InnerBliss: The Changeable Self

Eventually, this hydrangea will be dark periwinkle.

Listening to: Talk about maturation! This singer keeps evolving. The song becomes more powerful the longer you watch.

Today's Bliss Formula: A wee bit of breakfast brownie with my espresso. Mmmm, decadence.

I have overcome a lot of health problems that mainstream medicine says I should not have. To start, I got rid of my migraines. I'd had migraines since I was twelve, and I would get them anywhere from 4 to 8 times a month, and they were utterly debilitating. At one point, I lost a bit of sight in my left eye due to migraine. I never responded well to pharmaceuticals, and so finally, I took the matter into my own hands and was successful.

During my senior year of college, I started throwing up what looked like coffee grounds. Classic bleeding ulcer. The doctors told me I would just always be a Person Suffering from Ulcers. They had told me the same about my migraines when their pills wouldn't work. And they told me the same about a couple of other things as well.

If I had believed them...

But luckily, I didn't. Luckily, I did a little reading (my answer to everything), and I learned some interesting things about our physical bodies. Like the fact that the stomach lining replaces itself every five days.

Hmmm, I thought, if my stomach lining replaces itself every five days, then how am I to believe that my ulcer is "forever?"

There is nothing about us, physically, that stays the same for very long. Our cells are constantly replicating themselves and dying off.

If we are always changing on a cellular level, what would make us believe that we are the same day to day on a spiritual or emotional level?

Enter the concept in Buddhism known, in the West, as "No Self."

This can be one of the most perplexing of Buddhist concepts for a Westerner to grasp, and it can feel like it gets in the way of any kind of spiritual "progress" for many people. We use it as an intellectual stumbling block.

First a disclaimer: Though I think it's important for us to learn from all sources, regardless of their country of origin, I think it can be just as important to see what we already have. Perhaps if we delve deeper into our own traditions, we will find what we are looking for. The lure of the exotic should not be mistaken for "better." This is another post in and of itself.

Back to "No Self."

I think I have finally figured out what this can mean for my Western mind. Rather than seeing our goal as the obliteration of self, which I think is an impossible and unhealthy goal, we should see this as an invitation to know our self's as composed of infinite possibility.

It is not "No Self" but rather "No Permanent Self."

This is a radically freeing concept if you think about it.

It means that you can't put your self in any kind of box.

Georgie O'Keefe said once that even a small flower is never truly seen. How can we think, as complex human beings, that we are able to see ourselves or anyone else in their totality?

There are two ends of the Self Spectrum that are dangerous.

First, there is the end that is determined to have a concrete, once and for all defined concept of Self. I lived here for a long time.

This results in being stuck. You get stuck in your labels and your stories about your self.

So rather than understanding that depression is a temporary thing, you define yourself as "depressed."

This is why clinical diagnosis can be an awful thing. (Unless, of course, we are talking about people who are dangerous to themselves or others.) Your therapist writes "Chronic Mild Depression," and suddenly, your whole life story fits into that category -- your past and your future.

And is that who you truly want to be for your entire time here? Change is difficult but it is also easy. You just decide to be different. This does not mean you might not still have "stuff" to work through but the stuff is not you -- it is outside of you and you can remain your calm and happy self while working through it.

The other dangerous extreme is a self that is so undefined that it becomes vaporous. You have no center. You are so changeable that you immediately respond to the moods of people around you. You are constantly on the move, looking for a better life. You don't understand how to run the slow and steady race because you want instant gratification.

When you are at this end, you never fulfill your potential because you are constantly thinking there is an option you might be missing out on.

Perhaps you are good at lots of things and are afraid to make choices because that would then, seemingly, limit your choices. But to become truly good at something, to really delve into your deepest parts, you have to make choices. It's part of growing up, really. It's how you have a rich experience of your life instead of a shallow one.

