Day: May 25, 2013

I felt off center for much of this week, restless and uneasy, grumpy and off-balance. I have been working on it, I went out to the Pole Barn in this cold and windy rainstorm to do my Tai-Chi by the pasture, looking out at the wind and the moving leaves all around me, watching the nervous barn swallow mom buzz me to try and get me away from her next. The sheep were lying in the Pole Barn watching the storm, the donkeys, curious, gathered around me. I thought of the many wonderful old paintings of donkeys during the Renaissance and in ancient times, portraits of donkeys and men, partners, engaged together in the Theater of Chance that is life.

Out in the wind and the rain, seeking my center and grounded place I took up the Tai-Chi position, sought to connect my mind, heart and body with the world around me, and the donkeys gathered around me, they seemed to know what I was doing, and I kept my eyes open to focus on the apple tree in the pasture, it was rocking back and forth in the wind, and the rain was beating down on the roof of the pole barn, and the frogs were giving their sermons out in the march, and the swallow was sailing back and forth over my head and the geese in the pond were calling to one another and I felt the donkey’s warm breath on my neck and face and I saw the sheep lying down next to us, chewing their cuds, and the world seemed to fuse together in one thing, all around me, I was dancing in the center of it as I did my movements with these wonderful creatures, all of whom have lived around men and women for many centuries.

And what, I thought, is the Theater Of Chance, but the dance of life, the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, love lost and found, our hopes and dreams, our inner spirits struggling to come out, to be free, to live, even for just a little while. And I felt my center, my place of peace, the cup of my aspirations and wishes for my life, and then I closed my eyes and listened to the animals breathing, the wind howling through the pasture, the leaves whispering in the rain.

We all live in the Theater Of Chance, never knowing how our life will play out. What a thing of wonder. Tai-Chi is working for me, it is already important to me, I am building my practice, strengthening my center for the Theater Of Chance.

It has been raining for days, and it’s cold and windy today, and I see this has affected my mood, photography has turned me into a color addict, a warrior for light. I found some color, on the porch, in a windowbox filled with pansies, thick with light and moisture. I got out my macro lens and lay down on the porch sill and this gave me an infusion of color for this gray day, as we head to dusk. Hope it lightens your day as well.

Red is an extraordinary dog, he seems able to enter any kind of space and be at home there. We took him (at the gallery’s invitation) to the opening of the 3Pears gallery in Pawlet, Vt., a huge refurbished barn filled with people and art and classy furniture and Red, who never even lived in a house until he came to Bedlam Farm, assumed the role of gallery dog, greeting visitors, stopping to be petted. I have to confess to discomfort at people who continuously demand that dogs do tricks like shaking hands, he is a working dog and he doesn’t do tricks but the members of one family kept pushing him to “give us paws” until I called him away. Other people can’t stop pumping treats into him, even though he has plenty to eat and he doesn’t need to associate gatherings and people with food. This is how dogs become beggars and pests.

I am always interested in the boundary between what dogs need and people need. Red is quite happy just greeting people and I astonished at how many treats are offered him. Still, people will do that, no matter what anybody says, so it’s my job to accept it and just work around it. Red was as popular as the art, and there were always people lining up to say hello to him. I am so grateful to have a dog like this and to be able to bring him out into the world. This is what dogs need, not to be isolated, but to learn how to live with us as we work, play and live our lives. We were there for nearly two hours and he is always around us. I don’t even have to think about him.

Maria and I (and Red) went to the 3Pears Art Gallery opening on Route 30 in Pawlet, Vt. Gregory Delucca has assembled the work of 30 gifted artists and photographers in a beautiful old barn and he invited Maria to show her pillows and potholders and has seven of my photos on sale as well. It’s beautiful gallery and I especially loved the barn paintings of Brian Hewitt, a North Bennington, Vt. artist. The gallery will be open through Labor Day. It’s a beautiful space filled with beautiful stuff.

I’ve decided to enter the Washington County Fair photo contest this year. The fair is in late August and I am up against some strong competitors. I most fear the farmer’s wives with their point-and-shoots, they know how to take great photos.

The point of the hero journey is to learn who you are, to face the truth about yourself, to learn what it is you can bring to life, what the point of your life is. I am learning what standing in my truth means, learning how to do it, what it means to be authentic, to be honest.

Speaking in your truth does not mean I know the truth, it does not mean I am correct.

It means accepting who I am at the moment, being honest about what I feel.

Standing in my truth does not mean that I am perfect or close to it.

It means I acknowledge the reality of me. My anger. My sensitivity. My judgments.

My many imperfections. It means living with them.

It is accepting who I am at the moment, and speaking my mind, owning who I am.

Speaking my truth is not about what others think I should say or do,

or what others feel about me. It is learning to embrace my own identity,

to be the person I was meant to be, was born to be, before life entered my consciousness

and altered me.

It does not ever mean I am right. It means I am true to me.

Standing in my truth is about self-respect, not earning the approval or respect of others.

When I am there, it feels good, it feels right, it feels true.

When I am not, it feels awful, a sinking, a drowning, a choking.

This what the hero journey is all about. Knowing who I am.

Being proud of me, even when I am not deserving.