A Trip to Bountiful

You don't have to tell me: I know the title belongs to a wonderful movie made from the play by Horton Foote. But the phrase is on my mind as I reflect on our recent annual pilgrimage to the Common Ground Fair. It strikes me as quite ironic that while the nation is in one of its worst financial crises, I am once again feeling like the recipient of the world's abundance. Nowhere is the bounty of the harvest more evident than at this fair.

This year we got to share the experience with our closest friends, D and J. It was their maiden voyage. I think they had a good time, based on the fact that D got to order those Quoddy Mocs he's been wanting for years, and J sought to recapture bygone days by attempting to keep a hula hoop in motion. She was actually pretty good!

J and I made a stop at the Trillium Soap booth, and made off with a bagful each of assorted aromatic bars. The soap, combined with the fresh bunches of sweet annie, filled the car with great scents for the ride home. I also found some baskets made in Vietnam that made a perfect home for the wool roving I recently purchased. Somehow the soap bars and the wool called to each other, so last night I felted 7 bars.


As if the fair wasn't enough bounty, J and D treated us to dinner at Maine's finest restaurant, Primo. My scallop entree was filled with a variety of the best local wild mushrooms, including hen-of-the-woods, and chanterelles. (And you know how I am about mushrooms!)

I don't mean to bore you here with the tedious details of my personal adventure. My point in all this is that a bountiful feeling is within reach of all of us, but sometimes we don't know where to look.

To be able to appreciate the abundance around you, you need to:

• live in a sufficiently simple way to see it when it comes.
• be in the moment so your channels are clear to witness the fortune you possess.
• share what you have to increase the flow of abundance in the life of others as well as yourself.

I'm no financial/economic wiz (Aren't you glad I'm not running for office?), but I do understand that the current economic crisis is the result of greed. When greed motivates us, we are unable to see the natural flow of abundance that can result from the three practices above.

The current presidential election is very important. This blog is not a platform for politics, but rather a voice for sanity. For the sake of sanity, I ask you to consider the following.

• Which candidate is asking you to live more generously, with more care and concern for those around you?
  
• Which candidate is calling upon you to be a better person, versus circling the wagons and selfishly keeping others from sharing the abundance that is ours?

copyright 2008 starfishdoc

Lars and the Real Girl

Dear Katie,

I finally got around to renting "Lars." Dave and I both enjoyed it at least as much as you imagined when you recommended it to me in January!

At first, Dave thought the premise was so unbelievable that it could never come together in any cogent way. But I was on board from the beginning. First of all, I've seen more clients with delusions like that than most people would think. And just like Lars's delusion about a blow-up doll being real enough for him to fall in love with, people with delusions are convinced that what they see is absolutely true.

Secondly, "participating in the delusion" until the client outgrows the need for it is a legitimate form of therapy. It doesn't work so well in these "realistic" and skeptical times, as you could never get a whole community to cooperate. But I love the fact that the movie got away with it so convincingly by setting it in a small town.

One viewing wasn't enough. When we watched it the second time, I saw how the townspeople got completely caught up in it, such that they all had to grieve the loss of Bianca right along with Lars. So funny. So touching. So true to the human heart and spirit. And I loved the approach that the doctor/psychologist took: never getting in the way, always walking along side Lars spiritually, poised and ready to facilitate the next step in his recovery, but never herself grandstanding about it or making herself out to be the heroine.

At the time you wrote about one scene:

Katie: But I thought of you because there is this bit of dialogue.

Lars's brother, Gus: We need to take him to a shrink
Lars's Sister-in-Law: We can take him to Dr. Dagmar.
Gus: Dagmar is a general practitioner. He needs a psychiatrist.
Sister in law: She's a psychiatrist, too. She told me you have to be if you live this far north.

I got a kick out of that, because practice up here in rural Maine does require some jack-of-all-trades approaches.

My favorite scene is also early in the movie when the church elders are upset because Lars wants to bring Bianca to services. They ask the pastor what they should do and his response is, "What would Jesus do?" Quick cut to the next scene showing Bianca in church!

Now I have to own the movie. I will never tire of watching it because it rings true despite its fantastic premise. If you haven't seen the extra features, you might want to give them a look. The actors all talk about working with Bianca as if she were flesh and blood: "she's very quiet," "she takes a really long time in makeup."

