Gratitude | The Direction of Intention

Honor The Crow

Posted on September 7, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

In my studio are two wood, wire, paper and found-object sculptures of crows I made a few years ago. I made them at the time that crows were plaguing me. For a few years crows were a potent and ever present force in my days, dive bombing me when I least expected it. Once, a murder of crows circled my studio for hours. There were two fledglings in the yard outside of the studio door and I suppose I was perceived as a threat. I perceived the crows as a threat.

I’d like to think that I was in my personal version of an Alfred Hitchcock movie – and sometimes it felt that way – but in truth I think the crows did me a favor. They woke me up. If it is possible for a subconscious to manifest itself then my subconscious came at me in the form of crows. It began one day on Alki beach when a crow went berserk on me and would not let me go home. I’m sure I was the talk of the sidewalk as I fled to the beach and found a stick so that I might defend myself. My animal instinct kicked in and I sought open ground and a weapon to use for a fair fight (crows have beaks). The crow left me alone if I walked away from my home but unleashed a full aerial assault if I tried to walk in the direction of home. Finally, I fled to a coffeehouse and hid until the crow flew away (the time it takes to drink two Americanos and eat a chocolate chip cookie).

Crows have facial recognition so I told myself that someone who looked like me had treated the crows poorly. More than once they picked me out of a crowd and hit me from behind. Crows are masters at surprise attacks. But deep down I knew differently. They weren’t attacking me. It wasn’t malice. It was a wake up call. They were helping me.

As is my custom, I searched the symbolism of Crow and this is what I found: “Crow is the guardian of ceremonial magic and healing. In any healing circle, Crow is present. Crow guides the magic of healing and the change in consciousness that will bring about a new reality and dispel “dis-ease” or illness…. Do not try to figure crow out. Crow represents the power of the unknown at work, and something special is about to happen.”

Something special did happen. Something special continues to happen.

For some reason today, I have been hyper aware of my crow sculptures. I’ve found myself staring at them and remembering the original impulse to make them. I wanted to exorcise the aggression, rid myself of their attacks. Now I see them differently. Given the vast changes in my life this year I see them as harbingers of change. From this vantage point I can see how the unknown was at work and, I believe, continues to work. This year I’ve not had a single crow incident.

I laughed out loud this morning when I realized that every shirt I own is black. I’ve internalized my crow medicine. The crows are to me as bees are to Beowulf. What was once my nemesis may someday become my greatest ally. I hope so. That would mark the closing of a circle and the beginning of a new adventure and I’ll be able to bring my crow medicine with me into the next unknown.

(Post 894. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.)

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See Her Hands

Posted on August 31, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

889. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Alan issued me a challenge today. He asked me, for a few weeks, to write about something other than the events of my day. Perhaps to write about ideas or dreams or imaginings or something that happened in the past. His challenge to me is about moving beyond the role of witness – a role I play well – and to actually inhabit the moments of my life. He asked me to intentionally be a participant more than an observer. It’s a great idea and a worthy challenge. And, I will start tomorrow. Today I have to write about Kerri’s hands.

Kerri is a musician, a composer with many albums to her credit. When she plays the piano she drops into a deep root, she grounds into her music, and a river of sound flows from her. Life flows through her. So much life flows through her that she cannot sit at the piano. She stands and life flows through her hands as sound and vibration and heart. It is her music.

The first time I met her I asked her to play something for me. I stood at the side of the piano and I watched her reach into the earth. I watched life pour through her hands. They knew just what to do. When she grounded and gave herself over to the music, her hands merged with the keys and I wasn’t sure if the hands were playing the keys or the keys were moving her fingers.

This morning while I was talking with Alan she began to play a new composition. I left the call and stood by the piano. The lid to the piano was open so I could see her hands and the hammers touch the strings as she touched the keys. I know this sounds obvious but the piano is an extension of her hands. The piano is a channel for her soul.

Later we stood on the front stoop as a storm blew through. The thunder rolled and rolled without ceasing. It was magic, something I’ve never heard before. The same power I saw in her hands I also saw in voice of the sky. I took her hand and felt the life, the thunder and the power. I felt the music. It was breathtaking.

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Play The Ukulele

Posted on August 30, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

888. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Last night I was at Ukulele practice in a garden on the shores of Lake Michigan. I am a rank beginner and learning to play the Ukulele with 47 other people. We were laughing our way through Over The Rainbow. I was playing air Ukulele pretending that I was expert at my chord progressions, when a sphinx butterfly circled us, flew into the garden right next to me, and began drinking from the flowers. It was close enough to touch. I’d never seen anything like it before. I was so captivated by the butterfly that I forgot to pretend that I was strumming.

