I was in my second full year of unemployment following the 2008 financial debacle and living with my parents while my Dad was dying of cancer. It was the third week of January in MN — very cold… I was training for a marathon to blow off steam and give myself something constructive to do. My threshold is -20F and housebound and going batshit crazy.
One morning while I was surfing the web, my Dad came downstairs and started screwing with me like he did when I was a kid. I had serious words with him and helped him back up the stairs. I got back online and I was fuming.
I took a deep breath and a song on my playlist started - “On Some Distant Shore” and there was a screen saver photo of a volcanic beach, waves crashing and the glow of the late afternoon sun. I closed my eyes and meditated on the scene and that helped. When the song ended the next song was “Tahitian Skies” by Chet Atkins and Mark Knoppfler. I kept my eyes closed and went off to Tahiti.
When I opened my eyes the thought that came to me is that the sky is always blue even on the stormiest days. If that’s a quote from someone famous I’d never heard it. What Marcus Aurelius is very true. What we think about really does effect life in the moment. The difficulty is what to do when one has to think/remember bad things...
One thing I've committed to this year is to give others the purity of my attention. I remember in the 70's when we used to get our cherry icees in plastic cups featuring Endangered Species: Bald Eagles, Polar Bears, Whale Sharks. I feel like so much of our humanity has become an endangered species. Attention tops the list. Let's put it on a cup.
I've been thinking about this post, and the last one. Do I cherish my life and what color is my soul, anyway? Since I lost my beloved in October, my soul has been that lead gray color of the sky when the rain is so heavy that the streets are in flood and I am afraid to go out in fear that my car will careen into something or, horror, someone. But here is the best I can do right now: I cherish my friends; I cherish the thought that a friend's husband came by and "made" me come to their New Year's Eve celebration, even in my tears; I cherish my friend who dropped over on January 1 with the fixings for eggs Benedict and mimosas, and stayed for hours as we discussed everything important in this world, and got me through a whole day without tears. I cherish the pink and gold sunsets over the Pacific and the little songbird that sang to me this morning, "Get up--come out and play." (And I did.)
Susan, thank you for sharing this and writing some insightful questions for reflection as always. I don’t have the answers yet. 2024 was a difficult year, among other things in a professional transition that I don’t think has gone well. So I’m in that uncertain time moving towards a better future, I hope. Your post was just what I needed to hear right now. I need to find a quieter way to interact with the world, one that better honours my preferences, abilities and strengths. Much easier said than done, alas!
Happy New Year and may 2025 bring everyone some beauty, light and joy even in a difficult world.
Thanks for yet another wonderfully timed post, Susan. Resolutions have always been a bit tricky for me to envision and stick to, especially given how much things can change in a year or even a quarter. I've been reflecting recently on what I want this year to mean for me. Not strictly in the sense of what I "should" do but more in how I can direct my attention toward the things I want to do more often. I have a few ideas bouncing around, but we'll see how they take shape.
I agree that adopting traditional NY resolutions doesn’t quite cut it as providing useful personal pathways forward in a new year. These past three years, I’ve instead chosen a single word to act as a goal, a guide to positivity and growth. A writer friend gave me the idea in one of her columns after I became immersed in grief. I first chose “renewal,” then “evolve,” and just the other day, “feel.” I attribute this last guiding word as appropriate and natural after the intense introspection and learning I’ve been exposed to in your “Quiet Life” community and through your “Candlelight” experiences. I must add to that Maria Popova’s guided intellectual journeys in her Marginalian through commentary on and connections to the thoughts and writings of great thinkers and deep “feelers.” Vinjay Seshadri, a Brooklyn poet, said in an interview on “Loss and Writing as Therapy” that “To give shape, rhythm, architecture to feelings so powerful and inchoate, to memorialize, to make a musical order, gave those feelings a ground on which to stand and acquire meaning. I really understood, maybe for the first time how deep the act of memorialization is. We became human when we started to bury our dead.” Mary Oliver, in “Some Questions You Might Ask,” “Is the soul solid, like iron? Or is it tender and breakable, like the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?” And I don’t know what color my soul is but I’m learning I have one. Thank you for all your help.