I'm so grateful that you let me know about Lars. Watching the approach taken by the doc in the movie was a timely reminder that going slowly and supporting the process that the client needs to follow almost always trumps being clever and pushy.

Many thanks. You can be my movie critic forever.

S

Copyright starfishdoc 2008

The Scoop on Routine and Change

In my last post I talked about "agency" and "communion," those polar opposites that require frequent balance and calibration. Well, that's not the only balance we need to strike in life to be mentally healthy. Another is the balance between "routine" and "change."

I had a conversation the other day with someone who had just recently moved a great distance. The furniture is not in place. The washer is not hooked up. The boxes containing those things that make life comfy and familiar haven't been located yet. My sincere sympathies. Having made a major move not so long ago, I know this discomfort all too well.

In another conversation, a friend with a disability described how the routine of being at home makes life easier. To venture into unfamiliar places creates anxiety and tension. The challenges imposed by a handicap make routine all the more important, even necessary.

We rely on routine to make our lives predictable and orderly. We put things in certain places so we can find them easily. A routine is something we do without having to think about it much.

At the opposite end of the continuum is change. Change teaches us flexibility, adaptability, resilience. Although there is a resistant part in all of us, healthy people recognize that change helps us push our personal envelope. Just as lack of routine suggests a problem, so does a high degree of resistance to change.

When life throws you into turmoil, finding ways to reintroduce some routine is a good thing. And when your life is so routine that you won't venture out of your comfort zone, you need a little change. So periodically, it's a good idea to check your routine/change continuum to see if re-balancing is in order.

Yesterday I noticed that a new ice cream stand has opened just about two miles from home. Normally, I'm not tempted by ice cream, but Gifford's is an exception. There's no doubt that I'll go. The only question is: should I order my old standby, French Vanilla or take a chance on Chocolate Moose Tracks?

Copyright 2008 Starfishdoc

Beginner's Mind

My daily meditation book offered this quote for the day:

If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities; in the expert's mind there are few.
-Shunryu Suzuki-roshi

So yesterday I decided to practice my beginner's mind. And a good thing it was.

It started out well enough. I had a morning meeting to attend: one that does not always inspire. As I sipped my pre-dawn coffee, my expert mind not only reminded me that this meeting is often tedious but also predicted that today's meeting would be no different. But my beginner's mind said, " You might be surprised."

Indeed, I was. The meeting was lively, fruitful and informative. Cool. This beginner's mind thing is working.

Next, I headed off to Portland to teach my afternoon class. It's the week before spring break, and one look at the sea of faces in this normally effervescent group told me most of them were in the Bahamas already. My expert mind had a sizable lecture planned, but my beginner's mind said, "Let's just see what arises." A lively discussion resulted, one more valuable than the planned lecture. Beginner's mind works again.

Here are the characteristics of beginner's mind.
1. It is not already made up.
2. It is not compelled to know something ahead of time.
3. It is open to possibility.
4. It is empty of preconceived notions.
5. It is ready to see what arises.
6. It is curious.
7. It is present to the experience at hand.

As I drove home that day, I thought more about beginner's mind in relation to the quilt I just finished. I realized that beginner's mind comes much more naturally to me as a quilter than as a teacher. I suppose the difference has a lot to do with the fact that I've been teaching for 30 years and quilting for less than 2. But the point is well taken: the longer you've been doing something the more essential beginner's mind becomes.

Beginner's mind contributes to mental health. Many of the emotional problems people have are obsessions and ruminations that they gnaw at like a dog with a bone. Somehow they believe that more gnawing will bring the resolution they seek. Actually, what will bring relief is clearing your mind so that you have a chance to look at that bone in a new way.

So as I drew closer to home I came to the conclusion that beginner's mind needs to be part of my daily practice, not just one day's meditation. Good thing, too, because what greeted me upon arrival was a leaking roof and a broken toilet. (I have no choice but to be present to the experience at hand, but I'm not sure I want to see what arises.)

Oh well. I'll let you know what happens on the home repair front. Meanwhile, here's my latest quilt. As I reflect on its construction, I recall that all 7 characteristics informed its creation. That's why I'm calling it, "Beginner's Mind."




copyright starfishdoc 2008

Seeking the Good, the Real, the True

I just Googled "under the weather" - for two reasons. First, because I've been sick all week (sorry I haven't written). Second, if I use a phrase, I want to speak with authority about its origins and uses.

