the neighbors, when I noticed this little bird on the ground, just underneath a cedar tree.

“What are you doing down there?”, I thought, as I snapped a couple of pictures. And as one with a camera is wont to do, I kept inching my way closer, waiting for him to fly to the safety of an upper branch. But he did not move. “He must be injured,” I thought. I lay down on the ground (bathrobe and all ;-) and looked closely at him, but could not see any injuries. So I snapped a few more pictures — this is one of them. I love how you can see the detail of the feathers, fluffed up on his chest, to give him some insulation from the December chill.

“What should I do? Get a shoe box and take him inside?”, I wondered. As I headed toward the house, after visiting with him for 5 or 10 minutes, he just flew away. Clearly not injured. Why he was warming himself on the ground, and why he was so trusting, I do not know. But I was happy for the visit.

++++++++++
This past weekend, my wife and I repaired a bunch of broken bird feeders we had kept in the garage, and now have them swinging to and fro in our front and back yards. We must have over a dozen now. And the offspring of this little slate-colored junco are flittering all over, enjoying plenty of food, joined by the occasional cardinal, woodpecker, goldfinch, and chickadee.

And speaking of chickadees, I came across this story as I was flying over to Japan (and yes, you can definitely call me a frequent flyer). See what you think — I enjoyed it ...

++++++++++
Frequent Flyer -- by Bob Perks
A bird at my feeder clearly had a message for me. What was it?

I had seen him before. In fact, I believe now that, after seeing him nearly every time I go into the backyard, that there is a purpose in our meeting so often.

I speak to you of signs, verbal nudging, brilliant, glowing, attention- grabbing moments, that make me aware that God is trying to say something to me. But there are also subtle, seemingly insignificant occurrences that may in fact, bring even more important issues to light.

He sent me a feather.

"Oh, Bob, there are feathers all over the yard around bird feeders," you might reply. That's true. So what is so significant about this one?

The tiny bird handed it to me.

"Okay, too much medication, Bob!"

It is most likely the fact that because I am back to my old self, I have once again found life in the smallest of things. Most of which goes unnoticed.

A chickadee. A black-capped chickadee. Not any bird. But the same one over and over.

How can that be? How could I possibly know one from another? This one has one good leg. The other is crippled and held close to the body. The very first time I noticed it, I was amazed by the perfect balance and ease this bird expressed in doing what every other chickadee does.

I have made it a point to stand just a few feet away from the feeders so I can see them close up. The only birds that appear unaffected by my presence are the chickadees and an occasional sparrow.

My one legged friend always stops by. We talk. Yes, it's true. I make a high-pitched "beep, beep beep," sound and he responds. My friend even dances from pole to pole on the feeder, finally grabbing a sunflower seed and vanishing to the nearby holly bushes and back again.

"How do you do it?" I asked. "You are limited and not the same as all the others." He teases me and jumps back and forth to show off his power to adapt.

Every single time I walk out there, he appears. Every single time I stand there, amazed by his ability to be what he was created to be no matter what limits were placed on his life.

"I see you and want to be that brave," I said. The thought then came to me that perhaps he looks at me and thinks I'm limited because I cannot fly.

"Oh, my friend. I would give anything to fly!" I said, and walked back into the house. Later in the early evening, as a part of my regular routine, I went back to the feeders, filled them, added water to the bird bath, and waited. As always my feathered friend appeared.

"Beep, beep, beep beep!" I said. He quickly darted back and forth showing off a bit. For the first time he came close enough that I could almost touch him. The right leg was indeed damaged beyond use.

"Fly for me, please, and take my spirit with you so I can soar in my dreams tonight."

This will be hard for anyone to believe, but trust me I thought it to be amazing, too. He tucked his head under his right wing and plucked a feather. Looking at me as he nervously cocked his head back and forth, he released the tiny feather from his mouth.

What seemed to me like a dreamy slow-motion moment, I watched the feather falling and reached my hand to catch it. Looking down into the palm of my hand, I thought I saw the tiny feather appear to glow in contrast. I looked back up at my "frequent flyer friend," and said "Thank you!"

Now, as silly as this may seem to you, I see it as a precious gift from God. For I had asked my friend to take my spirit soaring and he in turn gave me a feather so I could fly. "It won't get me off the ground!" I said, laughing.

"But it is a beginning. A little piece of a dream to prove there are no limits to the abilities you have been given," the Voice said to me.

The only limits that exist are the ones you choose to accept.

So, fly!

Crying wolf

Modestly Priced, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/166 sec @ f3.0, ISO 100, no flash, some post-processing color adjustment © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I love this photo. I remember the store display -- it certainly had me do a double-take. I thought of that the other day when I read a NY Times editorial regarding advertising techniques, and the effect of trickery on our collective psyche. One quote from the editorial:

What happens to us when greed masquerades as need, when cries for help become casting calls for chumps, when our most noble actions make us patsies?

It's an interesting question. I don't know about you, but I can remember as a kid, telling myself to not be so gullible, and to keep myself on-guard for various pranks and tricks. Makes one grow up, I suppose. Prepares us for a rough-and-tumble world. But the loss of innocence is somewhat sad, upon reflection. Of course, just who were the perpetrators -- other children.

So should it be any surprise then if the charade continues later in life? Should we feel any regret if we harden our outer shell to protect us from such continued trickery and manipulation. In fact, we are constantly told to be on guard, to protect ourselve and indeed, our very identities, from those willing to take advantage of us. Lock your doors. Screen your calls. Buy a shredder.

Prudent action I am quite sure. But I worry about the hardening. As the editorial demonstrates, such trickery can cause us to curtail our natural generosity and compassion. Perhaps. But it is our choice how we will respond. Will we become hardened? Or just redouble kindness. Will we turn the proverbial other cheek? That is my choice. And no one can take that choice away from me.

Here's to hoping our random acts of kindness and charity make this world a little kinder, and a little gentler. But either way, I'm happy with my choice. How about you? And if cynicism rears its head, I always take refuge in this classic poem:

Anyway

People are often unreasonable,
illogical, and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,
people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful,
you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building,
someone could destroy overnight.
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today,
people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
and it may never be enough;
Give the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis
it is between you and God;
it was never between you and them anyway.
Note: this poem is typically attributed to Mother Teresa, probably because it is reported to hang in an orphanage in Calcutta, India. However, it seems to have been originally written by Kent M. Keith, while a 19 year-old student at Harvard University. You can read more here if you are interested. I found this extract from his interview to be noteworthy:

Lynn Green: How can we keep from becoming cynical in this crazy world?

Kent M. Keith: Cynics think the worst of people. It often strikes me that cynics are disappointed believers. They want to believe in people, but then become disappointed. Cynicism is the pose they adopt to cover their disappointment. We won't become cynics if we live our most cherished values, stay close to our families and friends and do our personal best. If we live that way, we will begin to notice others who live that way, and our sense of trust in human nature and people's motives, our own and others', will grow.

Attention, please

Morning Flower Arrangement, Anantara Resort, Chiang Saen, Thailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/80 sec @ f2.8, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Can I have your attention please? Do you see our gardener in the picture, at the Anantara Resort in Thailand? He is very focused on his task -- creating a beautiful floating flower arrangement. Not a cell phone in one hand, palm pilot in the other, nor iPod buds in his ears.

I was just reading this NY Times article about multitasking. It did, of course, point out the dangers of distraction of multitasking while driving, or even just crossing the road. And then it went on to try and quantify from a business perspective the impact of letting yourself be interrupted by e-mail. (Yawn. Why must it always be about business.)

But I found this quote rather fascinating:

The human brain, with its hundred billion neurons and hundreds of trillions of synaptic connections, is a cognitive powerhouse in many ways. “But a core limitation is an inability to concentrate on two things at once,” said René Marois, a neuroscientist and director of the Human Information Processing Laboratory at Vanderbilt University.

Think about that for a minute. We have all heard and perhaps taken for granted that we underutilize our brains. That they are capable of much more than we ask of them. But perhaps, that is much more focused awareness on a single moment. And the next.

Now clearly our brain-body has multiple processing sections. It keeps our heart beating, our lungs breathing, and the rest of our autonomic nervous system running beautifuly in the background while our conscious mind is left free to ponder the next big thing.

But isn't that your experience? That at any moment, your conscious mind is only (can only be) focused on one thing at a time. That's the central processor that is controlling your perception of the Now moment.

And one more thing. If you want to really blow your mind, you can actually stop your thoughts entirely. No, not by sleeping ;-) But by being very accutely and actively aware. Try this experiement.

In a calm, quiet location, after sitting quietly for a while (meditate if you know how), place all of your awareness toward "Speak, I am listening". Don't think about that thought, but rather, actively set your mind to be "listening". Not your ears, but your mind. This conscious awareness of "Speak, I am listening" forestalls your own thoughts as you rest in awareness.

In the beginning, you will be lucky to get a few moments of thought-free time. Your mind will take over and begin its cogitation. But over time, you can extend this period, and then learn to just release each of your thoughts as they arise, and return to the awareness "speak, I am listening".

And so what? Only this: you will actually see your own thoughts arise. And when you do, you will realize that the thinker and the Seer are not the same. It is a peek into a wonderous reality, but we will save that discussion for another time. (You can read more about some aspects of a related experience in a previous blog entry.)

In the meantime, just realize that your conscious mind focuses on one moment at a time. And this is entirely consistent with Life, which is lived only Now. And Now. And Now.

Still Water

Still water, Tucker Pond, Warner, NH, October 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/625 sec @ f3.4, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

We are a generation, and a people, exposed to more information than at any time before in our brief human existence. And the rate of change has been absolutely fantastic. Truly unbelievable. Is it for good, or for ill? Well, of course, like everything in life, it is neither, and at the same time, it is both. That is, there is nothing intrinsically good or bad about this availability/onslaught (depending on your bias) of information. And of course, it can contribute to both significant good, or possible ill.

Take our mental health, for example. What is the effect of being bombarded by mass media messages of world-wide disasters, environmental peril, never-ending desire for more, juxtaposed with unimaginable poverty elsewhere in the world? It is hard for some to just turn this off -- or to consciously choose which information spigots they wish to open. But I would strongly encourage such control -- in this case, we are more in charge than we sometimes care to admit.

But what if the overhwelming message we get is one of despair? One of concern, about ourselves, our family, or our children's children? Well, if you haven't read this poem, perhaps you will find wisdom in its words. A balm for our overstimulated, overloaded psyches. Breathe deeply. Find peace and quiet. And if possible, let nature offer her suggestions:

The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

The Butterfly Effect - take 2

Butterfly wings, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/290 sec @ f2.8, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

You've heard of The Butterfly Effect, right? Chaos theory, large effects from very small differences in initial conditions, etc. I've even blogged about it before. Well, I just saw a movie by that same title. Now, I'm not going to recommend the movie, per se, but do want to talk about the underlying message.