Thank you for this post. I love this new to me expression, “experience-dependent-neuroplasticity” and how you are expressing something I couldn’t really explain, and why I do it every year. I love planners and journals. I don’t set resolutions but I do find that setting goals and having a view and focus of the year ahead helps me lean into my light side because I have a very strong negativity bias. The universe of course seems to mock me when I plan, throwing me road blocks with unexpected things like illness. Well, I’ve learned to have plans that are flexible and often change with little notice. Fluid planning with goals to help ground me to remember the beauty and the good in the world. I like to consider myself a senior in training. Goals, smalls steps now for a happy and healthy future me.
I’m in Arizona on vacation. The colors of my soul reflect the surroundings around me. Colors of the southwest: oranges, yellow and brown. The air is still and peaceful. I hear the mocking bird near me as the beautiful orange sun goes down for the day. I feel at peace for now.
Thank you for this beautiful article Susan, what a delightful and encouraging way to start the new year!
This year I am trying to embrace the “hasten slowly” / “festina lente” mindset. Just as one example, I read as much as possible: to be informed, to learn, to escape. But this year I want to try and slow my reading by keeping a commonplace book and a reading journal. Even when I set a goal number of books for a reading challenge, as long as I’m reading I don’t care if I reach that number. But I do want to give myself the time and energy and space to go in deeper. So far this year, so good!
I would like to think my soul is mother-of-pearl (nacre): a creamy base that reflects so many colors in all their iridescence, but only if seen from the right angle. Plus the material is strong and resilient as well as beautiful, which sounds like a better version of myself that I’d like to become, and maybe I am becoming a little more resilient every day. Given time and room to regrow, I don’t see why not! There are dark stormy colored pearls (and mothers of-pearl), and they too are beautiful :-)
I feel my; Soul is a range of blues like the sky and the ocean, shades of hue always changing amongst the waves, the wind there innately navigating through. But nevertheless, true to the hue which lies within there being. For the wind and waves may get rough at times but the oceans amidst the sky will always be blue amongst every changing shade of hue... Love Warrior
This is beautiful, Susan. My soul has waves of color that shift with my moods and with whatever I'm going through at the time. I would say that right now it's shades of deep blue and red. For me, I'm trying to approach all the colors with kindness and compassion, realizing that the darker colors also have their gifts to bring. If I'm sad, I try to befriend the sadness and go into it, asking questions and trying to listen to the answers. And this, for me, is best done in silence. Sometimes among the trees, sometimes in front of my fireplace, sometimes under the covers in my bed. And sometimes even connecting with someone who shows up at exactly the right time, whether in person or with the gift of connecting online with other writers and readers. Thank you, as always, Susan, for the colors that you bring to the world and for the gift of encouraging the quieter expression of all the colors.
Yesterday, I travelled through the Swiss countryside with my wife. We had no agenda and therefore were free to focus our awareness wherever we felt like. The area we went to had seen some snowfall and there was about two inches on the ground. The trees were covered in white as if coated with sugar, and the sky was turquoise. There was peace.
I suddenly saw the fractal nature of nature in the trees and the snow. I realized that if I were to live a Quiet Life, a life of peace, a life of love locally, it could and would have an impact within my sphere of influence, from which it would spread to other spheres. Like fractals, what would be seen locally, had the potential to be seen globally.
My soul was white as the snow, green as the needles of the pine trees and the ivy, brown as the tree structures, and turquoise as the sky. And it felt absolutely right, as it mirrored the world around me.
But then, I realized that it was not that my soul mirrored the external world. As I created the world by directing my attention, it was the external world that mirrored my internal state. My peace shone forth in nature.
Winter is a tough season for me. The suffocating gray skies of northern Illinois, the confining cold winds, and end of college football all make it difficult to have soul nourishing thoughts. It becomes a hunker down and wait mentality. But at my age, hunkering down is a waste of the time that I have left on this earth. So thank you for reminding me that I have some control over my thoughts. I can think of golf, for instance. I can think of the early morning tee time with the awakening birds, the dew on the grass, and the warmth of the morning sun. I can turn on the golf channel for a little eye candy. And then, the skies don’t seem so gray.
Once, I was in the park taking a walk and was mentally completely wrapped up in my to-do list and my worries. Remembering that Eckhart Tolle said something like the quality of our consciousness in the moment shapes our future, I pulled myself back into the here and now -- and right in front of me was a most glorious rose bush in full bloom that I had completely missed. What we pay attention can truly make a huge difference!
I was in my second full year of unemployment following the 2008 financial debacle and living with my parents while my Dad was dying of cancer. It was the third week of January in MN — very cold… I was training for a marathon to blow off steam and give myself something constructive to do. My threshold is -20F and housebound and going batshit crazy.
