Meditations on Light, Space, and Impermanence To Give Us Strength for Right Action in Challenging Times
Meditation on Light
With all the darkness in the world right now, it is important to remember that there is still light trying to break through. There are people who care and who are working to try and shift the trajectory, as impossible as it seems. What I’ve been feeling lately is that self-care and working to keep even the smallest spark of hope alive are essential to our well-being.
My family and I recently returned from a wonderful trip out West. We went to visit some friends who are very dear to me, which is so important at this inflection point in our society. Whenever I travel to this part of the country, I’m always struck by the expansiveness of the sky and landscape and this in turn helps me make space between the thoughts that often crowd my mind. On this particular trip, it also felt like I was inhabiting a space where I could be free for a moment from the daily onslaught of bad news and the anxiety this is creating in so many of us. I do not advocate putting our heads in the sand, but it’s important to set specific times for reading or listening to what’s being reported and allow ourselves some periods where we pay attention to nature and find a modicum of balance and inner peace–even if its just for few minutes. Otherwise we might not hold up under the stress.
The image above was made at sunset from just outside the hotel room I was staying in with my family across from the Great Sand Dunes National Park. It had been threatening to storm all day and the rangers had recommended avoiding the dunes, which we did until it seemed clear the bad weather around us was moving away. Just as the sun was slipping below the mountain range, the sky opened up along the horizon and bands of blue sky broke through and alternated with the remaining bands of clouds. The vibrant colors created an electric energy that was the perfect antidote to the apathy and powerlessness I’ve been experiencing. It suddenly seemed that continuing to witness the diurnal cycle of day and night created by the Earth’s rotation was a worthy goal. If I can continue to put one foot in front of the other and maintain my equilibrium at this terrifying time, perhaps I can be of some use in turning the tide, If I allow myself to become overwhelmed and fall into despair, there is no way I can effect any sort of change and I won’t be able to help emotionally support my family. I offer these images in the hopes that they encourage you to find and meditate on light and spaciousness, since I keep hearing from people how trapped and powerless they feel.
Expanding into Space
Watching clouds expand and shape shift has always been a favorite pastime, and when the light illuminates them and alters their hues, gradually and then more swiftly, all other thoughts leave my mind. I embrace transience with enthusiasm, as I wait to see what other magic the combination of light and air will create. That it is still possible to experience such moments while people continue to harm the Earth and each other is a gift from nature for those who pause and look. Allowing ourselves to be swept up by life’s inherent beauty is a radical act, especially in a society that seems increasingly focused on destruction and death. And meditating on transience also reminds us that things will change. Throughout history many authoritarian regimes have failed due to their inherent corruption, but sadly they create a great deal of suffering and destruction before they end as we are witnessing.
The image above was made at sunset in Paonia, a town that has a checkered history as does our country. This area was inhabited by the Ute’s until the 1880, when the Federal Government closed the reservation and relocated the Ute’s to a barren area in Utah. While we were in Durango, we’d visited the Southern Ute Cultural Center and Museum and were impressed by all the interactive displays and short films that showed and discussed how they believe in living in harmony with the Earth. The Ute’s were hunter-gatherers and worked hard to manage the land to ensure the sustainability of its resources. That all changed when the area became settled by Samuel Wade and William Clark following its discovery by John Gunnison, who was on an expedition to find a pass through the mountains. Wade named the town Paoinia after the peony roots he brought with him, but it wasn’t to be all flowers and roses for this landscape. It was learned that huge resources of coal lay beneath the Earth, and coal mining became the town’s biggest industry. In 1981, there was a huge explosion at a nearby mine and 15 miners were killed. After I participated in a yoga class in the town park, I noticed a statue to honor those whose lives were lost. Today most mines have closed, though the West Elk Mine remains open. Organic agriculture, the arts, and tourism have become the predominant industries, and they even have an amazing French bakery that most people in town line up outside of on Sundays. Though the sky is always changing, I have to wonder if those who lived here through their own tumultuous eras looked up and saw similar clouds passing by and whether they lifted people’s spirits. There will always be clouds and outside events that threaten to throw us off course, but ultimately we retain control over our inner lives even as our freedoms are stripped. If we strive to keep a small spark of light burning in our hearts, external forces cannot snuff it out if we don’t let that happen.
