Another Labyrinth, Another Lesson...

   Every time I find a new labyrinth I find a new lesson to be learned, especially in the less formally created ones.  I think that may be part of the joy of discovering labyrinths.  Each seems to be unique to the location you find them in...each has a message to give us.

   At the Rolling Ridge conference center there was a double labyrinth, each a bit different.  But one thing I found interesting about them is their use of standing stones along the path.  They seemed to me to be silently watching sentinels guiding your journey.  (I tried not to think of them as gravestones but that might be another message!)

   It was early in the season of course so the paths were not raked of their autumn leaves but I actually liked walking on the fallen leaves; leaves that were returning to their source which we all must do in the end. There was quite a bit of moss as well...soft and inviting and I felt compelled to reach down and feel it.

   The biggest challenge to these labyrinths was the fact that they were built around trees.  You had to step over or around the roots and at some points it was a bit unclear where to go even though a labyrinth is usually a clear path.

   Perhaps when the paths are raked it will be more obvious.  This got me thinking about the challenges we face every day even if our path forward is clear.  Even when we are on a path that is well delineated we must remain vigilant...there are so many opportunities to stumble, so many obstacles that can trip us up!

   The following are the five parts of labyrinth walking as I define the process.  If you set out on this form of walking meditation you might like to try them.

Letting Go:  Spend a few minutes before you actually begin your walk shedding the concerns you might be carrying with you.   Symbolically wrap them up and let them stay to one side.  You can pick them up later when you return from your inner journey.  You might want to focus your walk on one idea, one thought that is weighing on your mind. Make it your intention.  Spend a moment imbedding it in your heart and try to quiet your mind to all other thoughts.

Concentrated walking:  Walk into the labyrinth, into its sacred space with reverence.  Set your own pace.  This is not a race to the center!  Walk slowly and with intention; feel the freedom to stop from time to time.  I keep my eyes on the path right in front of my feet.  I don't look at my "goal" and I take it one step at a time. I will sometimes repeat a phrase or word that is linked to my intention for the walk. Some people like to listen to music as they walk but I just like to hear my footsteps, the wind in the trees and any birdsong that might be there.  I try to welcome them all into my experience.

Centering Illumination:  When you do reach the center, spend some time centering yourself and opening your heart to hear any illumination you might receive.  Some people like to sit down and spend some time in the center...do what feels right for you. Do not be concerned if no grand insights are forth coming.  Labyrinth walking is like all forms of meditation.  You become more proficient at it the more you do it.

Journeying Back:   The journey back is, in some respects, as important as the journey to the center.  It is a time to integrate what you have come to know during your walk and process any feelings that might have arisen.  In pilgrimage, and a labyrinth can be seen as a pilgrimage, this stage is sometimes referred to as "bringing back the boon".  You want to incorporate any new thoughts you've gathered into your everyday life.

Crossing the Threshold:   The moment you step out of the sacred space of the labyrinth you must acknowledge this liminal moment.  I turn back and face the center and honor it in some way.  It might just be saying thank you...find a way to show your gratitude for the experience.  Pick up those concerns you left when you entered but you might, as I often do, simply leave them behind.  They sometimes don't feel all that important to me anymore.

   You can visit my labyrinth locator in the right side bar under links to find one near you.  Visit my my board on Pinterest for more labyrinth inspiration if you'd like...

Solvitur Ambulando...it is solved by walking

The Landscape as Silent Witness...

    Today I end a four day retreat on becoming a facilitator for SoulCollage®. It has been a wonderful experience. As I continue my study of SoulCollage®, I am beginning to forge connections in the process of creating the cards to my process of practicing contemplative photography and that is very exiting for me. One of the trans-personal cards you create for your SoulCollage® deck is the Witness card...mine is on the right.
   The Witness is defined as pure consciousness...

...a place to step into and detach.  It has no form, it has no shadow, and it is silent.

SoulCollage® Evolving, page 15

   Witness is also described as a mirror...never judging, merely reflecting back to us.  I realized as I read these words that this is, in many ways, how I view the landscape I photograph.  It is the great and silent witness and anything we might see can only be a reflection of what we bring to the experience.

   When we bring our fixed ideas and prejudices into the landscape, that is what we will see reflected back to us.  If I begin to see the landscape as the silent witness I can open up a channel of deep connection with it for I try to be a silent witness too, especially during my visual listening exercises.  Open, accepting, non-judgmental.  I truly begin to  embrace the idea that what I stare into is, to paraphrase Rumi, also staring into me!

   This is a whole different way to view the landscape.  It is not a passive, dead space but a living reflection of divine manifestation.  It has its own energy and can interact with us on a spiritual level.  I can't "prove" this scientifically.  I can only understand it on a experiential level.  I  know that when I am in the landscape and fully open to this energy I feel it most profoundly.  Then the encounter becomes a kind of co-mingling of energy.  When that happens I sometimes forget to pick up the camera altogether!   It is enough to just be there soaking it all in.

