Lanterns

“My lantern, my lantern.."

I saw much love this night: A warm hug from a late arriving parent, a loving arm placed around a spouse. It was the coldest evening thus far, yet no place could have been warmer in spirit. Warm lemon tea was dished out to chilled hands; “savory roasted veggie” and “chicken pesto” roll-ups were served out too. Parents and children sat around the fire, on blankets, and on laps, singing.

All the children at the Pre-school were ready to begin the school's annual Lantern walk.  The children had their felted lanterns, with their little candles shining; all the parents had their children, their little lights to guide; the teachers had their lanterns and a song on their lips; and I, I was without both lantern and guide. I walked alone, behind the others, trailing my dust behind.

I had of course not properly prepared. I considered prior bringing an old lantern of my own, but felt certain the school would provide an extra for me. I also had not learned the song, thus was without that too. It reminded me of how I generally have a lax trust in the Universe. I trust that I will be provided for to the point of not mentally or physically doing anything in preparation.  It fast became a lesson about Life: One actually has to make an effort if one wants anything to turn out [well]. God does not hand out help liberally. He requires that we work on ourselves and on creating the tools that can help light our way through the Unknown. There are lights/guides along the path, set up by those who have come before, but every moment we have the choice to follow or choose our own path through the woods. This time, without my own light, I followed the heard.

Later by the fire I stood beside a little boy I had taken to (for I can tell he’s an introvert and highly sensitive too). He looked up at me and said in the most off-handed distress, “I’m tired of holding my lantern”, his arm going limp at the thought. I suggested he switch hands, while at the same time reaching my own hand out. I left it lowered, moving it back and forth until he got the hint that I was offering to take his burden; it would be no burden to me. After a moment’s consideration he moved his hand towards mine and I clasped the lantern gratefully. I got to have a lantern that night after all.

 I got to hold the tool that would light my way through the darkness. And it ironically came through helping relieve another. But we each do have the burden to carry our own light (piece of God). Through such a gathering as this, it became clear that we are not alone in this.

We each need to step up to Light our way Home; yet sometimes help comes in the smallest packages.

"Simplify, Simplify"

“As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler; solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness weakness.” –Henry David Thoreau

As if from heaven, I am sent another New York Times Style Magazine. Why is it that so much deep insight should come from such an unlikely source? Surely not everyone is happening upon the wisdom I appear to be hand-picked to receive.

The article I am speaking about is actually the Editor’s Letter from the September 28, 2014 issue; the magazine being aptly named “The Power of Refusal”.

It starts off by saying that generally, happy people are those who say yes to things, people and situations. However, it is the conscious ones who say no. These people, the editor notes, have “the confidence to reject trends or conventions—whether of living, dressing or decorating—that don’t feel uplifting or authentic” (34).

Of course, this translates to more than style or fashion. It is about moving beyond the superfluous to the essentials. Moving beyond the “add-ons” to what really matters. This could be in education, art, music, food, religion.

The letter specifically is in reference to interior design choices to curtail rather than to over-do. “Of course, the desire to shun excess, to live more simply, is really the domain of those who live in abundance, of those who could easily have more.” The magazine editor admits that seeing the value in less is for those who can afford to.

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House-sitting in the country I find such solace in looking out at the trees, staring into the day’s diamond clear skies, and the night’s fog-ridden abyss; feeding chickens and petting goats, sampling organic soaps and foods, and knowing that all is well with the world, at least here. It is the simple life, but it is a good one.

Many people really do live without many things, fine or simple, having no choice in the matter. These people therefore make it their mission (or resentment), to have more.

 Take fictional character Jay Gatsby, who, born and raised by poor farmers in the Midwest, made it his mission to pursue the Good Life. The grand house, the super-charged car, the wild parties, he got it all…his version of the Good Life anyway; and all for Daisy (or his idea of her.) His dream died because he didn’t see in time that life could never bring him the happiness he wanted, not really.

The Great Gatsby has many lessons and morals, but one idea that recurs is that of Identity. Are we really what we identify with? Do the things we purchase, pursue, or achieve define who we are? By our culture’s standards, yes, that is all that we are. Sometimes, however, we try too hard to be someone/something we are not, and thus live in such a way that is neither uplifting nor authentic. And others can tell. And we die unfulfilled.

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We must see that our value lies beyond society’s dictates; it transcends even our own comprehension most of the time. We must get in touch with that part of ourselves that is the uncorruptable core. This core is uncomplicated, unembellished, and unequivocally who we are. When we can find a way to truly go within, we find the ability to naturally live without. And then our world, instead of frittered away in detail, becomes rooted around the essentials of life: peace, joy and love; which ultimately come from within only to be reflected in life without.