Open Prairie with Clouds, Salina, Kansas
On the way to Colorado, we stopped in Salina, Kansas. Early the next morning, we hiked in Indian Rock Park. When we got to this one grassy knoll, the empty space seemed to create breathing room as the clouds swirled in the sky towards some distant point on the horizon. I breathed deeply and took in the smells and felt the same breeze that moved the grasses brush my skin. The soil is very fertile, due to the organic matter provided by prairie grasses that have existed here for centuries. The region has numerous farms and is one of the largest wheat producers in the country. Several years ago, I attended a conference at the Land Institute in Salina, where they are growing Kernza, a perennial non GMO grain that helps with carbon sequestration and soil erosion since it does not have to be replanted every year. This effort is very forward thinking, but the town has its own dark clouds which we would do well to remember so we can be kinder to all people and lifeforms we co-exist with.
After we left the park, I wondered why it is called Indian Rock. The City’s website states that the battle the park was named after occurred in 1857 between Eastern and Western tribes in Kansas for control of hunting grounds. Last May, the Salina Post featured an article in conjunction with the Smoky Hill Museum with a first hand account by Christina Campbell one of the first settlers, and another by William Phillips, one of the town’s founders that appear to validate the city of Salina’s account. (https://salinapost.com/posts/193f8fab-8c2d-4e48-8868-8099eb44649f) Yet, it was difficult for me to believe that the history of this region and this battle were not more nuanced than this, especially given Federal removal and relocation policies in the mid 19th Century and ongoing discrimination. I did some preliminary research which I still need to delve more deeply into by contacting tribes and historical societies when I have time. Everything I learned was from asking questions and seeing what information was provided, which can be true but AI can also generate incorrect information. According to my internet search, the Kansas Historical Society described the park’s history as “folklore” and lacking supporting documents. Some Native Americans and historians are said to claim that this version erases more difficult truths, such as those surrounding the nearby Salina Burial Pit where the remains of 146 indigenous people were on view as a tourist attraction until it was finally closed in 1989. I was appalled to learn that the bodies had been treated so disrespectfully, but that does not mean that I want to change history so I don’t have to feel this way. Some claim by saying the park was named for a violent battle between tribes, history is sanitized and the role of Colonialism is overlooked. The frightening thing is that it is already difficult to find accurate historical sources for indigenous history and this issue is only going to get worse under the current administration. No wonder keeping history alive through story telling is so important in indigenous cultures. Now more than ever, when I stand on land I want to know the history of who walked before me and what actually happened. The land holds traces of energy of all beings that once lived on it, and it is more palpable in places that have not been developed and cemented over. The breathing space of this land, allowed me to ask the questions we should all be asking if we care about the creation of a more just society. We owe it to ourselves to save documents, books and historical records, so that the resources that do still exist don’t disappear. We are learning just how dangerous ignorance of history and control of the narrative by a few in power can be. Though this likely has always been true in part, some eras are more honest about the past than others and only through courage and honesty can we grow as a people.
Though I started by offering you space to calm your minds and hearts, I’ve ended by referring to some of what is happening and has happened in our country that we should be concerned about. Perhaps by finding some inner balance first, we will be strong enough to become aware, pay attention, and act, as one of the Reverends at the church where I had a recent solo show said in one of her sermons. Keep writing or creating art or music. Visit friends and care for loved ones and those who need help the most. Do anything that helps you feel like you still have agency and a voice and can make a difference, no matter how small it might seem in comparison to the annihilation we are witnessing. We owe it to ourselves, all who are suffering, our children, and those who come after us. As my mother often used to say, “Stay Calm and Carry On,” a slogan that originated during the Second World War–an era she lived through in England that until recently I’d thought we learned from and wouldn’t repeat.