Retreat, dear friend, Retreat...

   I retreated to the Rolling Ridge Conference center in North Andover, Massachusetts

for a SoulCollage® facilitator's training this weekend. These words, painted on the wall, greeted me when I walked through the front door of the center.

   I try to go on at least two retreats each year.  Unlike this one, which has a purpose, I usually try to go for a quiet time in a special place...no agenda, no expectations, just heavenly peace and solitude.

   I think everyone should try to schedule these sorts of escapes.  They charge the contemplative batteries, I find.  Our minds are so full with the concerns of the day-to-day turmoil that we have to give ourselves permission to tune out from time to time.

   I also find that there is always some gentle lessons the landscape around the retreat centers gift me when I'm there.  It never fails.  I just open up to the possibilities and the images find me.

    I spent the hour or so before I checked in walking the grounds of the old estate.  I discovered a double labyrinth and some old fountains aching for restoration. (I was pleased to learn that there are plans in the works to accomplish that huge feat.)  Mainly, it was just wonderful to see the landscape coming to life, the birds singing and no snow!

   Despite the full agenda of this weekend, I plan to do several contemplative strolls and see what presents itself.  The weather seems willing to co-operate with me so I will be posting some "breadcrumbs" next week.  I recommend you try to find a retreat center near to you this year and retreat, dear friend, retreat!  Here is a link to my Pinterest site for some ideas...

Places to Learn, Create and Enjoy

My Cup of Inspiration Runneth Over...

   I am not on Facebook (that's a whole other story!) but I have embraced Google+, another on-line social media network and here's why.  I find so many inspirational things, I can't fit them all on this blog.  So, now I post the "spill over" on Google+.  Many are not photography related in the strictest sense but they are just plain interesting nonetheless.  Like my discovery of Friendship, Maine artist Brian White.

   White fashions beautiful clothing out of seashells.  "Island Bride" is totally breathtaking.  You can see it at the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts, the oldest museum in the US being founded in 1799 and one of my all time favorite places to spend a day.

   My ancestors, on my mother's side, were sea captains who sailed out of Portland, Maine in the mid-1800's.  I've always been transfixed by the sea and the sailor's artistic creations, like scrimshaw and the shell valentines, that they would make on their long journeys.  This dress references the latter New England craft tradition and takes it one step further as all great art does.

   You never know where one inspiration will lead you...check out the link to my Google+ home page from time to time to see what has inspired me lately.  The link is always available in the links section of the side bar.



  

Spirit and Substance...

   All things have a dual nature...they are both spirit and substance.  Everyone recognizes the later, the material nature of things, but far fewer understand the former...the spirit contained within the object itself.

   Let's take the common toaster as an example.  We can easily see what it is, a device for toasting bread.  That is what it is, that is its substance and for most people it is nothing more.  But when we try to see into the simple toaster, when we try discern its essential spirit, we see so much more.

   Now, let me make this clear.  I'm know speaking of spirit in any religious sense.  We know that the toaster is an inanimate object...a non-living thing.  No, the spirit I am speaking of is the pure essence of its meaning; what it does in its most essential expression of its substance.  A toaster warms and alters bread; it does a job that is necessary and by so doing it is expressing it's meaning.  When it does it well, when its form fuses with its function, it is existing at its highest level which is why the Museum of Modern Art has examples of toasters in their collection.

   I came to understand this way of looking at objects through the study of Shaker design, especially their furniture designs and architectural forms, like the exquisite spiral staircase at Pleasant Hill Kentucky Shaker village.  The form of the staircase, its substance, is inextricably linked to its function and spirit.  I had traveled 1,000 miles last April to photograph that staircase.  It was well worth the trip.

   Walking down those stairs was a wonderful experience; my hand guided by a beautifully shaped and flowing banister, the stairs illuminated from natural light above.  All the years I had admired this staircase in pictures I was merely acknowledging its substance.  When I walked up and down it I was able to celebrate and enter into its spirit.

   When we are able to understand the spirit of a thing then we are far more likely to create meaningful photographs of it.  We are not merely documenting it's substance, it's "thingness", we are revealing in its spirit.  Simple still life and architectural photography take on whole new meanings when looked at it as an exercise of revealing the spirit of the inanimate object.  One only has to think of the pepper studies of Edward Weston to understand the way a gifted photographer can reveal the spirit behind the substance.

What does it mean to be a contemplative photographer?

   Let me say this right up front.  Contemplative photography is not so much something you do but something you are.   The operative word in the title of this post is BE.

