Delight In The Question

Posted on March 2, 2015 by davidrobinsoncreative
a new canvas, stretched and ready for gesso.

a new canvas, stretched and ready for gesso.

So what is next?

There is a sweet void that follows in the wake of every project and this particular void is vaster than most (don’t you love the phrase, “particular void?”). This project, The Lost Boy, was and continues to be more layered than any other. It pulls on emotional and spiritual roots that have not been available in other performances and so the post-show disorientation is mighty.

I’ve come to appreciate my time in the void. It is the time of reflection. It is the time of rest. It is the time of long walks. It is the time of questions finally answered that invite bigger questions. I’ve learned that disorientation is necessary for reorientation and reorientation never comes as an answer but always comes in the form of a question: so, what’s next?

Yesterday I tacked a large canvas to the wall. It is now covered with layers of Gesso and is ready for paint. I delight in this phase of preparation. It is akin to the anticipation of meeting with an old friend; the conversation will be rich and far reaching. I also bought a new sketchbook and have set myself the task of filling it within the month. Many years ago, while sitting in another void, I was staying with my pals Duncan and Liz while directing a play. Liz, familiar with voids, insisted that, after rehearsals, I do a hundred paintings before I sleep. Each night, tired from a long day of rehearsal, Liz sat with me as I did one hundred paintings, quick gestures with brush and ink, paper fluttering to the floor. We laughed and I felt renewed. After ten paintings en route to a hundred, the notion of judgment and too-much-thinking goes out the window. The joy of the action takes precedence over the illusion of a finished product.

I’ve written often of the lessons Saul-the-tai-chi master taught me. Focus on the field of possibility and not on the opponent. In other words, offer no resistance to those things that appear as obstacles. Sit with gratitude in the void. Paint a hundred paintings before you sleep. Delight in the question.

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Dance With Sherry

Posted on November 18, 2014 by davidrobinsoncreative
A painting from the archives. I call it 'Revelry!'

A painting from the archives. I call it ‘Revelry!’

Sherry was killed in a car wreck many years ago. It was ironic. She had a severe food allergy and was pronounced dead more times than she could count. Every time she went out to eat she rolled the dice. And, because she had been back and forth over that dark line so many times, she never took a day (or a meal) for granted. Death walked with her so she was awash in the appreciation of life. Sherry never missed an opportunity to laugh or dance or shock people. She was a one-person party and her enthusiasm was infectious.

She was a true friend and a colleague and took the plunge with me when I wanted to start a communications academy (teaching core curriculum through experiential processes; with students we made movies, plays, performance art pieces, poetry slams and ran businesses. It was not only a blast but hugely successful. We created things as opposed to studied things. The only trouble I ever had was getting the students to go home). Initially, the academy was a risk but she was quick to throw herself into the chaos and brought her friend Linda kicking and screaming with her. Both were extraordinary English teachers looking for a better way to teach. We were like adventurers in the wilds of education, blowing up old models and exploring new territory. It would be impossible to do today; innovators are nailed to the floor by the standardized master-tests that they must serve.

The last time I saw her she said, “This is the last time you’ll ever see me!” She had a Cheshire grin and I protested, “Why? Are you planning on avoiding me!” She leaned in so no one else might hear and said, “I doubt I’ll be alive when you come back.” I told her not to be stupid but, as usual, she was right. She also asked me to not come back for her funeral. “Let this be our goodbye,” she said.

Kerri and I have been cleaning out the house, purging years and years of boxes, clothes, and…stuff. We are making space for new things. Each load that goes out the door is matched by an opportunity or insight that flows in. Not only are we cleaning out but we are reaching back in time and visiting old friends and extraordinary moments. More than once we’ve sat to share photographs or letters, “This is what I used to look like,” or, “Remember I told you about my friend…., this is us 20 years ago.” For some reason, Sherry has been with me today. I have no photos of her and no letters but I have terrific memories. I’ve been meditating on joy all day and she was the embodiment of joy. She was the queen of mischief and bold leaps of faith. “Life is never sure!” she’d giggle. “You only have today so dance it or get off the floor!” she’d shout, punching me, her Cheshire grin breaking across her face before erupting in gales of laughter.

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Feel The Day

Posted on October 27, 2014 by davidrobinsoncreative
My favorite face of exuberance.

My favorite face of exuberance.

And so, the sun! These crisp, bright fall days bring pause. They make us slow down and pay attention to the small things, the sensual things: the smell of coffee, the sweet taste of butter on warm toast, the gentle music of the leaves, the blue sky vibrant through the luminous yellow leaves.