Why am I not recommending the movie? Well, it is hard to watch at some points. Not for any graphic violence, but instead for some of the physcological inferences. In fact, my wife "walked out" of it (and we were watching it at home ;-) But also, she left at the toughest part it turns out -- the story was just beginning to be told. And upon reflection, it was understandable why they played those heavy-handed cards. Again, I'm not recommending it per se, but I did like the deep, underlying message.

Which was what, exactly? Well, that small differences in initial conditions can have a dramatic impact on people's lives -- yours and others -- in the future. In fact, you are creating that future through the decisions that you make (or don't make) at every moment.

Now this may sound like some new age mumbo jumbo. But just the other day I was reading one of the e-mail missives that I regularly receive, and it was telling a story of profound effects very specific moments can make on people. Consider this seemingly trivial case:

In another case, we asked Kristin, a management consultant, "What is the greatest recognition you have ever received?" Her answer: "Three words in an e-mail." We then found out that when Kristin's mother passed away, a mentor at work whom Kristin had admired throughout her career wrote her a special note. Her mentor's e-mail concluded by saying: "Your mother was very proud of you, and so am I." After 25 years with her company, three simple words carried more meaning than any other recognition Kristin had received in her entire life.

Now there is no way to know which moments will have profound effects. So to me that indicates we need to live from the perspective of 'cause', and not 'effect'. 'Means', and not the 'ends'. What actions are we taking, what decisions are we making, today, right now? Regardless of whether they will be monumental ones in the end or not (for there is no way to know that now). But you have to realize that each moment can potentially have a dramatic effect on someone's life -- and possibly your own.

Like the bishop in Les Miserables. When Jean Valjean is captured by the constables for stealing silverware, and instead of confirming that truth, the bishop creates the potential for another reality when he offers the candlesticks as well, and tells Valjean that he has a soul. Sure, that is fiction (and perhaps a bit too religious for some), but you can imagine or perhaps know yourself situations that have helped to turn around individuals lives that seemed otherwise lost. Oh, the power of those moments and those decisions.

So what is the real point? Only this: seen from this perspective -- every moment, every decision, nay, every life -- plays an essential role in creating our reality. Even death itself will influence the course of events.

Your existence matters, perhaps more than you can imagine. And with that awesome power, comes an equally awesome responsibility. To choose wisely. To awaken to this reality. And to realize the gift you have been given, no matter your circumstances, and to let it form a foundation of gratitude and compassion. For the life you save may not just be your own.

Swan Reflection

Swan Reflection, Imperial Palace, Tokyo, Japan, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 75mm, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f5.3, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Which is real -- the swan or its reflection? Of course, they both are "real", right? But you cannot have the reflection without the swan, so perhaps the swan is "more real"? Or perhaps I have to ask instead about the water, since without the water, there is no medium for reflection?

Step back further and ask about the observer. If there is no one to see the reflection, does it exist? Depending on the angle of the observer, and the sun, one may or may not see a reflection. Or one observer may see it, and one in another location, may not.

I think the answer is that the only thing which is real is the observer-swan-water-sun-reflection-etc... combination. Remove any one of this endless chain of being, and what you see here will not have ever existed. It is that level of dependency, that cocreativity, which really defines being.

So what does that mean? Well, it means, essentially, that you cannot "really" cut up the world into separate subjects and objects. The swan does not exist in isolation. Just like its reflection. Nor do you.

Think of the swan as a energy perturbation in a continuum known (for the moment) as the universe. That energy perturbation will be perceived differently by different observers (and their sensory organs). So the only correct explanation is the subject-object combination itself. And this continues ad infinitum, until it engulfs the entire universe. No subjects. No objects. Only being.

Enough of the physics (or metaphysics). What of the beauty? Is it inate? Inherent in the swan? Or its reflection? Or the photograph?

I don't think so -- the beauty is in you, the viewer. Either it is beautiful to you, or it is not. This is a purely subjecive aspect -- yes, one that can be shaped by convention and norms -- but subjective, nonetheless.

So is the beauty "real"? Surely someone can tell you they know beauty when they see it -- it is not a random occurance. It could be tested and is repeatable. And I hope this particular image represents something beautiful to you ;-)

And yet, some people say they see beauty everywhere. Even in what other people "typically" think of as ugly. In death. In squalor. In war. Why do these people see so much more beauty than the "average" person? And is that "real"? Can one be "trained" to see more beauty? Will it come about from other personal changes? From what some call enlightenment?

I don't know. But I do know that depending on my outlook, my perspective, my attention, my intention ... I will see more or less beauty. And I'm always happiest when I'm surrounded by beauty. Wherever and whenever I am.

Suddenly there came a tapping ...

Gobble, Gobble, Amherst, NH, March 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 200mm, Exposure 1/50 sec @ f5.7, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I had a rather interesting couple of visitors today.

But to explain, let me use my pictures, and someone else's words (well, mostly).

With soooooo many apologies to Mr. Poe ...


Once upon a workday dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious e-mails, just cause for snore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my office door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my office door -
Only this, and nothing more.' ...


... Back into my office turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, 'with a furtive glance, someone's at my patio entrance;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!' ...


... Open here I flung the handle, surely t'was a feathered vandal,
In there stepped a stately gobbler of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, gamely crossed my office door -
With his friend, crossed the threshold of my office door -
Came to visit, for a moment, nothing more.

Early cherry blossoms

Early Blossoms, Koishikawa Botanical Garden, Tokyo, Japan, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 200mm, Exposure 1/80 sec @ f5.6, ISO 200, with flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

During a recent trip to Japan, a couple of friends and I took our cameras to a botanical garden to take some pictures. The plum blossoms were out, as was expected, but these are cherry blossoms and are unusually early. Probably a unique species.

All I know is that I was appreciative of the color and faux springtime. Enjoy this reminder -- Spring is just around the corner!

Patterns finale - illusion

Mosaic, Taj Mahal, Agra, India, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/350 sec @ f5.0, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

In closing out this week's series, it is interesting to consider illusions. Seeing things that are not really there. Like this medievil flooring, clearly laid in two-dimensions but with colors and contrasts that give it a three-dimensional appearance.

Well, now that we know the trick, it is clear, right? And we would never make the mistake again, right? Ha. We are more easily fooled than that, and every day.

For example, we have a full moon tonight. If you have clear skies, get outside tonight and watch the moon rise over the horizon. It's an enormous orb as it clears the tree line. Come back in a few hours and look up to see how much smaller it has become. Why? Just another optical illusion dealing with relative size comparisons. You can thank your mind.

And while you are looking up at the night sky, notice both the large number of stars, and the vastness of space that separates each star. Now consider your own body, or that rock on the ground. Solid and dense, right? Actually, we also are mostly "empty space" if we consider the fundamental building blocks that constitute our physical nature.

But then, that also depends upon the lens with which we examine life. Are we looking at particles or waves? Energy or matter? As you probably know from introductory physics, they are just different manifestations of the same thing. So in a large degree, what we see "out there" really is just an illusion -- made to look real to our senses.

Just like the clever use of color and contrast in the mosaic on the floors surrounding the Taj Mahal to create an illusion to our eyes. So it is that much that we see as "real" in this world, is really just an illusion to our senses.

You may find it useful to question that which you experience as "real", "absolute", "fixed", or "truth". Or you may be happier just accepting what your senses tell you about the world. Personally, I enjoy them both -- the beauty my senses take in, and the beautiful enigma which lies behind it all.

Patterns - weathered

Weathered shakes, Pickity Place, Mason, NH, January 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/135 sec @ f2.8, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Sometimes the years leave their tell-tale signs upon us. Sometimes we try to hide it -- cover it up with a new coat of varnish, as it were. Othertimes we are willing to let our age show.

It differentiates us from the young and inexperienced. And in the end, the only thing that will avoid it showing is an early demise, and who wants that?

To me I see character in those lines and wrinkles. I see experience and wisdom. I see understanding and compassion. I see warmth and comfort. (Interestingly, I didn't see all that until I started to develop those lines and wrinkles myself -- hmmm.)

Before our mass media took control of our lives, there was a time when age was honored, perhaps even revered. Somone had to have lived life's lessons, and be willling to pass them down.

Ask yourself how you view aging. Is it a path to be respected and honored, or one to be covered up and hidden?

Perhaps that inquiry will cause you to question our culture's message. We might just benefit from a little more wisdom these days.

Patterns - color

Colorful Kayaks, Rockport, MA, August 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/125 sec @ f7.1, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Life is full of color, isn't it? And by noticing it, our lives are just a bit richer.

If we open our minds up a little, we can realize just how much color there is out there. The colors we can see with our eyes are limited to a very narrow spectrum of electromagnetic radiation. From about 400-700 nanometers (millionths of a meter) in wavelength.

But of course, this is just a part of a much larger spectrum, that includes lower frequency waves (longer wavelengths) that we pick up as vibration, slightly higher ones that we detect as sound, still higher ones that carry information to our radios and TVs, very high energy ones that produce X-rays, and higher still like gamma rays from cosmic events.

So while we see the richness of color in this world, keep in mind that we are seeing a pitifully small section of the true richness of "color" that bombards our world and our bodies every day.

So why not keep your mind open to the true vastness of the world we live in, and see just how colorful it can be?

Patterns - perspective

London Eye, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/100 sec @ f2.8, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Ever notice how things look differently when viewed from another perspective? How can that be? Same thing -- looked at from two vantage points -- and it looks different? Just what is real, then?

Well, this isn't quite as philosophical as it sounds. Scientists from the last century finally figured this out. The term is relativity, and it means that everything depends -- yes Everything -- on our frame of reference. This is not some mystic's viewpoint, but scientific, measured, proven results.

Take this bicycle wheel. Obviously the camera is set low on the ground, giving it the appearance of enourmous size, right? You can see the axle, the spokes, the tire rim. And what are those things around the tire anyway? Ha, ha. You could tell, I'm sure, that this is really the London Eye. Not a bicycle tire at all, but a massive ferris wheel that just happens to look like one, from the right perspective.

So when you are so sure that you have found the truth. And you find yourself becoming quite righteous about it. Think for a minute that it might only be "right" relative to your persective. And then try (and this is hard) to see it from another's perspective. Perhaps that is "right" also. The world really does work like that. Really.

Patterns - repetition

Window washer, Tokyo, Japan, March 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f4.7, ISO 120, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Ever find yourself in a rut? Unwittingly doing the same things over and over? Perhaps mastering your area of expertise, but loathe to get out there and try something new?

We can easily fall into these patterns of repeated behavior. Develop a routine. Live within our comfort zone. But it has always been my experience that somewhere in the background is a distant, quiet call for something different. Not necessarily a critical voice, just one pulling us forward, reminding us that this is the only life we get, and that we might as well find/create our own path.

So when you see yourself (as you do just that -- by stepping back as a witness), becoming trapped by the confines of a repetitive activity, as time march on, or the opportunities slide by, ask yourself just why you are limiting yourself in that manner.