    Having all the "right" equipment and taking all the "right" workshops will not make you a contemplative photographer.  Having the right mindset, one devoid of judgement, cultivating a vision that sees the beauty and meaning in the ordinary and the metaphors in the landscape and equipping your heart with the ability to stay open to the mysterious and unexpected...now you are on your way to embracing photography as a contemplative practice.

   Instructors can teach you all about your camera and ways to perfect your photographic images.  Only you can teach yourself how to become a contemplative photographer; it is that personal a process.  And like all forms of education, you first need to see the value in it before you will want to learn anything about it.

   Some people melt seamlessly into the idea of contemplative photography while others see no point to it at all.  Both are right.  If you found this blog by chance then it is because you were seeking something you couldn't quite put your finger on.  This is how I have found most things of value in my life.  Simply asking the questions will lead you to what it is that will speak to you and resonate with you.  Those things will shimmer somewhere inside and then you will know you are on the right path.  Perhaps, contemplative photography could be the path for you.


   Abdicating some of the control is an important first step in the process.  Let the images find you.  Believe me, they will.  When I first began embracing contemplative photography, on my trip to the Western Isles back in 2005, I tried a little experiment.  One day I venture forth with no plan in mind; no per-determined destination to journey to.  I expected nothing and I tried, very hard, to stay open to whatever presented itself to me.  It was an eye-opening experience.  I immediately felt a lightness of spirit.  I had nothing to prove and I felt happily content with everything I encountered.  I let circumstance direct me and it led me to a remote and stunningly beautiful place I probably would never have found.  I made the photograph above of a solitary standing stone, a favorite of mine from the trip.

   I didn't realize at that time that I was beginning the journey of the contemplative photographer.  I just knew that my little experiment open up possibilities for me that didn't fit in with the traditional photographic process I had been taught to do.  I still had a long way to go but it was a small start.

   What had begun as a scripted and goal oriented journey to the Western Isles of Scotland in 2005 evolved into a free flowing encounter with the landscape.  I was hooked.  Try it yourself and see; then you will begin to understand what it means to be a contemplative photographer.

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Footnote: 

   You might like to explore the idea of contemplative photography on a retreat to Star Island over Labor Day weekend.  Just click on the announcement to the right to find out more details. Spending a few days in a contemplative location with like minded people will go a long way in giving you a better understanding of what it means to be a contemplative photographer.  It may also give you an insight into whether this may be a path for you.  At the very least, it will be a first step.

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My Threshold Pilgrimage - Part Five: More Musings on Thresholds

Threshold in the hutong district of Beijing, China

   My idea of "threshold" is evolving.  It is expanding and ripening as I continue to prepare for my trip.  Today, I will explore the concept from an Eastern perspective.

   On my trip to China in 2002 I was totally enthralled with the ancient culture.  It is where I developed my love of Taoist thought and walking on the Great Wall ranks right up there as one of my top 3 life experiences. (The other two are swimming with dolphins in Bermuda and visiting "ground zero" at Nagasaki, Japan)

    We spent an afternoon in the ancient hutong district in Beijing and it was there I learned about a new way of regarding the "threshold".

   In the entrances to the houses in the hutong, the threshold was a high stone.  The more important the personage dwelling there, the higher the stone.  It was a symbol of rank but even the least important had a stone of 8-10".  It was to keep the luck of the home from flowing out.

   You never, ever, stepped on a threshold.  You stepped over it.  Men stepped over left foot first, women right foot first.  The height of the stone and the stepping ritual was meant to slow a person down so that the passage over and into was done with deliberation and respect.

My hand painted noren cloth

    Five years later, in Japan, I learned about the noren.  The noren is a decorated cloth that hung in a doorway, both internal doors as well as external ones.  The outer ones designated shop names and could be quite long...keeping dust out of the shop.  I was told that it also served a much more subtle purpose.  A person had to bend their head to pass into a room...a sign of humbling oneself and showing respect, characteristics highly prized in traditional Japanese culture.

   Both of these threshold examples remind us that the experience of "crossing over" should be done deliberately and with respect.  Ritual and ceremony at life's crucial thresholds has diminished in our Western culture.  Rites of passage are less important now than in the past.  Perhaps, that is an unfortunate thing.  Some moments should be approached with thoughtful consideration.  Some passages deserve more than a Hallmark card.

   Preparing for this trip has taken on a ceremonial tenor for me.  Each part, from writing in my vade mecum, preparing my packing list, reading special books and musing on thresholds, has brought me slowly and respectfully  into the experience of this pilgrimage.  I want to approach this journey with a gradually maturing sense of awe and gratitude.  I am truly blessed to be able to make this journey at all and I'm well aware of this.  This series of posts prior to my departure are made to illustrate the need to make the departing as important as the journeying itself.  Each has its role to play.