One morning while I was surfing the web, my Dad came downstairs and started screwing with me like he did when I was a kid. I had serious words with him and helped him back up the stairs. I got back online and I was fuming.
I took a deep breath and a song on my playlist started - “On Some Distant Shore” and there was a screen saver photo of a volcanic beach, waves crashing and the glow of the late afternoon sun. I closed my eyes and meditated on the scene and that helped. When the song ended the next song was “Tahitian Skies” by Chet Atkins and Mark Knoppfler. I kept my eyes closed and went off to Tahiti.
When I opened my eyes the thought that came to me is that the sky is always blue even on the stormiest days. If that’s a quote from someone famous I’d never heard it. What Marcus Aurelius is very true. What we think about really does effect life in the moment. The difficulty is what to do when one has to think/remember bad things...
One thing I've committed to this year is to give others the purity of my attention. I remember in the 70's when we used to get our cherry icees in plastic cups featuring Endangered Species: Bald Eagles, Polar Bears, Whale Sharks. I feel like so much of our humanity has become an endangered species. Attention tops the list. Let's put it on a cup.
What an incredible comment and thought.
I've been thinking about this post, and the last one. Do I cherish my life and what color is my soul, anyway? Since I lost my beloved in October, my soul has been that lead gray color of the sky when the rain is so heavy that the streets are in flood and I am afraid to go out in fear that my car will careen into something or, horror, someone. But here is the best I can do right now: I cherish my friends; I cherish the thought that a friend's husband came by and "made" me come to their New Year's Eve celebration, even in my tears; I cherish my friend who dropped over on January 1 with the fixings for eggs Benedict and mimosas, and stayed for hours as we discussed everything important in this world, and got me through a whole day without tears. I cherish the pink and gold sunsets over the Pacific and the little songbird that sang to me this morning, "Get up--come out and play." (And I did.)
Susan, thank you for sharing this and writing some insightful questions for reflection as always. I don’t have the answers yet. 2024 was a difficult year, among other things in a professional transition that I don’t think has gone well. So I’m in that uncertain time moving towards a better future, I hope. Your post was just what I needed to hear right now. I need to find a quieter way to interact with the world, one that better honours my preferences, abilities and strengths. Much easier said than done, alas!
Happy New Year and may 2025 bring everyone some beauty, light and joy even in a difficult world.
I love the idea from Martha Beck and his analogy of one degree turn from airplanes:
"We call them one-degree turns, just a little bit every day, turning action in the direction of the truest truth that we can find inside ourselves."
Sorry for the typo: "... Martha Beck and her analogy..."
Thanks for yet another wonderfully timed post, Susan. Resolutions have always been a bit tricky for me to envision and stick to, especially given how much things can change in a year or even a quarter. I've been reflecting recently on what I want this year to mean for me. Not strictly in the sense of what I "should" do but more in how I can direct my attention toward the things I want to do more often. I have a few ideas bouncing around, but we'll see how they take shape.
This resonates deeply. Thank you Susan.
I agree that adopting traditional NY resolutions doesn’t quite cut it as providing useful personal pathways forward in a new year. These past three years, I’ve instead chosen a single word to act as a goal, a guide to positivity and growth. A writer friend gave me the idea in one of her columns after I became immersed in grief. I first chose “renewal,” then “evolve,” and just the other day, “feel.” I attribute this last guiding word as appropriate and natural after the intense introspection and learning I’ve been exposed to in your “Quiet Life” community and through your “Candlelight” experiences. I must add to that Maria Popova’s guided intellectual journeys in her Marginalian through commentary on and connections to the thoughts and writings of great thinkers and deep “feelers.” Vinjay Seshadri, a Brooklyn poet, said in an interview on “Loss and Writing as Therapy” that “To give shape, rhythm, architecture to feelings so powerful and inchoate, to memorialize, to make a musical order, gave those feelings a ground on which to stand and acquire meaning. I really understood, maybe for the first time how deep the act of memorialization is. We became human when we started to bury our dead.” Mary Oliver, in “Some Questions You Might Ask,” “Is the soul solid, like iron? Or is it tender and breakable, like the wings of a moth in the beak of an owl?” And I don’t know what color my soul is but I’m learning I have one. Thank you for all your help.
I feel you, Richard. Can you please say more about what is the "act of memorialization"? I'm curious.
