Day: May 27, 2014

In recent days, several people I know that I hadn’t spoken with in awhile told me they were seeking a life of meaning, they all were making plans – when their kids grew up, when they retired, when they had put away a half-million dollars in IRA’s, when their wife or husband agreed to move. All were readers of the blog and the wanted me to know this is what they wish for themselves, and I was touched.

I have always thought about what it means to have a life of meaning, for me and for others. I hope these good people get the life they want, but I have learned in my life that people who put their true lives off for money, safety,  retirement or the approval of others have already given up on it, they just don’t know it.  I understand and respect their choices. In our culture, many of us live for money – for the mortgage, for technology, for college, retirement, health care, for support for their parents and families, for obligations to their kids.

Life is complex, and the Fear Machine instructs us constantly to make sure we have the things we need to live safely in this world. All of them cost a lot of money.

Those are all good and valid reasons, I would never criticize those decisions or make light of them. But I have the same feeling I get when people tell me they tell their gifted sons and daughters that it’s okay to be a musician, a writer, an artist, but don’t give up  your day job. A lot of creative lives die under the weight of that advice, that is not what people seeking a creative or meaningful life need to hear. They need to hear, at any age go for it, you can do it, lots of people have, live the life  you want to live, answer the call of your heart.The encouragers, not the naysayers, are the true angels of our realm.

When people ask me – anybody, especially younger people – about being a writer, I tell them go for it, lots of people do it. But do give up your day job, if you don’t, you will most likely never find the strength to commit yourself to live the life you really want. There are no safe places in the world, no such thing as security. If you consider the people you know with a lot of money, you will see for yourself what I mean.

I can only speak for myself, not for anyone else. I don’t tell others what to do, I just share my own choices and decisions. A meaningful life is a leap of faith, a coming out, a plunge over the high rocks into the deep pool. I am halfway there on a good day, I wonder if I shall ever get there, I will surely keep on trying.

A life based on money  – work done only for money – is a a kind of slavery. It is a hollow life lived by hollow men and women. . It is rarely the path to a life of meaning and purpose. A life based on security may be a safe life, but it is rarely a life of meaning. I do not wish to look back on my life and say I worked for money, I lived for security. And it’s a good thing, as I have neither.

I am getting closer to a life of meaning. A life with love, friendship, creativity, encouragement, human connection, a life in nature, and with animals, a life doing what I always wanted to do – write.  And now, take photos. It is not an easy life, not a perfect life, it is my life, it has meaning. Where I can, I encourage others to answer the call of their creative spark, I teach what I have learned to those who wish to hear it. I am not living a life others have dictated for me, my life is a struggle and a joy. It has meaning and purpose. That is my choice, it is not everyone’s.

A life of meaning is almost always an echo of the hero journey. We live the familiar, set out into the unknown, we enter dark and frightening places. If we are fortunate, we encounter magical helpers, often in the form of spirits or animals, we discover our myths and live them, the helpers guide us through to the other side. Or we fall into the abyss, we vanish into the darkness, and are never whole again.

I want to tell those friends who assure me they are seeking a life of meaning that such a life is frightening. Time is precious, a meaningful life cannot be scheduled down the road. John Updike said writers don’t talk about writing, they write. I believe the same is true of those seeking a life of meaning and purpose. There is no day job to get one safely through the journey, no retirement plan or pension that guarantees fulfillment.

I knew all along that if I waited until the end of my life, until I had safety and security, to pursue love and a life of creativity then it would be too late for me. And too difficult. For me, there is nothing safer or more secure or more important than a life of fulfillment in the pursuit of heart and soul.

A few years ago, when I began taking photographs, I drove all around Washington County with my border collie Izzy, my first hospice dog. We set out in a bitter winter and came across Kinney Road, a country road with a big sky and some barns and farmhouses backlit by the setting sun. It was bitterly cold, Izzy would jump out of the country and lie in the grass, I wandered around with my tripod trying to catch the sunset, they were among my first photos, and they helped keep me sane and grounded, it was the darkest time of my life.

I think I was trying to kill myself in some ways, I wandered Kinney Road in the darkness, wearing dark blue shirts and jeans. Once a truck clipped my tripod and it almost took my ear off, and I can’t count the number of times cars speeding down the road nearly got me. I guess I have a lot more to live for now, and I can’t imagine doing that again.

Since we moved to from the first Bedlam Farm, I have not been near Kinney Road, something stops me from going back. But I may have found another place to capture the beauty of the rural sky, the rural sunset, Route 61, just a few miles from our farmhouse. I’ve driven it before but never stopped at dusk until tonight, when an ugly storm system began approaching from the West. Maria came along with her sketchpad, yelling at me to look back and get out of the road. Red stays in the car, in the back seat.

A gorgeous road, with a big sky and rolling hills. Kinney Road marked one time in my life, I think Route 61 will mark another. When artists and writers and photographers find a place they love, they return again an again. I think I have found another Kinney Road.

According to Chief Arvol Looking Horse, the traditional leader of the Lakota clan of the Sioux Nation, the appearance of white animals heralds a time of great urgency for the Earth and for humanity as a whole. It is said the appearance of such unusually colored animals is a sign, an omen calling for us a people to unite and walk as one, to see past our divisions and conflicts, past the color of our neighbor’s skin or the ancestry of their people and to come together and embrace one another as brothers, sisters and related children of the one Earth Mother.

The lambs watch me, they look me in the eyes, they permit me to come close to them, hold them, feed them. They symbolize a coming together for me, they speak to a great human awakening. There is something different about these lambs, they are unlike any others that I have had or have now. They remind me of the importance of a spiritual life, a life of meaning and purpose and strength. I cannot cure the ills and sorrows of the world, I can only deal with me, one step at a time. I’m not certain what will come of them, I am listening.

My friend Scott Carrino and I work to make time for each other, Scott is frantically busy with his new cafe and there is a lot going on in my life as well. He came by today to see the white lambs and donkeys and visit and he helped us bottle feed Deb and Jake, Ma’s twins. Scott is a nurturing man, he loved holding the lamb with one hand and the bottle with the other.

He had done this before. Next week, Scott and I are resuming our barter – writing lessons in exchange for Tai Chi lessons. I am eager to return to it.

Maria checks on Zelda most mornings, she is doing fine. She has mellowed a bit, but is still vigilant and dominant. I do not see any signs that she remembers lambing, and she is not looking around for lambs. Her udder is drying up, she is eating well and moving around, grazing as normal. I’m sorry not to have seen her lamb, it would have been special. Maybe another time.