I remember being two years old. I wouldn’t call this consciousness, however. This came to me much later when I was almost eighteen or twenty. Like so many of us, I was frustrated by the slow realization, a kind of fog lifting, that it was not going to be easy — this thing called “life.” I was reticent to surrender my relative freedom as a spoiled and pampered male child, but surrendering it was apparently a necessity. A recent article on the BBC claims that many present post-millennials, (1) however, do not leave adolescence until they are twenty-four or more. Some would even question whether they do not eventually join the herds that never become mature at all. The acceptance of the physical destruction of our Earth, for example, does not suggest a deeply concerned populace, does it?  

Continue reading Do you remember what it was like at the beginning? →

What we most certainly admire about the artist, in any field, is their unbridled devotion to their craft. Many live an addled, tortured existence in their deepest desire to magnify their gift and bring it out into the world. As individuals, we hold a grudging respect and, some would say, admiration for the individual who has “thrown all caution to the wind” and bears down to create that one “what if piece.” What if I had not existed: would this creation have been brought to the world? In every breast beats the heart of the artist filled with curiosity and power and magnificence. We fail to act on this impulse because we do not like the consequences. This is one of those numerous apocryphal tales that wreak havoc on the aspirations of young people: that of the drunken, dissolute – and impoverished – virtuoso. It is better to live a life of quiet desperation than to step out into the world and take a chance – and maybe fail – with my life. “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city, you go into the desperate country and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.” (1)

Continue reading Passion: from whence all joy springs →

Many years ago, during a moment of personal crisis, a friend of mine took me into a local park to visit a “magical tree”: his description, not mine. He had heard that the traditional people used to come to visit a giant spruce (1) for solace and inspiration, and had decided to try its healing powers. Now he wanted to share his experience with me. I find that all good friends are deeply concerned when you have problems and are always willing to help. This was a bit much, though. I went along mostly to humor him. The forest was confined by the local city and its suburbs. What is so interesting about the urban park phenomenon is that no one has told the trees that they are to be constrained or limited. As soon as we left the developed environs, the forest unfolded her charms. The noise stopped and was filled with the soft “cooing” of the birds, bugs and undulating leaves which is the signature of all natural and unlimited life. As we walked along the earthen path and penetrated further and further into the wilderness, if you could call it such, my frustrations and anxieties seemed to be less and less important. We are often told that our perception of the world (2) is the created reality that we occupy: all actuality is created by the self. This is easy to read and attempt to put into practice but much, much harder to do. I was reminded by something that I read from Anne Frank (1929-1945) “Look at all of all the beauty still left around you and be happy. … I’ve found that there is always some beauty left — in nature, sunshine, freedom, in yourself; these can all help you. … I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains. … The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy amidst the simple beauty of nature. … I firmly believe that nature brings comfort in all troubles.” (3)

Continue reading Our dance with nature: is it a waltz or a tango? →

As I was out for a walk the other day, I passed countless people on the path coming in the opposite direction. This got me to thinking: until the very recent past, most of us propelled ourselves by our two feet. Other methods did exist: the palanquin, the sleight, the chariot, the buggy and the horse to name but a few. But for the most part, we walked. There is something about just slowing down and walking, isn’t there? Firstly, that “age-old gift” that few of us have time to subscribe to anymore is brought forward: thought. When we walk, we have time to think — think about the dilemmas that plague our daily lives: taxes, children, careers, our place in the cosmos—the list is understandably endless. It is, after all, my process of thought and not yours. You can’t help but surmise that, if every world leader was forced to walk for some distance before making a monumentous decision, the world would be a more peaceful place. “Many people nowadays live in a series of interiors…disconnected from each other. On foot everything stays connected, for while walking one occupies the spaces between those interiors in the same way one occupies those interiors. One lives in the whole world rather than in interiors built up against it.” (1)

Continue reading Your life adventure: are you ready? →