It doesn't mean you can't make new choices, but you have to do this carefully and really ask yourself why you want to change again. Is it out of a sincere desire to do something challenging or are you still looking for something external to make you happy?

Somewhere on this "self spectrum" there has to be health, right? Of course. And as usual, that would be the middle way.

In terms of self, the middle way would be the awareness of our fluidity.

This is freedom. Being responsive to the now and not reacting out of the past. Always allowing for the best you to come out. Knowing you feel like crap now, but you that doesn't mean you will the next minute.

But the middle way of fluidity also respects the basic fact that we are water, meaning we know what we are made of. We know our basics. We respect commitments. We respect ourselves and our most treasured beliefs and priorities.

If we are acting out of love and compassion and kindness, that is a good indicator that we are being true to our essential selves.

If we measure our actions by those standards and not by material desires, we really can't go wrong. But we don't just apply those standards to how we treat others -- we also apply them to how we treat ourselves.

We accept that we have down days and then we move on. We accept that we have failures and then we move on.

Moving like water, never believing that we are down or that we are failure. Knowing that we are infinite possibility within a finite experience.

Do you allow yourself to be new or are you stuck?

EcoBliss: Keeping a Weather Journal, More Important than You Think

Walking further than I normally would want to,
we happened upon this lovely fern forest.

Listening to: This song, I think, exemplifies how many people feel about "bad" weather.

Today's Bliss Formula: I am luxuriating in the time with my frog today. And in the fact that we have no more trips scheduled at all for the rest of the summer. The only "trip" I want to take is a regular jaunt down to our peninsula's beaches. And a walk to our backyard to sit on our plaid blanket and wait for birds.

As I mentioned yesterday, the best part of our trip this past weekend was the walking. Lots of walks. And the best walk was into the woods. There are patches of old growth forest here and you can feel there is age and wisdom amongst these trees.

During one of our walks, it was starting to rain. This normally would send me running for cover, shrieking even while I do so. Yes, I am a princess. And though my hair is not cotton candy puffy in any way whatsoever and I don't wear makeup or high heels or silk, I think I may melt. I'm not convinced that I won't, anyway.

But this time, Frog pointed out to me that the woods were like an umbrella and I took enough of a breath to realize that she was speaking the truth. So instead of running and most likely slipping and falling, I relaxed and enjoyed myself.

I've had this thing with the weather. I think it's because my father, who if the weather weren't to his liking in some specific way, spent a good deal of time swearing at it. I picked up the habit, sadly.

But being car free has gone a long way to changing my tune.

Also, being depression free has helped. And I think that is a key to this puzzle for many people.

We tend to use the weather as a mirror for our own emotions. So if we feel at all bad and wake up to a gray sky, we blame the weather for our mood. When really, the feeling about the weather is coming from the mood.

How I judge the weather -- as either "good" or "bad" or "pretty" -- has everything to do with my own internal landscape at that moment.

The weather is not out to get you.

The weather, really, has nothing to do with you.

Be grateful for the rain; most parts of this country are suffering from drought.

Be grateful for the four feet of snow; precipitation is precipitation and four feet of snow sometimes closes things down. We used to love that when we were little.

Let me also discourage people from seeing the weather as somehow our "fault." Yes, there is something going on in terms of climate change. There is no denying that. (Well, there is, but if your last name isn't Bush, you probably put some stock in real science.)

But...regardless of climate change, you can't change the fact of the rain. You can't blame climate change for earthquakes. Big hurricanes have always happened. Tsunamis have always happened. Stuff has always happened.

If you're that worried about the weather, stop driving.

Now, I have proof about this weather thing not really being a big deal: I keep a weather journal. So when people say things to me like "GOD! This spring is so COLD!" I can say, "Well, actually, last year about two days different from today, it was the same temperature." (What a pain in the arse I am!)

Or the classic in my neck of the woods is surprise at "late" snow. But I can document that we almost always get a bit of wet snow once the forsythia are completely yellow.