A sphinx butterfly looks like an exotic hummingbird. It is shaped like a hummingbird, its wings beat like a hummingbird, it hovers like a hummingbird, and yet it is not a hummingbird. My section of the ukulele band completely dropped their chord progressions and joined me in gaping at the butterfly. We entered an intense debate about whether it was a hummingbird or indeed a sphinx butterfly. The people seated to the left of the garden voted for hummingbird. Those of us on the right were solidly in the butterfly camp. I had no idea so I went with those seated around me. Each camp had solid justifications and good reasons for their point of view. The butterfly paid us no attention. It was not concerned about our debate or our need to identify its species. It continued feeding regardless of the label we attached to it.

I can’t help it. In moments like this I step into the role of witness. I watched people enrapt by a butterfly. I watched their loving debate, their laughter, their awe. I watched this group of amazing people hold their treasured ukuleles of many colors – green, purple, midnight blue, orange, red, pink and sky blue, white and black – watching a butterfly of many colors – pink, orange, purple, salmon, white, blue and black – and I was in awe of their awe. They did not see how beautiful they were as they admired the beauty of the butterfly.

This is the role of the human being isn’t it? To see the beauty of the world. To appreciate and give a name to the awesome and unimaginable. To engage with the beauty and then to join in a simple way with the creation of beauty: this group who gathers each Wednesday night to play their ukulele’s together and laugh and drink wine and gape in utter amazement at a butterfly.

Filed under: Art, Awakening, Gratitude, Perspective, Seeing, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: awe, beauty, witness | Leave a comment »

Receive The Message

Posted on August 1, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

862. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Images from this magic day:

The space needle disappeared into the fog. A jogger saw it and jogged in place for a full minute before pointing at the shrouded space needle and mouthed, “Holy Cow.” He touched his heart and spun around and then jogged on.

A young man stood very still until the pigeons gathered around him. And then he slowly started to spin and the pigeons lifted off the ground, swirling around him. He laughed a belly laugh and then he stood very still until the pigeons again gathered around him.

A child from another life touched my heart. She had my eyes and hair that she refused to comb.

Skip glanced at his phone. His face, for a moment, looked as if he’d seen a ghost. It wasn’t possible but his infant granddaughter had sent him a message. He caught the mischief and burst into laughter.

I took a walk as the sun was setting and the night grew still as the sky melded pink into purple. Gratitude like a rushing river gushed from me and overran my banks.

She asked me the best question I’ve ever been asked: “What keeps you from receiving this with joy?”

The biggest shooting star, the kind that you can actually see the flames right before it disappears, arced across the night sky at just the right moment. I received the message.

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Listen To The Dragonfly

Posted on July 29, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

859. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

This is a note to the blue dragonfly that marked the path today. I am given to seeing metaphor and symbol in almost everything. Serendipity and synchronicity hold hands everyday in my life. Karma meets coincidence. All year I’ve told people, “There have been helping hands all along this path.” There have been harbingers and guardians. To me, a few of my friends look a lot like angels.

Dragonflies have been present throughout this time of wandering, too. One year ago I came to a leaping point in my life that was marked by a dragonfly. It was singly dedicated to staying by my side. I have come to think of that particular dragonfly as a threshold guardian. I was ready for the passage so it accompanied me as I stepped through the water (the deep memory) and into unknown lands. I literally passed through a watercourse with the dragonfly as my constant companion. He left when I made it to the far shore and leapt.

A week ago, I was visited by an orange and crimson dragonfly. I’d just emerged from the faery ring when it came calling. This was a visitor of another sort. It felt like reassurance. If it could have spoken it might have said, “Did you feel that? The faery ring signals a change. The cycle is shifting with this new moon: the centrifugal will become centripetal. The hard growth is nearly done. The fruit of your labor will ripen now. All is spiraling back to the center.” This dragonfly was a harbinger of the return. “You are almost home,” it whispered with its wings.

Today the dragonfly was blue. This, I believe, was Hermes. He is the messenger of the gods, walking freely between the world of mortals and the divine. He is also the protector of travelers and I think he came today to give comfort, protection and to deliver a message. The message read something like this: despite what you think, you do not walk this path alone. I am with you.

And so to the blue dragonfly, thank you. The message was clear. Keep stepping into the unknown. I know that there is no other direction. I know that my intellect and reason are of no use on this path. There is no sense to be made. Intuition is all.