And ask if the comfort of that routine is equivalent to the potential opportunities, new vistas, and unexpected beauty that waits around the alley way or back road toward a new destination. Of course, you can never fully analyze the known against the unknown. And in that uncertainty awaits some of the inherent beauty as well.

Patterns - exotic

Color of India, Akbar's Tomb, Sikandara, India, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/325 sec @ f4.7, ISO 115, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Patterns are everywhere. But sometimes they seem "different". A little foreign. A bit exotic. And how does that make you feel?

Do you fear that with which you are not familiar? Perhaps you feel like an outsider -- not party to the customs and traditions. Of course, it may be difficult if not impossible to communicate using words. But, if you can get into the right mindset, that might even be an advantage. We've talked before how words can get in the way of profound observations and insights.

One unmistakable trend in our lives today is that the world is getting smaller. We are becoming more globally connected. More people have the means and wherewithal to travel to distant lands. More unique goods from remote provinces are now as close as your mouse and internet connection. Crude translation tools are available to get at least the jist of the message. And in many of our larger cities, you will find collections of immigrants, often working hard to maintain their traditions, their unique clothing, and customs.

To me it is something to embrace, rather than fear. (Although that fear may be instinctual, so it will require active awareness on your part.) It helps us recognize what we have in common as well as what is unique about each of us. We have in common our humanity. Our desire to avoid suffering. And from this shared humanity, we have the potential to find common ground. To act for the greater good. To embrace our brothers and sisters, no matter their nationalities, their faiths, their traditions.

Beyond this planet there are billions and billions of miles of cold dark space. Right here, right now, there are billions and billions of human beings. Do you see that we are made from the same cosmic stuff? And that which has made us "different" is so small compared to that which has made us the same. Those differences add color and pattern to life, like the spices we add to our food, to improve the flavor. Embrace those differences. Explore them. Look deeply into them. And see in their eyes the same longing they see in yours.

This week - Patterns

Saffron skies and steel, Tokyo Dome Park, Tokyo, Japan, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 200mm, Exposure 1/2500 sec @ f6.3, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Let's try that series idea again, shall we? This week, we'll explore patterns.

We all fall into patterns of behavior, right? Old habits die hard, they say. And yet, you are not trapped by them. They need not control you. You need only to be aware of them, and to have the intention to change them. Those two perceptions, and you are well on your way to changing your behavior.

What are these patterns, anyway? They are imprints, I suspect. Neural connections that have been created and reinforced through repeated behavior. Thanks to positive or negative reinforcement. Either by others, or by yourself. And we know that these connections can be changed.

But it does take effort on your part. First comes awareness. You must wake up -- become conscious of your actions -- and then quiet your mind so that you can witness the patterned behavior. Not sure you can do that? It is most certainly possible -- that is one of the primary outcomes from meditation. But you need not sit on the cushion and chant. Some people do it while running. Others ponder a deep thought. Still others contemplate. Many find it easier when alone, perhaps in tune with nature.

Once you realize that you can witness your behavior as it arises, you realize that you are not that. And with this realization comes the possibility of setting a different intention. Then as the witness, you can act -- rather than react -- to the patterned behavior, and choose a different response. It is really very empowering. Give it a try sometime.

And back to the pattern in the picture. Can you tell what it is? Well, this time there was some post-photo processing. The day was overcast, and the sun was all but lost behind the clouds. And it was grey, grey, grey.

But by selecting some alternate colors, and playing with the saturation, contrast, and exposure, and cropping and reorienting the photo -- voila -- a new pattern was created. And the structure that is causing the pattern? A roller coaster track that is really quite a bit steeper. Just goes to show -- patterns are there to be changed, if you want. Create something new. You have that power.

The possibilities are numerous once we decide to act and not react. -- George Bernard Shaw

Texture finale - warm and fuzzy

Oriental grasses, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/617 sec @ f5.0, ISO 86, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

We are wrapping up this week-long Texture series with something warm and fuzzy.

Sometimes, warm and fuzzy just feels nice. It welcomes you -- trying not to resolve issues -- not to confront issues -- but just to welcome you and the issues to relax.

Can you feel the warmth of the sun shining down on you? Hear the gentle breeze as it whispers to all of the grasses -- "move this way, now that way, back and forth," and you move to the rhythm as well. Can you touch them, in your mind's eye, and feel them tickle your palms as they sway and rustle.

Once more, the flow is illustrated. In many ways, with many metaphors. Find that flow. Be that flow. And you will gain that warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside, as you recognize your Self in every beautiful moment.

Texture - connections

Connections, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/50 sec @ f2.6, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Have you ever noticed that everything is connected? Oh sure, we say that "metaphorically", but just as this plant illustrates, that is actually how we are created. Take a look.

I see roadways -- multilaned interstate highways, connecting to busy communting arteries, fed by county, and city, and township roads. You've seen that, right?

Or connections via the information superhighway, with hyperlinks, leading from heavily trafficed web-sites to rarely visited or specialized blogs.

Or waterways -- small rivulets feeding brooks and stream, ultimately flowing into mighty rivers and commerce waterways.

And also in ways we cannot "see". Like quiet voices and resolute opinions influencing groups of people to take action. Or actions take over here, that through some unseen, multi-step process, eventually have impacts and consequences way over here -- never even imagined.

You see, connections represent one of the greatest textures of our life. And to remember that they are both seen and unseen, and are ever present, gives us something to always keep in mind. You really are connected to it all.

Texture - what's in focus?

What's in focus?, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/120 sec @ f2.8, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Another aspect of life's texture (at least to me), is the quantity of phenomena that you are exposed to, and the subset that you choose to focus on. Think of it -- you are constantly bombarded by sensations, images, feelings, voices (internal and external), and you cannot possibly focus on all of them. You must choose to filter, and choose to focus.

And it is my belief that what you choose to focus on will in large measure determine the character of your world. That's right. We are all potentially exposed to myriad messages, and some people tune in and react to one set, and other people focus on and react to another set.

No, this doesn't mean you create the weather. But it will influence whether you find the raindrops bothersome or joyous. It really depends on what you focus on, and how you choose to process that which you allow yourself to receive. So choose wisely. This fundamental "intention" will in large measure determine your happiness.

Texture - holding hands

Holding hands, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/90 sec @ f2.8, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Growing. Together. Living. Side-by-side. That's what we are all doing. With each other. And with nature.

So come on, take someone's hand and hold it. Care for others, rather than only self. Show compassion. Befriend all things.

If we are going to live this close together, we might as well be friends.

So the texture here is in our relationships. How are yours? Are the deep? Are they broad? And are they a source of joy? If not, you may wish to consider a change in how you view or value relationships.

Because, in the end, no man is an island. Everything truly is connected. Why not celebrate and take advantage of that reality? And walk hand in hand as you care for one another.

Texture - the unfurling

The unfurling, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/125 sec @ f2.8, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Another aspect of the texture of life to me is change.

It is fascinating when one just sits quietly and observes that everything is in motion, nothing is fixed, everything is changing. It's almost hard to wrap your mind around that.

Because our minds have been trained to observe, classify, and label. Not only do we tend to see things as fixed, but "if you've seen one, you've seen them all".

But of course, life is precisely the opposite of that. Like snowflakes, no two "things" are ever alike. Even moment to moment, no single "thing" is ever alike. Not even you.

And so, the unfurling continues. And the rich texture can be seen. Blessed.

Texture - the underside

The underside, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/100 sec @ f2.8, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Ah yes, the underside. Often dark and dank and really rather something to avoid.

Unless of course there is some illumination -- bringing the underside into the light.

Then you can see that it too is a part of life, and if carefully examined, can in fact be beautiful as well. And most defintiely part of our "texture". Yes, I want the complete package.

This week - Texture

Ferns and Water Drops, Kew Gardens, London, England, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/85 sec @ f2.8, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This week, I think, a collection of photos that capture a sense of texture. They are all from a recent trip to London, and a visit while there to Kew Gardens.

Texture, to me, is a catch-all that represents a certain depth to life. It represents not only seeing things, but taking in clues from your other senses. Tasting the warm, humid air, smelling the rich soil and moss, hearing the misters watering the plants, feeling the feathery edges of the ferns.

It is amazing, isn't it, how so much of that is lost in a simple photograph. But hopefully, these will try to evoke some of those senses as you consider the texture of the plants you see, and the play of light and color in the image itself.

Bent, but not broken

Bent, but not broken, Amherst, NH, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 90mm, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f5.3, ISO 200, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This picture is after our recent ice storm, that took down many trees and even more limbs. Typically, birches are one of the first to go, since they have many delicate branches that just collect the ice. This one doesn't look too good, but at least it didn't break. Will it ever fully recover?

I don't know. There is the saying "that which does not break me, makes me stronger." We'll have to see if that applies to trees.

Dark and stormy?

Dark and Stormy?, Amherst, NH, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 62mm, Exposure 1/4000 sec @ f32.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -5 stops, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Looks like a rather ominous full moon peering through stormy clouds, doesn't it?

Actually, it was my first day out with my new camera, and I was playing with the settings. If you look at the exposure info, you'll see a very fast shutter, very high f-number (which implies very, very bright conditions), and then a maximum under-exposire bias of 5 f-stops.

This was actually a photo looking directly into the sun as it broke through some clouds.

Ah well, it gives me some understanding of the range and potential of this new tool. I'm expecting to have lots of fun.

Steamin'

Steamin', Washington, DC, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 80mm, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f5.3, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

OK, so here's the story. I have a new camera, right? So it seemed logical that I would take it down to Washington, DC for my work trip. Maybe I could get into the city at night and take some cool photos.

While traveling between meetings, I see this steam rising from out on a public road, and thought it looked rather cool (or hot ;-) So I walked over and started taking pictures. Then all of a sudden I hear "Hey you, with the camera!" Uh oh.

Turns out security people really don't like you taking pictures (even in public streets) within eye shot of the Pentagon. Fortunately, I was able to show what I photographed (ah, the joys of a digital camera), and even offered to erase the memory card, but was given the "all clear" when he could see they were just close-up pictures of the steam.

I guess I'll leave the camera in the bag next time. Rest assured your security folks remain vigilent.

True Colors

True Colors, Mont Vernon, NH, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 22mm, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f8.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, circular polarizing filter © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Still playing with the new camera. It was a beautiful crisp winter's day, so I took Frito out for a drive/walk/photo shoot (for those that aren't familiar with Frito, you can check out his blog).

Colors are so amazing. They get enhanced by the use of a polarizing filter, or perhaps better to say, their true colors shine through the glare of the sun and snow. As you can see in this picture.

So in the immortal words of Cindy Lauper, Phil Collins, the Olympics, and Kodak (and a raft of others) ...

True Colors, written by Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly

...
But I see your true colors
shining through
I see your true colors
and that's why I love you
so don't be afraid to let them show
your true colors
true colors are beautiful
like a rainbow
...