My weather journal has taught me about cycles and consistency. It has taught me, for example, no matter what we like to tell ourselves, that each season really is just about the same length of time.

It has taught me about the Buddhist concept of no attachment and no aversion. The weather simply is. Like much of life simply is.

It has taught me to pay attention to the rhythms of the season and thus to my own rhythms. For example, during the hottest parts of summer, I am not likely to do daily yoga and I am more likely to nap. This is just part of my own personal cycle.

So, try this. I am a regular journal writer -- and you should be too if you are in any way a seeker -- so at the top of each journal entry, I write "Planet," and under that I write a brief description of the weather, and if it is the growing season, I track what's happening in our yard or with the trees.

This is an awesome and powerful way to feel more connected to your life and your community. When you notice each tree, each flower, each bird, you feel responsible for their well being as well as your own.

If anything, when you look back and compare the "Planet" section to the rest of your journal, you might start to notice how much you blame the external weather for your internal weather, and maybe, eventually, you'll stop.

That's when you'll know that true change is in the air.

MysticBliss: Clear Your Mind of Pollutants and Bad Weather

YUM!

Listening to: Sounds from space. Reminds me of chant. But then it was the ancient yogis who discerned that the universe speaks "OM."

Today's Bliss Formula: Coffee on the porch of an old house; my journal to write in and good books to read. No computer can be a good thing for a day or two (or more...).

I know a lot of people are doing the whole Eckhart Tolle/Oprah on-line thing, so I thought a little Power of Now would be good today.

I love this book; I think it's his best work. I feel like he wrote this and now he just keeps re-writing it. If that makes sense.

My copy has at least two colors of ink in it and after making my mark throughout the text during a couple of readings...well...there's barely anything not underlined.

The first time I read this book, when it was out years ago, I was at a coffee shop downtown. I had to take a bus home and it was snowing -- early winter, wet snow. It was very cold. Our buses here are notoriously late so I sat on a bench and started to wait. In the cold. Getting wet.

Normally this would have made me a bit peeved.

But I had the most amazing experience. I knew I was cold, but I knew it didn't matter. I felt myself getting smiley instead of peeved. A gruff looking motorcylcle dude walked by; he stopped and backed up. Stood a polite number of feet away from me and said, "You are a beautiful woman." He smiled and walked away. He wasn't hitting on me; he didn't expect anything.

But I had been feeling like I was glowing, so I knew it wasn't what I looked like physically that he was responding to.

From Tolle:

Once you have identified with some form of negativity, you do not want to let go, and on a deeply unconscious level, you do not want positive change. It would threaten your identity as depressed, angry, or a hard-done-by person. You will then ignore, deny, or sabotage the positive in your life. This is a common phenomenon. It is also insane.

Negativity is totally unnatural. It is a psychic pollutant...

Whenever you notice that some form of negativity has arisen within you, look on it not as a failure, but as a helpful signal that is telling you: "Wake up..."

Even the slightest irritation is significant and needs to be acknowledged and looked at; otherwise, there will be a cumulative build-up of unobserved reaction.

Remember that your mind is as a big and bright as the blue sky. Clouds will come; storms will come; wind will come; but all weather systems are temporary. Some last longer than others, but cultivate a willingness to let the storms pass.

Cultivate methods by which you can help the storm move through your life; breathing and yoga always work for me. Journaling. Talking. Walking until you are done with it.

I think, too, that we forget that while the storm is blowing, the sun and blue sky are still there.

InnerBliss: Despair as a Tipping Point

You are a source of Wisdom and Strength
to those around you.
Painting by Marcy Hall.

Listening to: This song makes my heart happy to the point of bursting. And he just keeps getting better.

Today's Bliss Formula: Music. Books. Poetry. All of it. Writing. Walking. A rabbit in the next room. Three cats napping in sun spots. A frog outside reading and writing in her journal. Strawberries waiting for ice cream. Did I say music?

