THE SPIRITUAL SWEETSPOT

Why do certain sounds, images, smells, or words have a way of entering deep into a place within us to evoke emotions that have no words?    Where is it that music can touch us and resonate with so much emotional power?

What does it mean to know something in your heart, and not in your head?  Or is it our gut that knows?  Our hearts, our guts, or how about our souls…we have named these “places” that we cannot know.

Here is what I think about this place:

It is certainly not anatomical; it is numinous, existing in or around everyone, perhaps only a confluence of emotions.  But it is real, in the sense that it can be felt or experienced, and as a result has the power to influence our behavior, our life, and our sense of self.  It is all of these things, and more.  It is the human spirit.

It is in this place that we fully understand who we are, and what we can become.  I believe we are born with certain potentials to achieve as well as certain limitations, some absolute and others vulnerable to change by nurturing and by circumstances.  We enter this world with a set of psychological patterns or temperament that, along with experience and circumstances, mold our personalities.

Everyone experiences or finds this place in there own unique way.  For some it is a source of inner strength and resolve, and for others a way to cope and recover.  It is here that some people find their God, a source of spiritual enlightenment and joy.  I imagine there are as many different experiences as there are individuals, all sharing some basic similarities (Jung’s Collective Unconscious?)

My own experiences have given me an unshakable belief in the existence of this spiritual sweet spot.

SOMETIMES I JUST DON’T KNOW

Dec 2007

Sometimes I just don't know.

 

And this is one of those days; I walk around the studio and into the gallery, looking at all the work, and I just don’t know.  What am I doing and why am I doing it?

There is no firm ground on which to stand.  Just when I think I have found the place, it shifts beneath my feet throwing me off balance.  My head tells me...this is the way it is, this is the journey, and the destination is secondary.  I know this, and yet.  There is always an “and yet”; the heart simply cannot keep up with the head, or is it the other way around, with the heart being one or two steps ahead?

I have completed 2 new paintings, and neither reflects any enthusiasm.  Another is in progress, and I am excited about the prospects, and yet...the nagging question...why am I doing this. 

Often, writing about something will lead me to an understanding, if not an answer.  But I don’t know if that will be the case this morning.  I hope so.  I really want to find that that center, that place where everything comes together.

I cannot stop thinking about David, my parents, Cathy, and all of the gentle people I knew, and all that I never knew.  Some have gone before their time and others in their time, and thinking about them makes me sad.  I thought I wanted to be happy today, to paint freely with loud music bouncing around the studio.  But perhaps I really want to be sad; maybe this is one of those days when we feel the need to quietly wrap ourselves in a soft blanket of melancholy and remember the ones we loved and lost.  This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, perhaps we have to do this periodically to keep our balance in life.

I Think I will listen to harry Chapin, Jerry Orbach, Luciano Pavarotti, Johnny Cash, and John Denver, celebrating their lives, even as I mourn for David, my parents, and Cathy.

Sometimes you just don’t know where writing in a journal will lead you.

(From my book, The Simple Life.)

NURTURING THE SOUL

Why do certain sounds, images, even smells, enter deeply into a place within us to evoke emotions that have no words?    Where is it that they rest and resonate with so much power? When we say we know something in our heart or in our gut, as opposed to our head, are we referring to this same place, a place that knows and feels? 

It is certainly not anatomical; it is numinous, existing in or around everyone, perhaps only a confluence of emotions buried deep in the unconscious realm of our minds.  But it is real. And although we cannot see or touch it, it can be felt or experienced, and has the power to influence our behavior, our life, and our sense of self.  It is all of these things, and more.  It is the human spirit that defines our humanity and enables those elements that make us more than an organic machine: dreams, hopes, and imagination.  It gives us art, compassion, love, and empathy. It is in this place that we fully understand who we are, and what we can become. 

We experience it is so many ways: a source of inner strength and resolve, a way to cope and/or recover, a moment of inspiration, an epiphany, or a moment of spiritual enlightenment. It is here that some people find their God,

I imagine there are as many different experiences as there are individuals, all sharing some basic similarities (Jung’s Collective Unconscious?)

It is our responsibility to nurture this spiritual sweet spot – the soul - and protect it from everything and everyone that would attempt to deny it.  There are a number of ways this can be accomplished: solitude, prayer, meditation, music, reading, writing, and sharing with others. We must each identify those elements that make us feel closest to ourselves.