Happy Valentine's Day

Sunshine for a Frog, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/720 sec @ f4.5, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

To my special love, my best friend, and my wife ...

I am the frog in the background,
who thanks to you,
feels just like a prince

And you are the radiant lily in the foreground,
forever brightening my day, and
sharing your beauty with everyone that you meet

And in the words of Stevie Wonder:

You are the sunshine of my life
Thats why I'll always be around,
You are the apple of my eye,
Forever you'll stay in my heart

I feel like this is the beginning,
Though I've loved you for a million years,
And if I thought our love was ending,
I'd find myself drowning in my own tears.

You are the sunshine of my life,
Thats why I'll always stay around,
You are the apple of my eye,
Forever you'll stay in my heart,

You must have known that I was lonely,
Because you came to my rescue,
And I know that this must be heaven,
How could so much love be inside of you?

You are the sunshine of my life, yeah,
Thats why I'll always stay around,
You are the apple of my eye,
Forever you'll stay in my heart.

Out of kilter

Out of Kilter, Mont Vernon, NH, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f8.0, ISO 200, exposure bias -2/3 stop, no flash, polarizing filter, © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Ever get that "out of kilter" feeling? When for whatever reason, you are not standing as straight and tall as you'd like? Fighting against something -- nature, wind, time? Perhaps your foundation is not well prepared.

Sounds like a wake-up call to me. A warning that someting is not right -- perhaps not in alignment with your core beliefs, your intentions, your heart.

Hey, I consider that good news. It means we are designed with a feedback loop that helps us course-correct. Shore up the foundation. Apply a little TLC. And the sooner the corrections are made, the better off you'll be. Before too much damage is done. Before someone comes by to condemn.

Blessed is the wake-up call. Perhaps it is even divine. Who knows -- but welcome it.

Gnarly fingers

Sugar Maples, Souhegan River Trail, February 2007, Nikon D40 with 18-200mm VR lens, Focal length 18mm, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f7.1, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Sugar maples, dark and shadowy
Gnarly fingers, and crooked grip
Covet but a warm spring canopy
Now the sap runs, drip, drip, drip

Darkness follows, wintery twilight
Clearing clouds, remove their wrap
Until the dawn brings warmth of skylight
Branch tips chatter, tap, tap, tap

Swan contrast

Swan contrast, Hyde Park, London, England, February 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f8.0, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

While I await to gather up some new photos with my new camera, I thought I'd reach back into my archives and see what those little point and shoots could deliver. Here's one I like (with a little post processing to dial up the contrast).

Will there be many differences? You bet. This picture is only a megapixel. It wouldn't blow up very well. And frankly the digital noise would become quite bothersome on anything over ISO 100.

If I recall correctly, this state-of-the-practice point and shoot cost almost as much as my new Nikon D40 dSLR. Gotta love that kind of progress. It is truly amazing how far they've come with digital technology in four short years. And of course, the tools will continue to improve.

But don't wait around -- because in the meantime -- both "art" and memories are waiting to be made.

Glass fusion

Glass fusion, Amherst, NH, February 2007, Nikon D40, Exposure 1/125 sec @ f5.6, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Well, I got a new camera yesterday. This is just a sample photo as I was testing it out. It's really cool -- my first dSLR.

I can only guarentee there will be MORE photos in the future. We'll have to wait and see if any of them are any good. Wish me luck.

Weathered

Weathered, Rockport, MA, March 2004, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f4.2, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Are you looking a little weathered? Is your paint beginning to peel? Are your shingles all intact?

Chances are, if you have any life experience points at all, you've been exposed to the weather of life, and have some tell-tale signs. Maybe you should get resided? Scrape off the old and throw on a new coat of paint? What do you think? Madison Avenue would be pulling for you.

Or maybe, just maybe, you kinda like the look. It acknowledges the experiences you've gained over the years. Would you trade those in? Most people I've talked to -- myself included ;-) -- wouldn't trade that wisdom for anything. At least that's true for people who have been growing and gaining insights throughout their lives.

It makes living so much more rewarding. Less taken for granted. More depth to each experience. With a soul that shines through.

That's what I see in this building -- lots of soul. A neat, funky place that would just be fun to poke around in. Find the shop owner and have a cup of tea. Share stories and wisdom.

Yep, a little weathered over here. Thank God.

Love is all there is

Butterfly Love, Chiang-Saen, Thailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/160 sec @ 2.8, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

A tender and delicate butterfly found on the ground, injured and apparently unable to fly. So I picked him up and brought him to my balcony, and placed him in the flower box, seeing if he might be able to take flight. If he could, it was after I had left.

I don’t know about you, but I think he is looking right at me. And saying thanks for the kindness. Perhaps he just hung around until I got a good photo ;-)

"What is called sympathy, kindness, mercy, goodness, pity, compassion, gentleness, humanity, appreciation, gratefulness, service, -- in reality it is love." -- Pir Inayat Khan

Borderline

Borderline, Amherst, NH, January 2007, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f2.8, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I must confess. I really enjoy a good ice storm. So long as it doesn't bring down the power for too long (and sorry, I can only imagine what the utility people go through during and after one).

It's interesting the difference just a degree can make. Right on the borderline. Just a little warmer, and this would be just one more rain storm. Just a little colder and it would have been our biggest snow storm of the season. But instead, the ice just kept collecting and collecting.

Look at the small size of that branch, and yet the thickness of the ice. It took a good many days, lots of sun, and high winds before the trees had shed their icy garments. And talk about beautiful. Wow.

Barn Windows

Barn Windows, Amherst, NH, February 2007, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/715 sec @ f4.7, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Bright sunlight. Freshly stained barn and painted windows. A pretty irresistable combination for someone with a camera.

Look at those windows. Eyes into the barn. Cannot see anything inside. Simply black and white.

No stories here to talk about. Everything has been cleaned up. Hush, hush. Keep moving along.

Interior work

Tulip interior, Anherst, NH, February 2007, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/100 sec @ f2.8, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Our neighbors brought some tulips when they came over for dinner. Very thoughtful. But then, we're blessed with great neighbors.

Tulips can look so different on the surface, than when you look deep inside. Or if you see them only from afar, rather than getting up close and personal. Just like people, it would seem.

Whatever the exteriors might show, look inside for the explosion of color. Deep indigos blend with violet and then a star of white erupts with yellows and blues. And not just colors, but contours and textures and smells. The fullness and the multi-dimensionality. The blending of each shade and hue. The complexity and the simplicity and the miraculous are all found inside.

The interior is worth our time. Don't waste your passing glances on the exterior. Saddle on up and plumb the depths.

Need some help? Finding that a little intrusive? Come on, have another glass of wine. We have all night.

Chilled glass

Chilled glass, Amherst, NH, January 2007, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/150 sec @ f2.8, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Taking a little break from the 'deep thought' entries, and getting back to art for a while. So here we go.

My wife and I were taking an evening stroll, to see what havoc the ice storm was wreaking. I was finishing off my wine from dinner and at the top of the driveway, my wife suggested walking on an icy road with a crystal goblet was not the brightest move I'd ever made.

So I left the wine glass on our stone wall, to pick up when we returned. Except we returned through the fields, and not down the driveway. Once at home, we remembered. "Shouldn't you go and get it?," she asked. "No, I think it will make a cool picture."

You can be the judge. All I know is that I didn't have to bundle up again ;-)

Transformational Life

Visiting Butterfly, Tucker Pond, Warner, NH, July 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f5.6, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp

"And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." -- Anais Nin

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly." -- Richard Bach

"A man with outward courage dares to die. A man with inward courage dares to live." -- Lao Tzu

There is wisdom in these quotes. Just what is life and its purpose anyway? To maximize the number of days on this planet? Or to reach and stretch and grow, by taking risks, by daring to go where others do not, and in the process, to evolve toward something greater than ourselves? Answer that with your actions, not with your thoughts. Through your heart and your love, not your fear.

Life is ever unfolding. Ever expanding. Always changing and frequently challenging. If you fret and worry about the future, you will be paralyzed with fear. But if you focus on the tasks before you in this moment, you will find self-assuredness, confidence and competence to address those challenges. And this will let you cast off your worries, hoist up your inhibitions, and sail out to meet the sweet sunset of eternity.

Sunset and palms, Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii, February 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f4.6, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Your Enemy?

Trick or Treat, Amherst, NH, Halloween 2002, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/10 sec @ f5.0, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Tell me, how do you feel about your enemy?

Who is he? Why is he your enemy?

‘Enemy’ is but a label, like ‘white’, ‘black’ ‘Hispanic’, ‘Jew’, ‘Muslim’, ‘Fundamentalist’. It is a word, a concept — it is not real.

He is not your enemy. He is a human being. He is your brother.

How can this be? You say he wants to kill you! He hates you!

No he doesn’t. He hates his enemy. He wants to kill his enemy. That is what he’s been taught. And so have you.

Likely from your father. From your teacher (or your history books). Perhaps from your religion (or at least its history). Your politicians. The media.

Would you harm your real brother? Would you exact judgment against your true friend? Would you ask him to pay for the sins of his father?

Don’t you see the madness? Don’t you see how we all create this madness in our minds? Wake up! Open your eyes!

But you say he must change first, lest you be harmed. He must prove his peacefulness, while you keep the ability to strike. You are still asleep.

And this bad dream — this nightmare of conflict — will not be over until you see that you and your “enemy” are one. And you have no reason to hurt yourself.

You can hear the small, quiet voice inside. You hear it and know this is truth. You can understand the wisdom. Awaken! And love your enemy as your brother.

There is no other way. There need be no other way. You understand this deep within you. It is time to embrace it.

Seeing Eye to Eye

Seeing Eye to Eye, Four Corners Farm, Milford, NH, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/70 sec @ f3.0, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Where does butter come from? Those of you that have lived a somewhat sheltered life might say the supermarket. But of course, butter comes from cow's milk. Specifically, from the cream portion of the pre-pasturized, non-homogonized natural milk. And notice that no other ingredients are required to make the butter — just skimming and churning.

So if you were to look at some natural cow’s milk, and someone asked you, “is there butter in there?” what would you say? Where else is the butter? Certainly it is not outside the milk. So it seems like the only correct answer is yes, the butter is inside the milk. Additional effort must be applied to get the butter, but it is otherwise wholly contained within the milk.

This illustrates an important example: that you can see (or more generally sense) a thing, and not immediately know its true, or at least complete, nature. You can’t judge a book by its cover. You can’t judge a human only by the actions you have seen. Inside each person, I believe, is some “butter” -- the sweet cream potential, if you will. All that is required is a little effort to bring it to the surface, and to make it manifest. Like the making of butter, it takes the inherent qualities of the milk — its essence — and the application of some effort to bring out these new qualities that were always inside, but remained hidden to the world (and quite likely to the individual himself).