Let me preface this post by stating that I surely know despair. Intimately. But I do not see this blog as a personal diary, so I won't ever get into too many details about myself. I'll save that material for my novels -- besides, it seems more fitting of fiction.

But I have known despair. I have known deep and dark sadness. I have known the loss of the will to live. I have never actively tried to die but I have given up, wanted to sleep and not wake.

Yet these moments have not lasted or I would not be here.

This morning I woke up thinking about the sense of despair I have been getting from writers whom I thought would not go there. Writers whom I thought were beacons of hope. And then when I got online, behold -- many posts today about despair.

(Please stick with me through this; it may make you angry, but please just look into your anger, look past it to the underlying fear.)

I think we need to start at the beginning here with a definition (provided by the trusty Oxford English Dictionary -- shorter version; who can afford the longer?!).

Despair (noun): 1) complete loss or absence of hope; (a feeling of) hopelessness. 2) a cause of hopelessness; a thing about which there is not hope.

No hope.

No hope.

Strong language, that.

Stronger than I think most of us really intend. I think despair somehow has taken on a spiritual luster. Whereas saying "I am pissed" feels unseemly and aggressive, but perhaps is more appropriate for much of what we are feeling. Or "I am scared" or "I am grieving."

But no hope?

Despair is not a place to reside but rather a moment in time, a tipping point, a precipice. It is when you arrive at the cliff and decide to jump off into oblivion or walk away and figure it out.

And figuring it out might hurt and it might suck and it might take a long time, but in the very act of figuring it out, of looking into it, of diving in, you are displaying, working from hope.

You are not hopeless.

You have walked away from the cliff.

I have walked away from many cliffs. This November I will turn 40 and it has taken me a long time to figure out that I don't want to be anywhere near that cliff ever again. It has taken me a long time to figure out that despair is simply not real.

Despair comes about because we are attached to things being a certain way or we are attached to the idea of how things "should" be. We are attached to illusions.

Perhaps our childhood wasn't what we thought it should be. Mine wasn't. But my life now is mine and I believe that my childhood gave me gifts -- not because of the fear and sadness that I experienced but despite the fear and sadness and because of my own resilience and determination.

Perhaps we have lost a loved one "too soon," but would we choose to have never know them at all so as to avoid the pain of that loss? We can't bring them back but we can't lament their loss to the point of despair -- it is equal to lamenting their being.

I think of Gandalf telling Frodo, "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

Despair locks us down, paralyzes us. Wouldn't we rather act? Don't we owe ourselves action?

There is no mystical tradition that says despair is okay -- not as a long term response to anything (and I do mean anything). Jesus tells us to love -- no matter what. The Buddha tells us that at our most essential nature we are "ground luminosity."

No despair resides in love; no despair resides in luminosity.

The world may feel like it is ending, but look around at the beauty, look around at this creation. The sky is blue. There are Great Blue Herons on this planet. There is the unconditional, never ending love of an animal companion.

Science tells us that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. Hinduism tells us the same -- you cannot die because you were never born.

The freedom of that! The freedom to believe that no matter what "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." (St. Julian)

Let go of the illusions that tell you anything else. Let go of the illusions that hold you back or make you sad. Anything that keeps you from realizing your inner diamond nature is an illusion.

You are a spiritual warrior who never stops fighting.

As you enter this life
I pray you depart
with a wrinkled face
and a brand new heart.

-- U2 (Love and Peace or Else)

If you're needing a bit more inspiration, check out the "prayer wheel" at this place.

Never cease praying (or visualizing or chanting or wishing on stars -- like I say, whatever you feel comfortable with).

But do stop despairing. There's no time to waste.

RandomBliss: Where is your Bliss Station?

Where I work in the mornings.

Listening to: I went looking for B-52's (it seemed right with the summer weather) and found this combination.

Today's Bliss Formula: Today I get to meet, for coffee, the owner of this lovely looking place -- someone I have met because of this blog. Cool. And then I have hours at the library reference desk, about which I am a little too excited. Geek.

