27 May

Chasing Sunsets, Route 61. In Search Of A Life Of Meaning

by Jon Katz
A Life Of Meaning
A Life Of Meaning

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.

17 September

Chasing Sunsets. The Mindful Life. Magic Time.

by Jon Katz
Last Light
Last Light

In  way, I have been chasing sunsets my whole life. When I was a kid, I hid from my troubles in a big Providence Cemetery, the safest place I knew,  and watched the sun set over the tombstones. I chased sunsets on beaches, parks, over city skyscrapers. Izzy and I chased sunsets when I became a photographer, and i have chased them nearly every day since. Sometimes I even catch one, as I did today in the deep woods near our farm, I saw the sun settle down through the trees, saw the last rays cut across the forest floor, the sun seemed to be speaking to me, sending it’s long and graceful fingers right to my feet.

There is no more beautiful way to end a day than to chase a sunset, be mindful of time and color and light and meaning and nature, all in one gesture and time. This is the boundary between day and night, a magical and spiritual time, I could have reached out and touched the last rays, instead I blew them a kiss, mad fool that I am.

24 November

Chasing Sunsets, Hanks Road

by Jon Katz
Chasing Sunsets, Hanks Road

Some of you may remember my chasing sunsets with my beautiful dog Izzy, who would hop out of the car and watch me set up my camera and dodge trucks and cars by the side of country roads. Today I was chasing sunsets with Maria and Red and I was rewarded with the sun falling behind this big flag on the old Hanks Farm on Hanks Road in Salem, N.Y. I am a warrior for light since Izzy’s time, but I always think of Izzy when I was out driving around those cold and wind country roads. He always charmed the farmers who would appear out of nowhere with rifles, wondering what a stranger was doing with a fancy camera near their cows and barns. It’s just me and Izzy, I would say, chasing sunsets.

9 August

Do I Dare? Chasing The Mysteries Of Life

by Jon Katz
Do I Dare?

Each day, I feel closer to saying goodbye to my beautiful farm, to letting go of it and setting off with Maria and the animals on a new adventure.  The farm is letting me go, and I am letting it go and this is not, I know, easy or simple for either of us. My very soul is in the ground here. But I am restless, eager. I want to understand the mysteries of life and I think the choice thrust upon most of is is to seek that path, or the other path. To fear the mysteries of life and run, crossing to safety wherever we can. We either dare or we don’t dare, and there are so many voices telling us why we cannot, should not, must not dare to answer the call to life. It is, after all,  terrifying.  I understand it, I don’t judge anyone who chooses to avoid it.

For me, the rewards have been great – love, light, feeling and emotion, a different kind of creativity, a deepening spiritual connection to the animal world that is bringing me new understanding of life and death every day. All of this is beginning to infuse my writing. It was so often missing before. If the rewards are great, so is the fear, loss, pain and suffering. But that is a struggle story, and I have become allergic to that. Yesterday I sat with my friend Warren Cardwell as he lay dying and never once did he suggest that death was unfair, that he was not ready, that he had suffered too much or suffered at all. I have no complaints, he whispered to me, I lived my life. No reason to grieve that life, I thought.

A beautiful epitaph, one for me to live up to. When I came to Bedlam Farm, I set out on the hero journey. I was seeking love and connection. I was seeking to free the artist inside of me. I was seeking a deeper understanding of the world so I could write my books with more depth and feeling. I was seeking maturity, clarity,  integrity, authenticity. I am not there yet, no human gets there, I think, but I know it is time for the next step, the move to the next place.  Life is short, life is precious. Yesterday I cried over an e-mail I got from a wonderful woman was terrified to adopt a child until she read the blog and thought about fear and challenge, and she decided her love was more important than her fear, and she loves her new child deeply. How humbling and shocking that message was.

So I will keep going. The people who love the farm are coming, they are near, I can feel them. I am shedding the fear that breeds caution and gloom and struggle. I see the light everywhere, and it is calling to me, as it did yesterday on the way to my balloon ride and I looked up and saw the light rising over the Champlain Canal and jumped out of the car to capture it.

22 January

Chasing sunsets, McEachron Road

by Jon Katz
Chasing sunsets
Chasing sunsets

Like many photographers, I am always chasing the light. I love mornings and late afternoon, and do not like the strong sun of mid-day which bleaches hues and strains lenses. Driving to dinner in Glens Falls, I looked out of the truck window and saw the setting sun striking the faded yellow line, and yelled to Maria to pull over which she did, honking the horn so I would see the car rushing up behind me (I didn’t.) Wanted that shot for a long time. I love the space of the country, the sweep of it, reminds me of how broad and complex and grand life is.

Bedlam Farm