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Embrace Your Discipline

Posted on July 28, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

858. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

It occurs to me that during this phase of my life I am learning discipline. Not that I’ve ever been undisciplined but a short gander at my current daily activity looks like a masters class in self-direction. I laughed out loud when a few minutes ago I looked up “discipline” in the thesaurus and the word “punishment” topped the list. The other choices are regulation, self-control, and subject (as in field or specialty). I generally resist rules, am not in to punishment, and am a generalist to such a degree that I have no field or specialty. So, discipline must be necessary to help me come to some semblance of balance before I’m too old to balance. All will be lost the day I wear pants with elastic waistbands and Velcro shoes but until then some balance may be possible.

Two years ago I decided to write posts every day. I decided to take on a daily writing commitment because the need for fodder opened my eyes. I had to pay attention to all the colors of life swirling around me if I was going to have something to write about. Little gestures of kindness became visible. The world is much more vibrant than I understood before I began paying attention. I’ve always been a painter so I’ve practiced “seeing” all of my life but a new kind of sight opened when I decided to write. Also, I’ve never considered myself a writer so my sub-intention for writing each day was to learn to write. Double discipline: open my eyes to see and become a better writer.

Two months ago I committed to publishing a daily cartoon strip for an audience entrepreneurs. Although the strip is crude (by design), each panel takes a few hours to complete and in just a few months I’ve drawn over 120 panels. Today, like most days, I spent the afternoon drawing and inking cartoons. I’m trying to get two months ahead because the strip publishes everyday, seven days a week. It is not lost on me that since beginning the cartoon I find that I am listening with a new set of ears. I’m becoming a world-class eavesdropper. Everything is fair game for cartoon material and everything – especially the most serious conversations – sound like a cartoon. People have no idea that they are riotously funny. In cartooning I’ve already learned that few things in this life warrant the weight that we give to it. Our addiction to drama and blaming is a comedy gold mine. I am my own best source for a good yuck. The discipline is to listen and laugh.

Walking home from tai chi this morning made me realize that I also have a daily tai chi practice. I began my study almost 2 years ago and I love it. I start each day with my practice and I am changing in some fundamental ways because of it. The discipline is to root over what Saul calls “the bubbling spring.” Connect to the chi and empty of all forms of pushing. The discipline is to empty and listen.

Listen. Empty. Laugh. See. Balance. Punishment is nowhere in sight. Alan says that the root word of discipline is disciple –and today I take great delight in my chosen path of discipleship.

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Be Very Human

Posted on July 8, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

839. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

Being human is messy. We are a mass of contradictions. We say one thing and mean another. We hold others to standards that we do not ourselves hold. We change our minds. We often hear but rarely listen. We misunderstand, miscommunicate, mistake, and simply miss. We judge and run and hide and then pretend that we have courage and conviction. Sometimes we do. Mostly we have courage when we don’t try to have it; courage usually feels like terror. Conviction shows up when there is a distinct absence of dogma.

And we learn. We try again. And again. We gaze at the next hill and wonder what is beyond it. We get back up after being knocked to the ground. We are eternally hopeful even if we do not see it. We reach. We take another step. We desire to get better, be better. We want to know. We read self help books and aspire to create a better world. We want fulfillment and peace.

Recently I watched an irate woman frost a birthday cake. I thought the cake looked fine but she was fuming with herself, thinking she should have done better. When I asked why she was so upset she cried, “Because it matters!” It is the little things that matter. It is the small stuff that rings our humanity.

Another day and I wade through the muck. In the mire I had a conversation that upset me. She saw me retreat and said, “Come back out again.”

I said, “No!” and pouted like a five year old refusing to eat broccoli. I shook my head to emphasize my resolve.

She said, “Please. Please come out.” I looked up and realized that she was not trying to hurt me and that I was being silly. I stepped out from behind my steely resolve. No one wants to be in a shell. We reach toward each other even when it looks like refusal.

We humans are optimistic. We tip toward love even in the midst of the murkiest moments. Lurking beneath the phrase, “I don’t know how I am going to get through it,” is the faith that transformation is not only possible but it is imminent. We get through it every time and we never know how. We understand how only after we have done it. The stuff of life is in forging the path through it. And then we are changed; we are better for the slog.

“Step into the love. Move toward it.” I said. She was hurting. When she scowled I added, “It is all that I know how to do.”

She said, “That sounds like a phrase from Saint Michael! It’s not very human.”

In fact, it is the very thing that makes us human. To step the other way is a path to nowhere. And I know in her despair that she said one thing and meant another. We are both humans. We are messy. Transformation is imminent.