I picked up the most recent copy of Yoga + Joyful Living yesterday at the Whole Foods Co-op, and later in the day, sitting on a plaid blanket in our yard, I opened it and came across some Joseph Campbell.

As you may or may not know, this blog is heavily influenced by Joseph Campbell, as I wrote about in my very first post. (Which had no picture!!? Or differently colored words?!?!)

Yoga Plus quotes Campbell from his famous interview with Bill Moyers in 1988 (watch it. really you should).

As you get older, the claims of the environment upon you are so great that you hardly know where the hell you are. What is it you intended? You're always doing something that is required of you this minute, that minute, another minute. Where is your bliss station?

I love that question: What is it you intended?

I think this is a question we could ask ourselves every evening, to check in and see if we are living our priorities or if we are living other people's expectations of us. We could ask it at the end of the week, the end of the month, and the end of every year. Good stuff.

He goes on to explain the concept of the bliss station:

You must have a room or a certain hour a day or so where you do not know what was in the newspapers that morning. You don't know who your friends are. You don't know what you owe anybody. You don't know what anybody owes to you. But a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. First you may find that nothing's happening there. But if you have a sacred place and use it and take advantage of it, something will happen.

If these were the only instructions you ever received for living, they'd be enough.

The room in the picture at the top of this post is one of my bliss stations. When thinking about this concept, I realized that we have created a house that is all bliss station in one form or another.

The room in this picture is where I work in the mornings, where I imagine my creative life into being, but it is also where I do yoga. And for me, yoga is my most important bliss station. The very act of yoga brings forth my true nature.

If I am anxious, I remember during yoga that my true self is free of anxiety, that my true self is free. Period. If I can't figure out what my next step is in some project, during yoga it comes to me.

It makes sense to me that my writing room and my yoga room are one and the same. Doing yoga gets me out of my head and into my body where all the inspiration and ideas actually live. I love that this room is on the second floor with a dormer through which I can observe the world but not be seen. And it is orange -- the color of creativity and energy and fire.

Another of my bliss stations, the back yard, is where we sit at night and watch the sunset and look at the stars and sit at a fire with friends. In this back yard, in this pink chair, I can look up at the big sky and remember that my mind is also like that -- expansive.

Do you have a bliss station? Or more than one? If you don't, make one. Find a space. Fill it with things that have meaning for you. Or empty it of everything. Whichever helps most.

Then sit there and listen for the silence. Deep within the silence you will begin to hear your true, honest, real voice. The voice that will tell you all your dreams and how to achieve them.

Or go to this bliss station with a specific question in mind. No matter how heavy the question, hold it lightly.

This is a good place to ask the big ones: who am I? Why am I here? What should I do? What is my bliss? What is it that I intended? Where the hell am I?

Remember, Joseph Campbell says you must do this daily. You must be committed, above all, to yourself and your dreams. You're here for a reason and you must be loyal to that reason.

Joseph Campbell's writings provide an excellent map, but you must explore the territory.

RandomBliss: The Walking Dead of "Lost"

Poppies will make them sleepy!

Listening to: Look how young he is!

Today's Bliss Formula: I've been in a cleaning out mood. Organizing, throwing away, and making room for whatever newness wants to enter our lives. A long weekend with Frog this weekend, starting tonight when she gets home!

We don't own a television. I hesitate to tell people this once they know we don't have a car. "Freaks!" I imagine them thinking.

But television gets in my way. Seriously. I am not exaggerating when I say that having a TV, for me, is akin to having a fully stocked bar in the house if you are an alcoholic. I watch and I surf and I leave it on. We put it in the basement, in the closet, and I go and get it and put it back and get it out again.

So when our TV broke down three years ago, we kicked it to the curb. For good.

Then along came our beautiful Apple computers that play DVD's.