As Thoreau urged, “Simplify, simplify.”

It can’t be simpler than that.

"Sprawl"

Were we to know the world of today 150 yrs ago, I think we would have, after having a conniption, started heading back to the Renaissance.

[Frustration]

Where are the old book barns, with books piled upon kindly books; where no amount of solitude and no number of titles begun was too much? Where are the quiet country lanes that pass over brooks and meander around shy hills? Where are the meadows and fields to ramble across on your way to you know not where (only to discover you’d better head back before you lose your way entirely)?

These are the things I yearn for: To have time for reflection on one’s own life; a space to call one’s own, for a little bit; a place of “beauty, peace and joy for you and me”. Perhaps this is not reasonable anymore. And to not have to drive more than 20 minutes to this said place! Whatever happened to the world of Larkrise? We are the patrons of a very modern Candleford.

There is one necessary evil of human evolution that I cannot condone: sprawl.

HA! To think I even complain of sprawl when there are places like Phoenix where you literally cannot escape the sprawl except to drive miles and miles only to hit desert. And perhaps that would be a welcome in comparison to what was left behind. I cannot say.

I guess I yearn for travel, deep down. Escape. Freedom from care, work or worry.

But it is more than that. It is Solitude. But not in a dreary, chilled house in summer; it can only be found on sunny days and select novels.  It’s more than Wanderlust, as it requires for certainty of Self not a distant location but an inner locution.

We seek a wild Unknown that has only to be discovered by lifting off the veil of our own Uncertainty. And it comes by way of Woods and Words.

I have known it before. That is what makes it all the more sad that it is now missing. My mind races ahead for all the things I might do today. Or tomorrow. Or next week. But then my body gets as morbid as my mind soon becomes, for I cannot realize what I so desire.

‘Tis a sad fate when you can’t escape the neon signs and the broken sidewalks with flickering street lamps by night, or properly welcome the sunlight of day except by an effort that seems superhuman after coming down sick…

I need the Solitude that night brings in broad daylight. Is that too much to ask?

“I need the darkness, someone please cut the lights.”

"UnBeige"

We’ve all seen it: the off-white couch, with the white walls, and beige pillows. The beige living room is ubiquitous in home and décor magazines of late. Harking back to the 1990’s and early 2000’s, the “new neutrals” have pervaded the world of design, becoming a mixed blessing. Words that make the color scene seem appealing are: shabby chic, romantic, cottage, French country, new country ….however, when it comes to this somewhat insipid shade, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

A few months ago I stumbled across a design blog aptly named. It’s called UnBeige. Apparently, the blog was named after the graphic designer, Tibor Kalman, who believed cream and off-white were “the color choices of those afraid to offend.” In his own words, “when you make something no one hates, no one loves it.” Two editors were recently hired for the blog because of their inclination in design towards “imperfections, quirkiness, insanity, unpredictability.”

Unfortunately, this inclination towards neutral is rather easy to slide into. This is what makes it so dangerous, if a color can be dangerous.

Beige works in magazine pictures when there is variety: variety of texture, color, items and furniture. Also requisite is a small colorful flower arrangement and/or openness to the outdoors (and green!) It is most sad when the only color visible in the room is found in the flowers and the text displayed (perfectly photo-shop matched).

 Beige works in a room when there is originality of ornament: vintage pieces, antique finds, old books, unique wallpaper, unvarnished wood floor boards, bold accents, and keepsakes artfully displayed. If there is not enough of this bohemian variety, the result is less than desirable (at least in my eyes).

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Having a white/beige room is easy. And maybe that’s why so many people opt for it. However, choosing all neutrals is not a choice; it is the antithesis of choice. You are choosing no-color. If the owners realize how dull their house becomes (that is a big if), then they may think they can salvage their couch coverings and wall color by adding “pops of color”. Yes, anyone can add “pops of color”; it’s easy. Easy doesn’t always mean beautiful, artistic or well done. In fact it seldom does.

I get that having a neutral couch color can in fact allow for more colorful decorating choices around and on the couch. But then that means make those colorful, bold choices; and don’t be afraid to have too much fun.

As it suggests on SheKnows.com, “rooms should be grounded with neutral creams, and the rest of the palette can be bold and bright.”

So if your personality is just Beige, so be it, have a room that reflects that. But if you are more bold and colorful, don’t let me see you watering down your design sense because of some passing trend that should never have been one.