Google returned a variety of sites claiming etymological expertise. Most say that "under the weather" is a nautical term describing how a sick sailor was kept below deck, away from (but literally "under") the weather. Sorry, but I can tell you this from experience: below deck on a boat is the very last place you want to be when you're sick!

So it got me to doubting the reliability of the sites. Lucky for me, D is an expert in sailor history. If the phrase is a nautical one, he will know it. What's more, he will go to his substantial library about sailoring, and hand me a primary source to prove it. (Ah yes, going to the source. Another lost art.)

Too sick to work, but well enough to surf, I thought I'd use this down time to do some research on blog-to-book publishing. I was quickly overwhelmed by the websites promising instant fame and fortune to any dumb ass who thinks she can write.

So I emailed KC. Because she's in the book biz, I knew she'd lead me to sources of reliable information on the Net. One of her recommendations was a blog dedicated to exposing publishing scams and helping would-be authors navigate the mine fields. Pay dirt.

In the absence of expert guidance, the Internet is flat, no one set of information appearing more valuable than another. KC's insider knowledge helped me to distinguish The Truly Valuable from The Totally Useless.

Readers, please tell me about your experiences when searching for experts and expertise. What methods do you use to separate wheat from chaff? How do you know valuable service when you see it? How do you evaluate web information?

I'm asking this because I'm wondering if, like the blog exposing scammers in the publishing industry, I should be offering you my take on some of the dime-a-dozen sites that claim to offer therapy/counseling/coaching, along with some tips about what to avoid. Your opinion?

While you're thinking, let me go ahead with my first tip.

Be wary of therapists/counselors/ coaches (hereafter known as tcc's) with too many letters after their names. People with the hard-earned credentials like PhD and MD seldom add strings of additional initials with commas in between. A long string indicates padding: trying to look impressive when there's little of substance there.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

Blessings Come When You're Not Looking

I've been braiding rugs for our log home ever since meeting my braiding teacher at the 2005 Common Ground Fair. (Yes, that was the same day I took the mushroom class that turned me into a forager.)

This picture is a sample of my work. Like two lovers, rugs and quilts compete for my creative time and attention.

One morning last December, I was surfing cyberspace looking for rug wool. Wool has been replaced by synthetics in recent decades making it more expensive and increasingly difficult to find.

This particular day, I stumbled upon a Yahoo group for rug braiders. (Who knew?) A new post had just come in. It was from a widower whose wife had been a rug braider. He was looking for a local braider to give his wife's stash of wool to. (I know, don't end with a preposition.)

The operative word here is "give." With wool increasing scarce, "give" is not a word commonly associated with it. And seeing as how he lives in the Midwest, I did not even faintly resemble "local." So I wrote and offered to buy his wife's stash as well as pay for postage.

A deluge of Yahoo responses followed from other wool-starved braiders. I suspect he was overwhelmed by the numbers, since he posted a message to all saying he'd think about our letters and get back to a lucky recipient. (Sounds like the dating game, doesn't it?) Ever the loser in any game of chance, I forgot all about it.

Then in March an email arrived. The name of the sender did not ring a bell, but as I read the message I recalled the widower with the stash. He made a proposition (not that kind). He asked if I would finish a rug his wife had not completed in exchange for a box of her wool. He further offered to send the remainder of her stash once the rug was returned to him. I accepted.

A week or so later, a very large box arrived, containing beautiful wool in assorted colors, and Meg's (not her real name) little rug, with one unattached round of braid. That weekend, during a Nor'easter, I sat and butted that final round onto Meg's little masterpiece. Anyone who has ever finished or repaired the handiwork of someone whose creation has outlived them, knows what a spiritual experience this can be. Here's a picture of Meg's rug completed.

I returned the rug to the sender and as promised, two more cartons of wool arrived in a couple of weeks. What had I done to deserve such riches? How does someone take such a leap of faith to send a precious artifact and valuable goods across miles to a perfect stranger? And why did he choose me from all the respondents?

He told me he visited my website where he read my statement about placing a high value on creativity as a source of mental health. That made the difference.

So what's the point of this story? First, isn't it amazing that people interested in one of the earliest American crafts are using such seemingly contrary modern technology to find one another? And isn't it fascinating that you can put out some aspect of yourself not knowing how or when someone else will resonate with it?

So, maybe the lesson here is: allow yourself to be known to others. Let them know how you think and what you feel, and most importantly what you believe in. They will do the rest.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007