And the effort I am speaking of is a cooperative effort — requiring some interior work by the individual, but is often initiated in the co-creative, intersubjective context of interaction and encouragement from others. Perhaps it comes from reading a book, perhaps from heartfelt discussions, perhaps even from some distressing situation that causes one to wonder just what the meaning of one’s life really is anyways.

So when you see another human being that is not behaving well, or living a life that you have come not to respect, remember there is still “butter” inside. It is inside all of us. It is nothing special, really. It is just the essence of our being, and indeed, our humanity. And consider this ... Perhaps, somehow, you could be a contributor to helping that person manifest his “butter-nature”. Consider that before you judge him harshly. That butter has not yet come from milk in no way means it isn’t in there. It is always in there. Waiting for the right set of conditions, the right application of effort and energy, to emerge.

So work to bring out the “butter” in your life, and if you can be of assistance, in the life of another as well. It is at least a partial answer to that question you’ve been asking. It is one of the reasons you are here.

So ... Let's Really Talk

Damselfly on Flower, Tucker Pond, Warner, NH, July 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/525 sec @ f2.8, ISO 55, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I've posted about something similar to this in the past. The issue of superficial chit-chat. Do you ever feel like you are only getting to see the surfaces, and not the depths, of another being? Do you sometimes want to penetrate their defenses, not to gain an advantage, but just to know their soul?

Well, I came across this story thanks to the random synchronicity of the Internet. (If the 'net doesn’t steal too much of your time, it can be a godsend.) Please take a moment to read the story below, and consider the question. Are you prepared for a heartfelt reply? If so, feel free to share a little in your comments.

With a Little Help from a Stranger -- By Beadrin Youngdahl

I met a friend of a friend when they included me in their lunch plans. My friend is a rare enough bird so I could have anticipated that her friends would rise, exponentially, on the scale of non-traditional species. No surprise, then, when I was led into a home eclectically decorated with exotic remnants of extraordinary places. Not a spoon collection or snow globe in this riverfront bungalow. How about a coconut shell, carved into a totem likeness of my hostess; "a gift from the shaman," she explained casually.

Over lunch I had to pretend perfect calm as I noted not one but four wasps buzzing at the overhead plant in her kitchen. "Oh, those are rescued. I had to save their hive and they live in here and on the patio. They won't hurt you." And they didn't.

She supported herself as a freelance art photographer. Her work was tastefully exhibited in discreet clusters. Her name was something ethereal, full of A's and R's, requiring a leisurely roll about the tongue. She was one of the most genuine humans I had ever chanced to meet.

And so it was that in the presence of the free-range wasp colony, ice water with the freshest twist of lemon and a lunch of hummus on pita bread, this most unusual of creatures turned to me, full and attentive, sincere and with absolute meaning and said, "Tell me about you."

I like to think I'm articulate enough, having suffered enough showers and spousal work gatherings to know small talk with some flair, but nothing prepared me for "Tell me about you."

"Well, I. . . ."

She really wanted to know!

"I guess I'm . . ."

She was still paying attention. She wanted me to tell her about Me.

So, I suppose I stammered about being a nurse or a grandmother or winters in Minnesota. I'm not sure. I was quite unsure of my role in this question, and further, my role in my own world.

It was a take-home gift, that kind query. I don't think I was meant to answer it properly there, or ever, for her.

If I'm not what I do, or a person in a relationship, or a resident of a particular place, but all that and none of that, then tell me about me.

If I could return to that luncheon table, wasps singing above (still safe in her presence, I'm sure), I would try to answer her. I might talk about the things I wish for and the things that make me unexpectedly happy, or the darkest thoughts I've ever had to sweep from my mind. I might tell her the things I pretend to be or to feel or to understand when I really don't believe a bit of it. How about when I should be sad but am really only angry, or when I seem red-hot angry but really feel ice-blue with fear? What if I told her all the things I wonder about and how little I know for sure?

So, on those days when uncertainty reigns supreme and I'm tempted to skitter off into a familiar pattern of internal chaos, I can take myself, for just a moment, back to that warm, blessed kitchen table in the house by the river and begin, "Let me tell you about Me."

I'm the one who needs to attend to the conversation that follows.

Ripples of the Mind

Ripples in autumn, Tucker Pond, Warner, NH, October 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/108 sec @ f3.2, ISO 105, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Those who know me are well aware of my notorious memory (or simply lack thereof). For as long as I can remember (ha!), and seemingly increasingly so in recent years, I just do not recall basic things that have happened to me in the recent past. My family is both frustrated and somewhat humored by this.

I find it at times rather embarrassing (e.g., people who’s names I really should know), but I have come to accept it. Is it the start of a deeper neurological disease? I don’t think so — but who knows? I think of it like the surface of a pond -- the memory of a pebble ripples outward until it is all but gone.

I’ve actually tried to turn this into an advantage. When people tell me old repeat stories, I often hear them as freshly as if it were the first time. When my family describes an old adventure, I take heart not in my recollection of it, but in a manner of experiencing it anew. The more detailed the recollection, the more fun to relive it all over again. Another pebble is tossed into my life, and each time, the mind ripples anew.

Cloud ripples, Amherst, NH, June 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/150 sec @ f4.5, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

And I suspect there is one more factor at work here. I do have a strong desire to live in the present moment, and not dwell upon the past or anticipate the future. So my poor memory serves me well in this objective. And then I came upon this quote, which I think relates quite well to what is going on in my head, however unwittingly:

The mind is your past. Die to your past and you will suddenly become fully conscious. The past is nothing but dead debris. Get rid of it and you will learn how to witness.

When you die to your past, to your thoughts and your memories, then you will be fully in the present. When you truly exist in the present, you are simply witnessing. The past can only exist as long as there are thoughts. When the thoughts are eliminated, the past disappears and you abide in your own Self.

The Self does nothing but witness. The Self is not a person - it is Pure Awareness. It is completely detached from all phenomena. It is the state of becoming the one subject, the core of your existence.

-- Mata Amritanandamayi

The Apple of Knowledge

Apple of knowledge, Cider festival, Amherst, NH, October 2004, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f4.0, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Many of us live as though and think that we are objective in our examination of various ideas and concepts. After all, we’re educated. We’re relatively enlightened. We can consider a point of view free from the bias of our upbringing, and consider it on its inherent merits, even if it tends to benefit “them” and perhaps indict “us”.

Nice theory. But how true do you really think that is? I’d say not very true for the vast majority of humans beings (at least at present).

Take many Christians that you know (I only pick on Christians because I have some first hand experience here; trust me, I’ve had these same conversations with a devout Muslim). They say that salvation comes through accepting Jesus Christ as the Son of God, and if this isn’t done (depending on their denomination) you will not be Saved, which basically means eternal damnation (but let’s not get hung up on that).

You know, this is a big benefit for the children that are born into Christian societies. We are a lucky bunch. Consider the child born in Iran, or China, or Thailand, or Japan. The odds of them being exposed to Christianity (in a positive light) during their upbringing is very low. Now some Christians believe if they are never exposed to the teachings of Jesus Christ, they get a free pass from damnation. But not all of the denominations.

Let’s ask ourselves how well we were taught about something other than the Christian faith, or God forbid, the concept of athiesm. Was that a fair and balanced presentation, if there was any exposure at all? You know children are pretty susceptible to the prejudices of their parents. How open minded are the parents that you know? And if you are fortunate to be raised in a liberal enlightened community, consider the rest of the world.

I think our religious indoctrination is probably the greatest disservice we do for our children. Not that I don’t want them to have a particular faith (or not), but rather, that I wish they would be encouraged to have the inquisitiveness to ask the question why there are multiple faiths, and just what does it all mean to them. And then to go do some honest investigation on their own. And from that, draw whatever conclusion works for them. But, generally speaking, we really stack the deck against this objective and sincere inquiry. And why not — many parents feel their children’s salvation rests upon their indoctrinations.

I hope (and expect) that over time, we will move away from this mindset. The whole notion of “blind faith” is worrisome to me. I don’t believe we need rational proof to consider the spiritual aspects of our lives, but I do believe we need to figure it out for ourselves. And if possible, pursue our spirituality sincerely and genuinely enough until we have our own personal experiences upon which to base our beliefs and insights.

Japanese girl at Shinto shrine, Meiji Jingu Shrine, Tokyo, Japan, December 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/212 sec @ f4.7, ISO 93, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

And to that end, I share with you this excerpt from Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet”. I believe all parents, parents-to-be, and maybe anyone with an influential role in children’s lives, would do well to consider these words, and apply them in their own investigations into the ineffable.

Children

"Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts. For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable."

-- Kahlil Gibran, excerpt from “The Prophet”

"Doubt everything. Find your own light." -- Buddha

Wings of change

Wings of change, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, August 2006, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f5.0, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I have often lamented the indecision of bureaucrats and bosses. Their seeming inability to agree on anything earthshattering or to take principled positions that would benefit more than their constituents or employees. Their seeming inability to create or legislate a new paradigm. I’ve even said to myself — if we could elect or select our best and our brightest, perhaps then we would see governments and organizations create systems that truly benefit the whole, and not continue self-serving interests.

But I just had an aha moment, I think. Something else is needed to make an organization, a social structure, or a being of any kind to evolve to a new level. We’ve recognized by now that this does not happen with discrete random mutations. (Darwin was brilliant, but his theory was not complete.) A dragonfly wing or a human eye did not emerge though the hundreds of random mutations that would be required for such a quantum level change. Something — scientists do not understand what at present — causes this quantum change to manifest — to emerge from where there was nothing before it. After that, our good friend natural selection can take over and decide if that quantum change really benefited the being or not, in its current environment.

Chaos, Store front sign, Tokyo, Japan, January 2007, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/60 sec @ f3.0, ISO 54, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

And perhaps one contributing factor to that emergent development (ignoring for the now the underlying mechanism) is crisis. Or its more scientific brother, chaos. Perhaps it is inherently natural and a part of life itself, that such revolutionary changes can only come in times of crisis. Otherwise, there is no systemic force motivating dramatic enough change.

So now you see me smiling. Not because I want crises to occur — they can produce very painful circumstances — but if you can recognize crises or chaos as a natural and necessary part of the evolutionary process, then you realize they are not only not a bad thing — they are an essential thing of forward progress. And then, when the next crisis occurs, while you deal with the inevitable consequences and the aftermath, perhaps you can still smile at the recognition that you are standing in the midst of life transforming itself.

In the Midst of Transformation, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/370 sec @ f5.0, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Listen!

Sometimes I just sits, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, July 2006, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f4.6, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

My Aunt Maria asked me to read the life of Dr. Chalmers,
which, however, I did not promise to do.

Yesterday, Sunday, she was heard through the partition
shouting to my Aunt Jane, who is deaf, "Think of it!
He stood half an hour today to hear the frogs croak,
and he wouldn't read the life of Chalmers."