For some, there is comfort in creating solitude, a respite from the noise and harsh demands of busy days.  One can sit quietly, listening to the sounds of silence, or use the time to enjoy special music, read an inspiration book, or write in a journal. Several years ago I wrote the following for my children:

“Sometimes we need all the help we can get in the pursuit of our dreams and aspirations, especially when they take us into unfamiliar places, and that support can often be found in the world around us.

Avail yourself of those activities and experiences that provide inspiration and stimulation.  Read books and journals, listen to music, travel, visit with friends, and pursue everything and anything else that inspires your mind and heart and is affirming to those dreams.  It may be as simple as quietly listening to your favorite music, or as involved as a weekend away to some special place.  You will recognize what it is that makes you feel alive and centered, and whatever that is, it is worthy of your time and attention.  Such small endeavors can provide critical support for great work.”

That we require care, both physical and emotional, is most obvious in the extremes of a lifetime, and in those times of severe crisis, regardless of the cause.  But what is not so obvious is the care needed to create and maintain a rich meaningful interior life at a time when we are outwardly healthy and secure and not facing a physical or mental crisis.

My goal has always been to live a centered life, one relatively free from the distractions and intrusion of external negative influences that threaten my purpose, my work, and my sense of self.  It hasn’t been easy, and I’ve learned to use all of the “tools” mentioned above.  Of these, solitude has been critical to any success I have had, time to listen to my own inner voice, the voices of others, and when possible, the voice of God.  They are all important to our understanding of who we are, and of them, I believe our own voice is the most important.  If we don’t fully understand both the bright and the dark sides of ourselves, we will be unable to clearly hear the other voices.

A HELLUVA SPECK

 “YOU ARE THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE

Well, not really, but you are the center of your universe.  The world you know is seen only through your eyes.  Words, images, and sounds are filtered through your consciousness and your heart…Ask yourself, what kind of world do you want for yourself, your family, and those you love, and then set out to create that world.”  (Excerpt from my book, Have I Told You Today That I Love You)

I have just finished reading a small but powerful little book (5x7” hardcover with 80 pages) titled, Seven Brief Lessons On Physics, by Carlo Rovelli, a theoretical physicist.  Rovelli presents a very brief outline of the current state of knowledge in the major branches of modern physics: Einstein’s general theory of relativity, quantum mechanics, cosmology and the architecture of the universe, elementary particle physics, quantum gravity, and heat and the probability of black holes.

It is a testament to the author’s writing that one is able to come away with the faintest sliver of understanding of these subjects.  I felt like I’d been allowed a very quick glance into a darkened room, enough to provide a vague impression of what I saw, but not enough to describe it to anyone else.  Because of the work of Carl Sagan, Neil DeGrass, and other scientists who have written for the lay-person, we are able to acquire enough knowledge to appreciate the indescribable vastness of the cosmos, in which our solar universe is but the tiniest speck. The Hubble telescope has revealed that our galaxy is one of over 100 million other galaxies with at least 10 trillion planetary systems in the known universe.  Earth is in one of those 10 trillion systems, and is home to almost 7 ½ billion men, women, and children.  To call us a speck in the universe would be a gross exaggeration.  We are more like a mini speck, or teensy weenie speck (maybe I should just stick with speck),

and the more we learn, the more we appreciate how much we do not know.

So I sit here, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible vastness that surrounds me, and I think to myself, it doesn’t make sense that tiny specks on another tiny speck in this universe have the capacity to imagine and learn as much as we do about our existence. Is nature playing a cruel joke on us? From a big bang at a time and distance far beyond anything we can imagine we have evolved (from nothing?) to a curious and intelligent speck.  And that wee little speck has the capacity to begin to understand the cosmos and its individual insignificance, which seems like a bad joke.  The more advanced we become, and the more we learn about the universe, the more we realize how unimportant we are in the grand scale of things.  On one hand I am grounded in the comfort and security of the self, and on the other I am shown how insignificant I really am. 

Perhaps life is like a single molecule that, along with untold others, creates an entity. We marry, have children, and create a family.  We interact with neighbors, and create a neighborhood.  Our neighborhood interacts with other neighborhoods to create a community.   Each entity reacts to be part of something larger, and everything works best when we learn how to keep one foot firmly grounded in our selves as individuals, and the other securely planted in the community, an attitude so elegantly described by Elizabeth O’Connor in her book, Journey inward, Journey Outward.

We may be a mere speck when it comes to exerting any influence on the universe, but we can hold our heads high because we are one hell of a speck.