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Kiss The Cosmos

Posted on June 26, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

829. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

I just wrote the word “cosmos” because I wanted to use it in a cartoon and needed to check the thesaurus for alternative meanings. It turns out the cosmos is pretty much everything. For instance, as I walked across town this morning I heard someone declare, “It’s always a good time for a cookie!” Cookie. Time. Always. Good. A perfect expression of the cosmos in contemporary small talk!

Later in the afternoon as I passed the bus tunnel I was approached by two older men from somewhere in the world that I do no know. They were Sikh and trying to find bus number 150 to Renton. It took us a while to establish that it was a bus that they were seeking. I took them down into the bus tunnel and that was a great revelation to the two men. They were seeking the bus on the street! It never occurred to them that buses run under the street in tunnels. They looked with wide eyes at the tunnel traffic and were at first dubious to get on a bus in a tunnel. In a communication that was more dance than word I helped them see that the tunnel was temporary. We found the 150 bus and before boarding they blessed me. I was an angel sent to them by god. A perfect expression of the cosmos in contemporary urban kindness.

Later Alan called. He’d sent emails that never showed up in my inbox. The emails are lost in space (the cosmos). Mostly, he could feel that I needed a connection so he reached out to find me. I told him that I had become a ghost and was delighted that he found me. We talked for ten minutes or so and our conversation brought me closer to substance. Great friendship is magic that way – it pulls us from the insubstantial ethers and gives us form, shape, and identity. When we ended our call I was more human than ghost. The cosmos is energy that takes many forms and a simple phone call is, too, a perfect expression of the cosmos.

The sun was out today so on my way back to the studio after talking with Alan I found a warm brick wall in the sun, leaned against it, closed my eyes and drank in the heat. I had not a single thought in my head, just immense appreciation for the light that seeped into my body and warmed me to the core. You might say that I was touched by the sun and isn’t that a perfect expression of the cosmos. Everything is everything all at the same time – it only seems to be separate.

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Want The Sunrise

Posted on June 23, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

826. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

This morning I watched the sun rise from the top deck of the ferry. It was a clear calm summer morning, warm even before the sun peaked over the mountains. I was alone on the deck to witness the dawn and wondered why the other passengers weren’t up there with me.

The ferry was packed which was unusual for an early Saturday morning but there was a marathon in the city and most of my fellow commuters were runners and their families. As I boarded I passed groups stretching, others were applying icy hot patches, most were checking their gear and making sure they had what they needed for the run. They were too busy preparing to pay attention to the sun. The main deck was frenetic with carbo-loading and pre-run anticipation!

As chaotic as it was below, the upper deck was equally as quiet. The sky was electric with velvet blues and hot oranges morphing to pink and purple as the sun rolled into view. It made me quiet inside. There was nothing more important to me in that moment than being present for the start of another day. I wanted to know what it is to sing the sun up, to welcome it back, to live within the consciousness that pays attention. It was utterly magical to be on the water, standing at the bow of the ferry, crossing the Sound, the summer morning air rushing through me as the heat of the morning sun reached and washed over me. I drank deeply and knew that this morning would be one of the moments I would remember on that future day when my life flashed before my eyes.

I realized as I left the ferry amidst a throng of runners that I am running a different kind of race. Many years ago I was a runner. I ran to feel alive. I ran to find my limits. I ran to stay ahead of the pain. I ran as a meditation. Now, I am alive and my life is a meditation. I no longer need to find my limits because I’m fairly certain I create them. With great intention and even greater dedication I walk slowly so I can see. I have raced through too much of my life trying to get to starting lines and finish lines. I no longer care about starts or finishes, I want to be in it and not merely move through it. I want the sunrise, the feel of the breeze off the water and the new sun on my face.

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Lean And Rest

Posted on June 17, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

820. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

[continued from 811, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19]

Bali Journal Excerpt #10
At lunch, Rai told me that he also had no religion and then he corrected himself. “My religion is goodness,” he said. “Dharma,” he added. “In my religion you only need do your action and god will determine the result.”

In Bali, it is common to see a woman making an offering in the middle of a busy intersection, motorbikes flying by her. Her offering is normal to them. Each morning a new flower appears in my room. I never see who places it there. In a crowded temple, a man I have never before seen leans on me to rest. It has been a long night and he is very tired. I am filled with warm gratitude for what he teaches me.

This is the final excerpt from the journals. It is the one that touched me the most almost 13 years after writing the words. I realized that I am still filled with warm gratitude. I realized that my religion to be goodness. I am learning to do my action and let go of trying to determine the result. This, especially, has been my lesson during this long winter of wandering.

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