-- from Thoreau's Journal (March 28, 1853)

I laughed out loud when I read this quote. It is a rare person who can stand and face the familial expectations, cultural norms, and (especially in today's age) the media's pitch. But there is no other way to find your authentic self. And very few others really have that as a goal for you. They want conformity. They have roles to be filled. They need cogs to be well greased.

Do you hear or feel or sense that inner voice? It doesn't care about what others expect. It wants you to want to begin the journey. To search for the woodland trail blazed years ago, but now overgrown by the intertwined vines of rules and expectations, and the thorny brambles of indoctrination and conformity.

And if you think you might see it -- notice some signposts from a deeply covered trail -- then resolve yourself to clear the path. First and foremost for yourself, and then as a service to others that may wish to follow.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.

-- Thoreau, from the "Conclusion" to Walden

Dancing with the Wind

Dancing with the Wind, Sydney Harbor, Sydney, Australia, October 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/680 sec @ f5.0, ISO 95, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

It was a very windy day. Just take a look at the size of that sailboat, and its angle to the water. The crew have all hiked to the windward side, to counteract the heeling of the boat. Wind and waves were battering the many sailboats in the harbor -- it looked scarey to me, but clearly this was an exciting day for the sailors. One thing is for certain, these folks were fully engrossed in their task, and giving their all to avoid capsizing.

Divided You Suffer, United You Dance -- Osho

Do things with your whole heart, with as much intensity as you are capable of.

Anything done halfheartedly never brings joy to life. It only brings misery, anxiety, torture, and tension, because whenever you do anything halfheartedly you are dividing yourself into two parts, and that is one of the greatest calamities that has happened to human beings -- they are all split. The misery in the world is not surprising; it is a natural outcome of living halfheartedly, doing everything only with one part of our being while the other part is resisting, opposing, fighting.

And whatever you do with half of your being is going to bring you repentance, misery, and a feeling that perhaps the other part that was not participating was right -- because following this part, you have attained nothing but a miserable state. But I say to you: If you had followed the other part, the result would have been the same. It is not a question of which part you follow, it is a question of whether you go totally into it or not. To be total in your action brings joy. Even an ordinary, trivial action done with total intensity brings a glow to your being, a fulfillment, a fullness, a deep contentment. And anything done halfheartedly, however good the thing may be, is going to bring misery.

Misery does not come from your actions, neither does joy come from your actions. Joy comes when you are total. It does not matter what action you are involved in, misery is the outcome when you are partial. [...]

When your mind, when your heart, when your being is pulled in two directions simultaneously, you are creating hell. And when you are total, one, an organic unity...in that very organic unity, the flowers of heaven start blossoming in you.

People have remained concerned about their acts: Which act is right and which act is wrong? What is good and what is evil? My own understanding is that it is not a question of any particular act. The question is about your psychology.

When you are total, it is good; and when you are divided, it is evil. Divided you suffer; united, you dance, you sing, you celebrate.

--Osho

What the heck does he really mean?

In the end, I think he means to trust your heart. Don't 'analyze', 'rationalize', or 'keep your options open'. Give all of yourself to whatever your endeavor. Remove self-doubt, break through the façade of indifference, and commit in spite of the risk.

Live as though today is the only day, and love as though you have found your true one, because indeed everyday and everyone should be just that. Give yourself entirely to the Now.

Autumn Reflection

Autumn Reflection, Tucker Pond, Warner, NH, October 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/630 sec @ f4.5, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

The world is your mirror.

The good you find in others, is in you too.
The faults you find in others, are your faults as well.
After all, to recognize something you must know it.

The possibilities you see in others, are possible for you as well. The beauty you see around you, is your beauty. The world around you is a reflection, a mirror showing you the person you are.

To change your world, you must change yourself. To blame and complain will only make matters worse. Whatever you care about, is your responsibility. What you see in others, shows you yourself.

See the best in others, and you will be your best. Give to others, and you give to yourself. Appreciate beauty, and you will be beautiful. Admire creativity, and you will be creative.

Love, and you will be loved. Seek to understand, and you will be understood. Listen, and your voice will be heard. Teach, and you will learn.

-- Unknown author

Surely, this is overly simplified, perhaps even a bit Pollyanna, right? If there is injustice, inequality, and despair in the world, then what the world needs are acts of altruism, assistance, and activism, not self-indulgent naval gazing. Right?

I don't know. I find these to be powerful words, that strike in me a resonant chord of truth.

These ideas do not work well in the world of "them" and "us". If our goal is to manipulate, cajole, conquer, or exploit, then I don't recommend this be adopted as your manifesto. And of course, that is the point.

This reflects the great insights of all of the religious and mythic traditions of the world: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." In any language, from many cultures, the so-called Golden Rule. And why is that wisdom universal? In our work-a-day world, because it is the only concept that will "scale". At the level of truth, because it reflects the inherent wholeness and oneness of the world.

We reflect others in our mirror, because that is the mirror of awareness. Awaken to that ultimate truth. You, and only you, hold that power deep inside.

Sunset at sea

Sunset at sea, Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii, February 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/361 sec @ f4.7, ISO 102, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

You are the endless sea
In whom all the worlds like waves
Naturally rise and fall.

You have nothing to win,
Nothing to lose.
Child,
You are pure awareness,
Nothing less.

You and the world are one.

So who are you to think
You can hold on to it,
Or let it go?

How could you!
-- Ashtavakra Gita 15: 11-12

"... You have nothing to win, nothing to lose ..."

Can you even imagine such a concept? You do not need to compete with your neighbor. No need to grab your piece of the pie before its all gone. Fear need not be the motivating emotion, and it can be replaced by compassion and acceptance.

"... You and the world are one ..."

Why would you compete with yourself? Why would you want to take what is already yours? You must see the truth of this. We are not separate individuals, nor are we separate from our environment. We are an integral part of the flow that is life itself.

These really are not "concepts", since conceptual thinking (and words themselves) imply the world of duality. Try to experience these realities, by living your life as if they are true. See if they don't resonate with something deep inside of you. What's the worst that could happen? You would be living more "gently" with your neighbors, and with the world itself.

Heart light

Loi Krathong Festival, Anantara Resort, Chiang Saen, Thailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/15 sec @ f3.6, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Turn on your heartlight
Let it shine whereever you go
Let it make a happy glow
For all the world to see

-- from the song Heartlight, written by Neil Diamond, Burt Bacharach and Carole Bayer Sager

I was lucky enought to visit Thailand a while ago. And lucky enough to have headed to the northern area, up near the border with Laos and Burma (now Union of Myanmar). And luckiest still to have been there in November, when Thais hold their "Loi Krathong" festival. Here is a brief explanation:

As the full moon of the twelfth lunar month (usually in mid-November) lights up the night sky, throughout the Thai kingdom, hundreds of thousands of ornately-decorated krathong or traditional banana leaf floats are set adrift in rivers and waterways in a spell-binding ritual called Loi Krathong - the 'festival of lights". This is one of the Kingdom's oldest and best-preserved traditions.

In the Northern Thai provinces that were once part of the ancient Lanna Thai kingdom, the Yi-peng Northern Lantern Festival is still being celebrated. Tubular lanterns, resembling hot air balloons, are lit and released into the night sky as an offering the Lord Buddha. As hundreds of illuminated lanterns drift into infinity, this conjures the same sense of wistful closure as the krathong float downstream.

I had the pleasure of participating in both types of ceremonies, but I must say that the the one pictured in the photo (a close up of the light-weight "balloon" as it lifts itself from its own heat) was most impressive. Throughout the week, different communities would celebrate on different nights, so if you were paying attention, you would see hundreds of flickering lights rising up into the starry sky, each time from a different location. Really beautiful and really moving.

I like to think of it as an expression of compassion offered from one community to all those who can see the slow-dancing heart lights, floating so gently, so peacefully, ever higher. Once released, this compassion will just follow the flow of the evening breeze, and we cannot be sure where it will go, and who will be affected by it.

"Go out into the world today and love the people you meet. Let your presence light new light in the hearts of people."

-- Mother Teresa

Watching the wheels go round

St. Ignatius of Loyola Dome, Rome, Italy, September 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/5 sec @ f2.8, ISO 400, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This is a spectacular dome, in a rather inconspicuous church in Rome. But when I look at it in this photo (compressed into two dimensions), I see a wheel. A beautiful wheel, but a wheel nonetheless. Perhaps that was becuase I was looking through my library for a photo to go with the song below.

You've probably heard John Lennon singing "Watching The Wheels", but have you ever really focused on the lyrics. They are amazing.

Have you ever considered stepping off the merry-go-round (of work, of consumerism, of the media), and just watch the wheels go 'round? Check out the lyrics below and consider reflecting on them during some quiet time:

Watching The Wheels
John Lennon

People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. they look at me kind of strange
Surely you're not happy now you no longer play the game

People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that I'm doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Don't you miss the big time boy you're no longer on the ball?

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go

People asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there's no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them there's no hurry...
I'm just sitting here doing time

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go

Sun, moon, shadow, and time

Moonscape, Keoneheehee Trail, Haleakala volcano, Maui, Hawaii, February 2004, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f5.0, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

The shadow by my finger cast
Divides the future from the past.
Behind its unreturning line,
The vanished hour, no longer thine.

Before it lies the unknown hour,
In darkness and beyond thine power.
One hour alone is in thine hands,
The now on which the shadow stands.

-- A poem inscribed on a sundial at Wellesley College

We were up there, with a gaggle of other caffeine-starved tourists, to watch the sun emerge ever so slowly from the moonless starry darkness, through imaginary caverns carved in the thin air of 10,000 ft with blackened hues of violet, indigo, and crimson.


Waiting, as time passed achingly slowly in this cold, windswept, but revered "house of the Sun", which is the translation of Haleakala. Muted whispers mix with chattering shivers as we wait to see the star of the show make his entrance, toying with his audience for greater effect.


Slowly, the footlights brighten, as a hush falls over the crowd. This morning there are but a few clouds, and so the star, now having ruffled the curtain a bit, burst forth onto the stage in an instant.


Almost too fast for our eyes to adjust, time seems to race ahead, surely at a different speed than just moments ago. Don't blink -- or you will miss it. Don't blink, and you may go blind. This is the closest I hope to ever get to witnessing a distant thermonuclear explosion -- which, of course, is exactly what it is.

And what of that sundial poem? Only this. Time is but a mental concept to place our lives and our world in a seemingly continuous stream of events. Did you know that your view of time, and my view of time are not necessarily the same, and are not linked to some abstract and absolute watchmaker or his timepiece?

Time is but a part of the space-time fabric of our universe, and each of us only understand time relatively. If you were to journey toward this distant star at any appreciable speed, strange things would happen to you and your clock (from my perspective), but everything about you would appear the same to you. To me, your clock would slow down (and to you, it would stay the same, and instead, my clock would speed up). Also, your mass and size would change (from my perspective) -- you would get heavier and wider -- more so the faster you traveled.

