Thursday, February 22, 2007

The Process Of Happiness

For years at different intervals, on a regular basis I have met with an eminent psychologist. Today, it was as if I could not find a problem to discuss. For what seemed a long time, we sat smiling at each other. I admitted to feeling my life has become the process of happiness. The future, past, and present, are melded together—like a big dream that is TIME, and behind this dream is reality: GOD. As long as my journey is returning to GOD, then each moment, I am happy.
As precious Naomi said, “Everything is important, and nothing is important. Everything is illusion, back to GOD.” (See my book, A Heart Traced in Sand.) So it does not really matter where I am in space . . . palace, paradise, or hell, because my journey is always back to God, the source of my being and highest good. The path seems more mystical with every step.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

The Incredible Terrain

Drawing a nude model is such pleasure. The first few moments are the most fearsome because there is only a blank page and the pencil in my hand. The task seems intimidating, almost impossible, given the complexity and awesome grandeur of the subject. Once some marks have been made, then there are reference points upon which to build perspective and proportion. The human anatomy is like a marvelous and complicated landscape of rolling hills, fissures, caves, peaks, valleys and forests. To draw is to take a journey, looking intently while trying to map this incredible terrain. It is exhilarating to experience the process unfold. Then to see some measure of success in the outcome is quite satisfying. 
The Sicilian part of my sojourn is now fully arranged. I have plane tickets, 2 houses reserved and a car. After sending some supplies ahead, the only task then is simply arrive March 12.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Experiences are Equal

On weekends, after I awake and dress, I have been walking to a coffeeshop in the art district, about a half-mile away. Some winter mornings are freezing, and the walk seems quite longer going than returning. This morning has been warmer and immediately, every step along the way seemed enjoyable. The old, uneven sidewalk through the neighborhood seemed to be telling me its history. Birds in the tree branches overhead sang out their morning salute to the new day as I noted the soft sound of my footsteps.
On the way, my shadow was behind me, while returning, it stayed in front.
As usual, the return seemed shorter, and I wondered again: why? It is entirely perception. On the way, I am going to a place where I expect a pleasurable experience, and that expectation of better moments, makes me hurry to arrive. Impatience actually heightens my awareness of time so that it stretches out. Afterwards, my goal has been accomplished and the moments are unhurried, languid, and seamless—they seem compressed into one, and before I know it, I am home again. So the trick is to always be in a frame of mind that all experiences are equal, and that nothing is worth having more than the present moment, which is the goal. There is nothing to hurry to.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

The Invisible Thread

I am conscious of an invisible thread that weaves between my life and others. Even when I am alone, I sense the presence of others. We are bound together in profound ways that go beyond our understanding. When I recall someone in thought, in a way, I communicate with him or her telepathically. How many times has it happened that when I think of someone, they happen to call and say, “we must be on the same wavelength.” It is because of the invisible threads that bind us, and also act as lines of communication.
This weaving is sacred. When I think of someone, I am also sending love.

I went to a wonderful movie last night called Pan’s Labyrinth. It is by Mexican filmmaker Guillermo del Toro and has English subtitles for American audiences. Check out its fantastic website at