These are the days of easy appreciation; gratitude stands close-by. With senses heightened and deep inner quiet rising to the surface comes the simple acknowledgment that this day will never come again. It is precious, like all days, but on these days-of-the-senses, when reason, explaining, and justification take a break, the obvious becomes apparent. Every moment of life is this rich, precious. Wisdom comes through the senses, when tight reason takes a break. This life is passing. This life is bigger than any one of us. It is as vast as a human heart.

Turning my face to the autumn sun, I close my eyes and with great relish listen to the exuberant life celebration of Tripper Dog-Dog-Dog, barking because he can, digging holes to bury treasure, racing around the yard for no other reason than it feels really good.

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Feel The Ripple

Posted on August 12, 2014 by davidrobinsoncreative
Baby Cat settles in

Baby Cat settles in

“The fabric of creation ripples when people love each other,” the leader prayed. I opened my ipad to capture the phrase. I liked the image of creation as a dynamic living fabric, a weave responsive to the heart.

Yesterday, Jim said with gratitude and love in his eyes, “Life can change in an instant.” His wife was in a brutal head-on collision a few days ago. She survived and will eventually recover. “The crash was 900 feet from our driveway,” he said, adding, “You never know.”

You never know.

Tripper Dog-Dog-Dog jumped onto the bed. He brought his bone and settled at our feet. We were having the first cup of coffee of the day and talking about things to come. Baby Cat leaped up to the window sill and settled in.

Creation ripples.

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Eve, by David Robinson

Eve, by David Robinson

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Hold It In Your Hands

Posted on July 28, 2014 by davidrobinsoncreative

photoBob could fix anything from airplanes to autos to plumbing. He had the accumulated tools of a man whose life was about keeping things well tuned. So, when his wife Ruby asked me to go into the garage and choose some tools to take home with me, I had to work hard not to weep. “Bob would have wanted you to have them,” she said.

Many years ago when my grandpa Robinson passed, after his funeral, we gathered at his home for what amounted to a love-fest. “Grandpa would have wanted you to have this,” his sons and grandchildren said as they gifted each other with grandpa’s worldly possessions. The decisions were made according to history and need. “He knew you loved this and would want it to go to you.” My dad looked at me and asked me to choose something. The only thing I wanted was an old nutcracker. It was falling apart because he used it so often. He’d held it in his hand. It was ordinary and useful and in one of the few precious times I sat with him, we cracked nuts, laughed, and talked about nothing important. I wanted something he touched. Sometimes when I need some simple wisdom or some laughter in a dark time, I hold the nutcracker and wonder what he would tell me. It never fails. I always hear a whisper of advice or something that makes me smile.

Going through the garage I chose tools that Bob used often. I wanted the tools that were worn and fit his hand.

I am, for the first time in my life, responsible for the upkeep of a home, my home. I’m new to repairing faucets and fixing gutters. It is my hope that when I have no idea how to fix something, I can choose a tool that Bob held, hold it in my hand, and ask Bob what I should do. It’s my bet that without fail, I’ll hear his saucy whisper of guidance. More than likely I’ll hear a joke (off-color, as my mother might say) and the laugh that made his shoulders rise. He’ll take the toothpick out of his mouth before saying something like, “Ah hell, just start. You got the right tool what else do you need?”

 

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Touch The Eternal

Posted on February 13, 2013 by davidrobinsoncreative

706. 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 is my last evening in Anacortes and I sit with the lights off watching the grey northwest sky fade into night. The trees lose their dimension and move into silhouette. There is a slight breeze and the silhouettes sway. The colors are cold and my little oasis is warm. I do not want to move from this spot.

Jim Edmondson told me that people go to the ocean to touch the eternal: the waves have been rolling into the shore for millennia and will do so long beyond our short lives. I have this small moment, this blink of an eye and tonight I know I have come to this guesthouse, home of my dear Horatio and Teru so that I might touch the eternal, too. The sun drops in the sky every night and has done so for millennia and will do so long after I am gone. Tonight, on the eve of my next wandering, I watch and know. I touch it and recognize that we are all wanderers here for a moment. My heart breaks and becomes whole in the same moment with the beauty of this sunset and the realization of what I touch.

In a moment it will be full dark and I will stand and leave my oasis. I will walk across the lot to the big house where Horatio is making dinner. We will laugh and talk about art and learn about the man Teru interviewed this afternoon; she writes personal histories. She captures stories for families before the storyteller is lost, before the story fades into silhouette, sways and is gone. Her work is sacred though I think she does not know it.