These are not imaginary, metaphysical constructs. If my twin brother returned from such a journey, he would indeed be younger than I. He would have aged less than I, according to my clock. And I would be older than he, according to his clock.

So what about that poem again? The only time that matters -- the only time where life exists -- is this moment. Each moment is fresh, open to your conscious appreciation. Past moments do not exist, except in your mind. Future moments do not exist, except in your mind. When you quiet your mind, you realize that any time we spend haunted by our past, or worried for our future, exists only Now, in this moment, in our mind.

It illustrates the importance of this moment. You choose how you will live your life in the here and now. You can either use your mind to reminisce (or be haunted) by the past, or you can dream (or worry) about the future. Or you experience the creative moment that is unveiling its glory at this very instant. When you are mindful of this reality, rather than the fiction of the continuum of time, you will experience the essence of life -- its richness, its beauty, the harmony, the interconnectedness and interdependence of all things, because in reality they are all one, born anew each moment.

Words!
The Way is beyond language,
for in it there is
no yesterday
no tomorrow
no today.
-- Seng-Tsan, “Verses On The Faith Mind”

In essence, you have billions of lives to live, each moment to moment. If you are dissatisfied with your current self, not to worry, for it dies in this instant -- to be reborn in the next. There is only one moment, each moment, to live this new life. How glorious will your next sunrise be?

What is the essence of Buddhism?

Daddy Longlegs, Amherst, NH, October 2006, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/30 sec @ f2.8, ISO 160, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I hadn't realized how long it had been since I last posted. What a strange process -- devoted to daily posts one day, and then just drop it like a ton of bricks the next. Don't ask me to explain -- I cannot.

So to ease back into my blogging routine, I thought maybe I could augment my words and thoughts with selected quotes. Or just use them outright. We'll see how it goes.

My arachnid friend, looking at me from a dew-covered hosta, asks ...

What is the essence of Buddhism?

"Respect all forms of life, and then compassion and affection toward all sentient beings, with the understanding that everything is interdependent - so my happiness and suffering, my well-being, very much have to do with others."
-- Dalai Lama

Probably a smart philosophy for each of us, and is certainly appreciated by the little guy with really long legs. And also consider:

"In general the teaching of the Buddha is very vast and profound, it is not so simple as to grasp it in one time. If we had to summarize the complete teaching of Buddha we would see that all is included in two main points, that is:
• cause no harm to any sentient beings,
• always try to benefit all sentient beings; or, if we are not able to benefit others we should at least avoid all harmful thoughts and actions."
-- His Holiness Trijang Dorje Chang.

Are you a genius?

Laughing Reindeer, Nara, Japan, June 2003, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f5.6, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

OK, sorry -- he's not laughing at you given the question above. I just couldn't find a better photo for this post. But it is amazing how much he does look like he's laughing, doesn't it? Anyways ...

Just where does genius come from? Have you ever asked yourself that question? Genius can be mathematical or scientific, like Einstein, or it can be in the arts, like Mozart, and many other ways as well. Are these people simply born as geniuses? Are they just really smart, or is it that they have an ability to tap into something that the rest of us struggle with daily. Perhaps they are not as constrained as you and I, for some reason. Perhaps they are inspired -- “in spirit”. And can this capability ever come to us common folk?

According to an extract from this article, Orlando Serrell did not possess any special skills until he was struck in the head by a baseball when he was 10. He has remembered where he was and what he was doing almost every day since.

Serrell is what Treffert calls an "acquired savant," someone who exhibits savant skills after suffering a head injury or a stroke to the left hemisphere of the brain. Treffert believes the brain injury somehow frees acquired savants from the language and logic that rules our everyday lives. [emphasis is mine]. You will also read (and hear) about other savant's extraordinary skills at the link above.

"We tend to think of ourselves as having this blank disc in the marvelous piece of equipment called the brain, and what we become is everything we put on this disc. And I'm saying there is much more to us. That we come with software," Treffert says.

In short, Treffert says, there is genius in all of us.

Think about that — or perhaps don’t think about it. Instead, consider it, contemplate it, reflect upon it, imagine it, do almost anything but think about it using standard words and conventions. As Treffert says, try to free yourself “from the language and logic that rules our everyday lives.”

And then, perhaps -- just perhaps -- you too can have a taste of your own genius -- without even trying. Either because you can unleash the true untapped potential of your brain (for materialists), or because you are in touch with that which is the source of all inspiration (for the metaphysical among us).

In any case, why not try to unleash your real potential. Or just rest in the knowledge that more lurks beneath your superficial self. Dig, my friend, dig deeply.

Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius. -- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)

The Invitation

Namaste, Tachileik Shwedagon Pagoda - Golden Triangle City, Union of Myanmar, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/400 sec @ f4.5, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This lady was sitting outside a large Pagoda just over the border of Northern Thailand (into what used to be called Burma). She was very friendly, and when I asked to take her picture, she put her hands together as if to say "Namaste". I've chosen this picture for an entry entitled "The Invitation".

Why? Because every day you will interact with people in one way or another. And each time you do, you are offered "The Invitation". This is your opportunity to express yourself and to find out about the other person. And when you do, I hope you take "The Invitation" seriously, and bring gentleness and depth to your interaction -- offering something soulful about yourself, and hopefully getting the same in return.

You've probably read this poem, I suspect. As I understand the story, it was written after Oriah Mountain Dreamer attended a typical dinner party, and felt the conversation was just too superficial (do you ever feel that way?)

Here it is, reprinted in full, as it is to me, very moving and very important:

The Invitation, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Tap, tap, tap

Tap, tap, tap, Old Delhi, India, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f2.8, ISO 180, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Your attention is focused on the road ahead — you need to navigate all manner of vehicles and pedestrians, going in just about every direction. And then as you slow down for an intersection, your attention is shifted from the windshield to the “tap, tap, tap” on one (or more) of your passenger windows. You imagine the request: “Hey Mister Westerner, how about some change for me? For my family? Please?” It was hard for this girl to see into our car, since the windows were darkened. So she stuck her nose up to the glass and tried to see inside, as well as to make herself known.

This is Old Delhi — a spider’s web of streets overlaid on a predominantly Muslim population. (India also has the 2nd largest number of Muslims in the world.) We had been advised earlier not to roll down our windows to provide any money, nor to buy from the street vendors hawking cheap trinkets and eager to test out their English in hopes of a few rupees. “If you give to one,” we are told, “they will quickly engulf the car.” A very strange situation. Do you look? Do you ignore? Do you try to help anyway? What would you do?

This situation is surely not the most grim in the world, but at the same time, it is unmistakable material poverty. It makes me think of this quote from Martin Luther King, Jr.:

I have the audacity to believe that people everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, quality, and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, other-centered men can build up.
-- Martin Luther King Jr.

And what is it that makes me see beauty even here? What else ... our humanity. If you do not see, how will you be moved to consider this situation —- to decide what, if anything, you would like to do about it. Perhaps only accept it. Perhaps only be present for the suffering, for the stark difference in material wealth in the world. Perhaps only to wish for something better. Or perhaps to consider the current realities and expect something better for our humanity. And then perhaps to take one step -— one beautiful step -— to acknowledge, to understand, to feel compassion, and to move us upward, collectively upward, as we are most certainly capable of doing.

I see beauty in that potential -— in that intention. Don’t you?

Intention is the core of all conscious life. It is our intentions that create karma, our intentions that help others, our intentions that lead us away from the delusions of individuality toward the immutable verities of enlightened awareness. Conscious intention colors and moves everything.
-- Master Hsing Yun, Describing the Indescribable

A love that burns

Sunset through the trees, Christian Hill, Amherst, NH, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f4.7, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Love is a powerful emotion. Indeed it is a powerful force. And very complicated, at least in our everyday lives. But really, very simple, right?

The love I’d like to consider — the one that can burn through layers upon layers of conditioning, of impoverishment, of heartache, and even through defeat — is unconditional love. Do any of us have the ability to offer such a powerful force?

It is the love that Jesus spoke of — offered even to your worst enemies, by your other cheek, because you realize that they are your best teacher, because this is your best weapon, and because you realize, deep in your heart of hearts, that you and your enemy are one. It is the compassion that Mother Theresa showed to the untouchables in the gutters of Calcutta.

And it makes me think of this poem, by the Sufi mystic Rumi:

O Love, O pure deep love, be here, be now, Be all;
worlds dissolved into your stainless endless radiance,
Frail living leaves burn with you brighter than cold stars:
Make me your servant, your breath, your core.
-- Jelaluddin Rumi

The art of disappearing

Translucent wings, Pickity Place gardens, Mason, NH, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/1050 sec @ f4.5, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Take a look at this dragonfly — if you can see him (click on the picture for a better look). His wings are 99 and 44/100% translucent, with only one cell of color on each. As a result, he almost disappears into the background. I think this is a useful metaphor for each of us as well. To counteract our cultural and societal messages of standing out at all costs.

We dress in bright clothing, or tatoo our bodies and color our hair. We paint on eye shadow and lipstick, and cook our bodies in the sun. We straighten and whiten our teeth for sparkling contrast to our tan skin.

And then we have our behavior. Push to the head of the line, try to find a “brand” to characterize what we, uniquely, have to offer. We raise our voices or our hands, we laugh loudly or whine or cry for attention.

I suggest that each of these measures serves to reinforce and amplify our ego, and serves to highlight our individuality. And I think that does not serve us well in the long run, nor humanity. And I offer to you this insightful poem, as you reflect upon the dragonfly as it blends into the background of life. And consider especially the last three lines of the poem, for which another photo might help you internalize.

The Art of Disappearing, a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye

When they say “Don't I know you?”
say no.

When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.

If they say “We should get together”
say why?

It's not that you don’t love them anymore.
You’re trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

So much happiness

Rubber duckies, Tucker Pond, Salisbury, NH, July 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/540 sec @ f4.5, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I came across this poem today — sent to me like any other e-mail, easily lost to the junk folder or removed by a mindless delete key. But thankfully not.

Take a look at it. No! Taste it, consume it, bathe in it, relish it, savor its spices, cuddle in its warm embrace, lay down in its bed of truth, slow dance to its gentle rhythm, while you sing along with its lyrics.

For I have nothing to add. Just let happiness be -— you don’t have to do a damn thing.

So Much Happiness, a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
A wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
Something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
And disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
And now live over a quarry of noise and dust
Cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
It too could wake up filled with possibilities
Of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
And love even the floor which needs to be swept,
The soiled linens and scratched records….

Since there is no place large enough
To contain so much happiness,
You shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
Into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
For the moon, but continues to hold it, and to share it,
And in that way, be known.

What do you see?

Eerie Oilslick, Arizona Memorial, Pearl Harbor, HI, February 2002, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/400 sec @ f5.6, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Now here is something weird. I knew I took a picture of this oilsick (over 4 years ago). Small amounts of oil or gas are still leaking out of the sunken battleship, the U.S.S. Arizona, from the attack on Pearl Harbor more than 60 years ago. The attack that brought us into the WWII, and killed 1177 men on this ship alone.