Thank you for this post. I love this new to me expression, “experience-dependent-neuroplasticity” and how you are expressing something I couldn’t really explain, and why I do it every year. I love planners and journals. I don’t set resolutions but I do find that setting goals and having a view and focus of the year ahead helps me lean into my light side because I have a very strong negativity bias. The universe of course seems to mock me when I plan, throwing me road blocks with unexpected things like illness. Well, I’ve learned to have plans that are flexible and often change with little notice. Fluid planning with goals to help ground me to remember the beauty and the good in the world. I like to consider myself a senior in training. Goals, smalls steps now for a happy and healthy future me.
I’m in Arizona on vacation. The colors of my soul reflect the surroundings around me. Colors of the southwest: oranges, yellow and brown. The air is still and peaceful. I hear the mocking bird near me as the beautiful orange sun goes down for the day. I feel at peace for now.
Thank you for this beautiful article Susan, what a delightful and encouraging way to start the new year!
This year I am trying to embrace the “hasten slowly” / “festina lente” mindset. Just as one example, I read as much as possible: to be informed, to learn, to escape. But this year I want to try and slow my reading by keeping a commonplace book and a reading journal. Even when I set a goal number of books for a reading challenge, as long as I’m reading I don’t care if I reach that number. But I do want to give myself the time and energy and space to go in deeper. So far this year, so good!
I would like to think my soul is mother-of-pearl (nacre): a creamy base that reflects so many colors in all their iridescence, but only if seen from the right angle. Plus the material is strong and resilient as well as beautiful, which sounds like a better version of myself that I’d like to become, and maybe I am becoming a little more resilient every day. Given time and room to regrow, I don’t see why not! There are dark stormy colored pearls (and mothers of-pearl), and they too are beautiful :-)
I feel my; Soul is a range of blues like the sky and the ocean, shades of hue always changing amongst the waves, the wind there innately navigating through. But nevertheless, true to the hue which lies within there being. For the wind and waves may get rough at times but the oceans amidst the sky will always be blue amongst every changing shade of hue... Love Warrior
This is beautiful, Susan. My soul has waves of color that shift with my moods and with whatever I'm going through at the time. I would say that right now it's shades of deep blue and red. For me, I'm trying to approach all the colors with kindness and compassion, realizing that the darker colors also have their gifts to bring. If I'm sad, I try to befriend the sadness and go into it, asking questions and trying to listen to the answers. And this, for me, is best done in silence. Sometimes among the trees, sometimes in front of my fireplace, sometimes under the covers in my bed. And sometimes even connecting with someone who shows up at exactly the right time, whether in person or with the gift of connecting online with other writers and readers. Thank you, as always, Susan, for the colors that you bring to the world and for the gift of encouraging the quieter expression of all the colors.
Yesterday, I travelled through the Swiss countryside with my wife. We had no agenda and therefore were free to focus our awareness wherever we felt like. The area we went to had seen some snowfall and there was about two inches on the ground. The trees were covered in white as if coated with sugar, and the sky was turquoise. There was peace.
I suddenly saw the fractal nature of nature in the trees and the snow. I realized that if I were to live a Quiet Life, a life of peace, a life of love locally, it could and would have an impact within my sphere of influence, from which it would spread to other spheres. Like fractals, what would be seen locally, had the potential to be seen globally.
My soul was white as the snow, green as the needles of the pine trees and the ivy, brown as the tree structures, and turquoise as the sky. And it felt absolutely right, as it mirrored the world around me.
But then, I realized that it was not that my soul mirrored the external world. As I created the world by directing my attention, it was the external world that mirrored my internal state. My peace shone forth in nature.
What a beautiful reflection, Ralph. Thank you for sharing it with us.
Winter is a tough season for me. The suffocating gray skies of northern Illinois, the confining cold winds, and end of college football all make it difficult to have soul nourishing thoughts. It becomes a hunker down and wait mentality. But at my age, hunkering down is a waste of the time that I have left on this earth. So thank you for reminding me that I have some control over my thoughts. I can think of golf, for instance. I can think of the early morning tee time with the awakening birds, the dew on the grass, and the warmth of the morning sun. I can turn on the golf channel for a little eye candy. And then, the skies don’t seem so gray.
Once, I was in the park taking a walk and was mentally completely wrapped up in my to-do list and my worries. Remembering that Eckhart Tolle said something like the quality of our consciousness in the moment shapes our future, I pulled myself back into the here and now -- and right in front of me was a most glorious rose bush in full bloom that I had completely missed. What we pay attention can truly make a huge difference!