Yesterday Megan-The-Brilliant sent me a short video that she shot one night a few weeks ago. It is of Lexi and me coloring with crayons between our toes. We called it foot coloring and cheered when we drew with our toes on the page. “We did it!” we cheered, arms waving, hooting in triumph as Lexi jumped onto the paper saying, “I have to dance on this paper!” Small treasures. Simple moments. Touching the eternal and so very grateful for this blink of an eye.

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Stand In Happiness

Posted on December 24, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

655. 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 drive to Capitol Hill early every Saturday morning to take Tai-Chi class. I go early to get some coffee and a scone and have started a special ritual of sending photos of my incredible morning bounty to torture Megan-the-brilliant who responds in kind, sending me photos of her bagel and jet fuel coffee from The Blue Moon café. Soon I plan on recording my scone enjoyment moans and sending the sound effects along with the photos. Torture is torture and I can’t wait to see how Megan-the-brilliant responds; she has a competitive nature and will one-up me somehow. Video maybe, or her food enjoyment sounds will come with a Hollywood soundtrack. She’s young and has the technological advantage in our torture game.

Although there are several coffee houses within walking distance of my class I now go almost exclusively to the Starbucks – not because the coffee is better or because the scone is world class, I go there because of the way I’m greeted by my barista. As I come through the door he shouts, “Hey! You’re back!” He’s often singing a song or bantering with his co-workers. His joy and enthusiasm is infectious. And, although I am only there one early morning a week, he no longer asks what I want; my coffee and scone just show up. We laugh at something, I pay and move on, and then he brightens the day of the next person in line. He has unwittingly made my Saturday morning ritual, previously a time of quiet reflection, a solitary act, into a homecoming. A simple thing, a greeting, a decision to stand in happiness, has deeply impacted my life to the point that I build my week around walking through a door into a welcome that warms me.

It is a season of giving (and, really, why do we need to define a season when this life could be a generosity fest) and when I think of all the amazing people in my life, the people who nourish and enrich me, my mind does not go to the big events, it goes to a video chat, the pizza that showed up at my door, a barista, a note from a top secret person, a tai chi teacher who has no idea of the impact his quirky sense of humor has on my life. My barista hasn’t a clue that he is my barista and has no idea that he enriches my life. My top secret person knows but has no idea of the profound impact she’s having on my life. At the center of each of them is a pattern, a ritual of generosity, an intentional sharing of heart that these amazing people bring to each day of their lives. From their point of view, their generosity is ordinary; they do not see it as special. They greet. They act. They support. Today, I count myself the most fortunate man on the planet to walk in their circles.

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Truly Powerful People (436)

Posted on May 19, 2012 by davidrobinsoncreative

436.
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 asked Alan to apply his wise-eyes to my workbook for The Ground Truth as I intend to publish it in book form before too long. He is a gifted author and helps me clarify my thoughts when they veer off into space. In the final pages of the book I used one of my early posts about Service and it disturbed him. In the post I wrote that there is a common step that people take when they move into power: they put themselves higher on the priority list. In fact, no one is higher. Alan gently tugged my sleeve and said, “Say more about this. I know what you mean and this is not exactly what you mean. What do you mean exactly?”

I live life at 30,000 feet. I see big pictures and connections. Details are not my thing. Details are like a cornfield that I step into and disappear; as Ana-the-wise might say, details are what I am here to learn. Here is my revision:

There is a common and necessary step when someone moves into their power: They cease serving the needs of others at the expense of their happiness. They step into their center and begin operating from a different kind of priority list: they cease seeking their fulfillment from others and begin living from their fulfillment. Fulfillment is in the offer, not in the reception of the offer. It is a necessary trick of language to make fulfillment a verb, an ongoing action of intention. In a sense, people moving into power honor their needs as a priority and as the means of truly serving others.

This does not mean they stop serving others! In fact, it means that they are capable for the first time in their lives of truly serving others. It is an equation of sorts: when you stop making other people your priority you stop seeking your happiness from their reactions and responses. Your investment shifts. You give for the sake of giving, because it is what you decide to do and not what you need to do to feel useful or valid or worthwhile; your worth is not located in the responses of others. Your worth is no longer at question so you do not need to seek it in the eyes of others.

It is the distinction between service and enabling. It is the step that makes someone truly powerful because they exit the power games. They no longer need to play – to diminish others, triumph over, defeat, negate, or control. They offer their best because it is their best offer. The rest is out of their control and none of their concern.

The devil is in the details and the magic, too. You can’t imagine how grateful I am for all the wise-eyes that surround me. You know who you are.

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