What I never noticed until now is the 'face' in the oilslick. Can you see it? It seems unmistakable, and the face looks anguished, like those souls lost in that fateful attack. That's kind of eerie, don't you think? [BTW, there was no clever use of Photoshop here -- this is just how the image came out of the camera.]

I didn't see this 'face' when I took the picture -- I just wanted to capture the sunlight on the oil-water mix. For it looked beautiful to me. The colors of the oil sheen change as the waves move back and forth. So every instant, you will see something different.

And that's a metaphor for life. Look in the moment -- right now, and "see" what you see. Relish that moment as eternity. Then look again. And again. In each moment, life will present you with new images and new perspectives. Train your eye to enjoy them all. The world, born anew, every moment you are aware.

Oh, and by the way. If you think that "face" was somehow connected to the Arizona, consider this picture below -- do you see all of the "diamonds" rising up from its rusing hull as reflecting the individual souls lost on board? Hey, I just take the pictures. You have to interpret the Rorschach tests ;-)

Why do I photograph?

Chro-me-um, Milford, NH, August, 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/525 sec @ f4.5, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Recently, I've been asking myself: "self, why do you take so many pictures, and then why bother posting some of them to a blog?" And here is what I told myself.

The world is an incredibly beautiful place. Certainly the natural beauty, but also man-made affairs. Indeed, just about anything can be seen to be beautiful when not labeled, not judged, and just experienced. Yes, I think even dead things can be beautiful.

Sometimes it is the scale on which you observe the world. Most of us are rushing from place to place, we don't take the time to examine our surroundings, especially in detail. Life exists on a multiplicity of scales: cells, simple organsims, plants and animals, the garden, your town, visiting a new country, earth itself, and beyond. Everything we interact with exists on all of these scales at the same time -- we can choose to examine them from any perspective.

So I guess I am consciously taking some extra time to examine my world -- with my camera at the ready. I like to look for a unique angle, perhaps capturing an everyday object up close, or an interesting pattern. Look carefully, and I think you'll see beauty in there. It is not my photograph, but the world, that is beautiful. I'm simply the recorder. All you need to do is look, and I guess that is my contribution. I'm looking, and then sharing what I see.

So that is why I photograph. Even strange things like you see below. Because -- paraphrasing a famous song -- "sometimes you're the bug, and sometimes you're the radiator", but either way, it can be beautiful. Don't you think?

The Butterfly Effect

Spread your wings, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, September 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/380 sec @ f2.8, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Have you ever watched a butterfly closely? So delicate, so graceful, so relaxed, so unhurried.

Why not spread your wings and follow its lead. Can you tread lightly upon this earth, floating from place to place? Can you offer a smile, and a kind word to everyone you meet, full of grace? Can you take a deep breath and let your mind settle down, and relax to your Authentic Self? Can you slow your tempo, and observe more of the world around you, patient and unburdened by those racing to and fro?

You see, it is that easy to become a butterfly yourself. Floating along, in wonder. Alighting here and there, barely noticed. Except that your radiance shines forth and catches some attention. And causes those who see to pause, and contemplate becoming a butterfly themselves.

And when you get stuck on the need to force a change in the world you see, remember the butterfly effect:

The phrase refers to the idea that a butterfly's wings might create tiny changes in the atmosphere that ultimately cause a tornado to appear (or, for that matter, prevent a tornado from appearing). The flapping wing represents a small change in the initial condition of the system, which causes a chain of events leading to large-scale phenomena. Had the butterfly not flapped its wings, the trajectory of the system might have been vastly different.

-- extracted from Wikipedia

Howya doin?

Howya doin?, Amherst, NH, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f6.4, ISO 50, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Hey there -- howya doin? Me? Oh fine, thanks for asking ... I'm just hangin around. Why? Just to get your attention -- to see if you are paying attention. Hey, go ahead and click on the picture so I can get a better look at you.

Now, can I offer you just one thought for your day? Here ya go ... Take care now, ya hear?

If you could get rid of yourself just once, the secret of secrets
would open to you. The face of the unknown, hidden beyond
the universe would appear on the mirror of your perception.

-- Rumi

Another specimen

Another specimen, Garden Pond, Amherst, NH, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/317 sec @ f3.6, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Look at how beautiful this one is. Another type -- I don't know what kind. Is this yet another for my collection? Do not worry, I'm just talking about photos. This one (and all of them) gently floated away when my camera became just a little too annoying.

But recently I read this quote from Ken Wilber, and though perhaps a little harsh, it does express my sentiments of organized religion versus spirituality:

When I was a youngster, and being the mad scientist type, I used to collect insects. Central to this endeavor was the killing jar. You take an empty mayonnaise jar, put lethal carbon tetrachloride on cotton balls, and place them in the bottom of the jar. You then drop the insect -- moth, butterfly, whatnot -- into the jar, and it quickly dies, but without being outwardly disfigured. You then mount it, study it, display it.

Academic religion is the killing jar of Spirit.

-- Ken Wilber, One Taste: November 24

Peeking

Peeking, Hilton Hawaiian Village, Waikiki, Honolulu, HI, February 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/150 sec @ f4.5, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

He's peeking. You're peeking. I'm peeking. We're all peeking into a world so unimaginable, so undescribable, so undeniable -- it is beyond belief. Because it just is.

So as you catch a glimpse, glance in that direction, espy something deeper, gaze inward, and have a peek into this world, ask yourself just who is the "I" that is peeking?

“The inner growth is very still and very silent. You are growing, and even you cannot be aware of it unless something totally new happens and makes you aware that you have reached some space that was unknown to you. And that can happen any moment. On your part great patience is needed, and a trust that the whole existence is in support of all those who are trying to grow spiritually. It is not you who are trying to grow spiritually; it is existence who, through you, is trying to reach to its utmost heights.”

-- OSHO

Say 'ahhhhhh'

Say 'Ahhhhhh', Concord, MA, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/200 sec @ f5.0, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

There is something very pleasing about a beautiful flower, recently bathed in rainwater, and now illuminated by everpresent sunlight as the clouds move to and fro. Can you say 'ahhhhhh'? Just say it, and you relax a bit.

No, not the 'aaahhhh' when you visit the doctor and he looks down your throat. Not the 'aawwwhh' when you are disappointed that things did not go as you had planned.

But the 'ahhhhhh' when you slip into a warm bath. The 'ahhhhhh' when you snuggle under the covers and leave all of your cares crumpled in a heap with your clothes at the foot of your bed. The 'ahhhhhh' when you sip a full-bodied wine and twirl it in your mouth with your tongue. The 'ahhhhhh' when you smell fragrant flowers in your garden, and it brings back many memories of days gone by.

This delicate 'ahhhhhh' belongs to a Hibiscus that my mother-in-law planted many years ago. And while she passed on a few years ago, the beauty of her garden remains, and is rejuvinated every year. What a wonderful way to remember her.

Taj Mahal

Taj Mahal, Agra, India, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/600 sec @ f5.4, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I know, I know, it looks just like a tourist photo, but I said I would post one, and I didn't really take any artsy ones. But the Taj Mahal warrants special note anyways -- it really is a beautiful building and landmark. And some of the stories surrounding it are rather interesting. For example ...

You can probably guess that the Taj Mahal is made out of marble, but did you know it is a unique nonporous kind of marble. That hardness both keeps the acid rain from destroying it, and also enables its embellishment with inlaid semi-precious stones over much of its facade. When you get close, you would think the designs and Arabic writing are painted on because they are as smooth as the marble, but in fact, they represent the inlay of millions of pieces of semi-precious stones and black marble.

The Taj Mahal is entirely symmetrical. There is even a mosque on the left side, and to keep the grounds symmetrical, they built a duplicate on the right side, but it isn't an actual mosque because it faces away from Mecca. Also, the king who built this tomb for his wife (she died in childbirth with her 14th child!), was going to build a contrasting duplicate of it totally out of black marble across the river, as his own mausoleum. But the king's son (and head of his army) felt that was just too extravagant, and instead had his father placed under house arrest for the rest of his life. So instead he was buried next to his wife, thus creating the only asymmetry of the Taj Mahal.

Anyways, I found it interesting, and worth the visit. Even though that did involve back-to-back four-hour drives between Delhi and Agra, and let me tell you, that is quite an experience.

Blending in the background

Screen silhouette, Humayun's Tomb, Delhi, India, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/90 sec @ f3.2, ISO 200, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

This is another picture from Humayun's tomb. This "screen" is carved out of a 2" slab of marble. Each of the many windows had a different screen pattern. Interestingly, I did make it to the Taj Mahal (which I'll show later) and it was fantastic, but the screens there were not as nice as right here in Delhi.

I remember when I asked my coworker to take this picture. He said "you'll never show up, it's too bright." I said "I know, that's the point."

To blend into the background, to become part of the background, to dance between the light and dark. After all, that is what you are, part of the everpresent background. So stop trying to stand out. Stop trying to call attention to yourself. And notice the background presence instead. Be that presence.

Reflection in the grass

Reflection in the grass, Humayun's Tomb, Delhi, India, August 2006, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/360 sec @ f3.2, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

I'm traveling to India on business at the moment. After more than 24 hours flying, we arrived at our hotel in Delhi at 2:00 AM. Therefore, yesterday was considered a "rest day". But why rest, when you can get out and see a few sights.

The reflection shown here is of Humayun's Tomb to honor the eldest son of Babur, who succeeded his father and became the second emperor of the Mughal Empire. The tomb was built from 1562-1572. It is the first significant example of Islamic Mughal architecture with high arches and double dome. It is also considered the first example of the garden-tomb, which culminated in the world famous Taj Mahal (which I hope to see later in the trip).

I found this photo interesting, as they were working on the garden ponds, and therefore had to pump out the water onto the surrounding lawns. So from this waste, comes this art. To me it looks like a painting, and I can almost see the brush strokes and texture of the oil paint on the canvas. Take a look below, and see what you think.

Is it raining?

Rain on the sun, Garden pond, Amherst, NH, August 2008, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 1/180 sec @ f3.6, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp [Click on the photo to enlarge]

Our dog Frito is usually our alarm clock. He wakes us up at oh-dark-thirty in the morning for a quick stop outdoors on his way to breakfast. Most members of my household would rather sleep. But I like to get up then. It is usually beautiful outside.

But sometimes it's raining, like on this morning. So I grab the umbrella and my camera (always my camera), slip on some sandals, and open my eyes. Still looks pretty spectacular to me. I can't find the sun in the sky, but it's right there, colorfully reflecting back the raindrops that fall all around, and pitter-patter above my head while I take this photo.

Yes, even when it's raining outside, I can't think of a better time of day, or a better place to be. With eyes wide open.

Sunrise after the storm

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