And yet I have found that there is something inherently different about watching DVD's. First, you are in total control of the content. Second, and so important, there are no commercials or news breaks. And finally, it makes watching special -- like it must have felt when people could first go to the movie theatre -- it's an event.

We have avoided a lot of cultural trash -- and a lot of fear mongering -- by not having a TV.

And then we find things we love...

And the show Lost has been one of those things. We weren't on board until about a year ago, so we watched the first two and half seasons sequentially with no waiting required. Now every week, Frog will email me from work on Friday morning and write "Is the Lost up yet?" She means, is last night's Lost available on iTunes yet?

I find this program fascinating for so many reasons.

To begin, it has to be the largest epic story ever told. Think about it...It certainly is longer than any epic ever written down. And it is the longest, single narrative arc program ever to run on Television. (Don't talk to me about Doctor Who -- there's no single, unitive arc there. Sure, there's the single idea but no arc -- no plot and characters that change and morph and grow and expand.)

But it's the content that really gets me. I see the writers working out all the little details as they go and I see them noticing mistakes and correcting for them. The writers are rather amazing.

And the inclusion of all the mythology and philosophy!

It makes the geek in me ever so happy to re-watch and make new connections.

And I know the creators have been claiming for a long time that there is nothing supernatural going on, but I think we can all agree that that is smoke screen, especially since the freaking island just up and moved.

Besides, like with literature, once it's out there, boys, it's out there and it's no longer yours -- it now belongs to the reader/viewer.

The "text" comes alive when the reader/viewer consumes it.

So my reading of Lost, regardless of what the writers/creators have in mind:

It does not matter if these people are alive or dead in the real sense, because every one of them was spiritually dead before they got on that plane. In one way or another, because of themselves or other people, they were the walking dead (and I think it significant that John Locke was the only one of them who couldn't literally walk).

Their time on the island is their chance to complete a particular karmic cycle or to redeem themselves...whatever language you want to use, whatever makes sense to you.

And those who get off the island have cut themselves off from that chance. They have gone back to sleep, gone back to being one of the walking dead.

The whole entire program could be seen as a metaphor for awakening. And yet some of us are more comfortable asleep... The entire program shows us how every minute of every day is about choice, about personal responsibility.

The character, besides John Locke, who has really gotten to me was Charlie. Poor Charlie -- always blaming other people for all his bad choices in life.

But on the island he learns to love himself and to care for others. He learns that his own life is nothing compared to the larger picture. That it is just flesh and there is no real death.

The scene when he dies, crossing himself as he drowns, I think, is the most touching scene of the whole show so far.

Charlie has found his redemption. Or in karmic terms, I don't think he's coming back as a worm and he was pretty much headed in that direction.

The most thrilling part of this show, for me, is how it's making people think about these things. Think about our place in the world. Think about community and what it is. Think about what it is we really need in this life. Think about philosophy.

Think philosophically. This show is teaching people something about critical thinking.

If that doesn't make television a viable and creative medium, then neither are books or music or art. And sure, it's still mostly trash (with a huge dash of fear) -- but look at the most popular books in your local library!

SharedBliss: Interview with Artist Kelli Bickman

"Lotus Bliss" by Kelli Bickman

Listening to: This song comes to mind as summer approaches.

Today's Bliss Formula: 39 years old and I get to say things like this: "Today I go to get my rubber bands changed on my braces! Perhaps pink?" (Right now, they are ocean blue.)

I think I have mentioned before that my introduction to the idea of blogging came about because I looked up Neil Gaiman a few years back, after having read and been blown away by American Gods.

And it was through reading his blog that I discovered the art of Kelli Bickman.

Bickman's art was a revelation for a couple of reasons. First of all, because it is. Much like Gaiman, Bickman dares to mix -- color, theme, mythology -- and she does so with respect and humor at the same time. A difficult feat.

Secondly, it was a personal revelation. My partner had been painting for a few years at this point and what she was doing did not look like what people thought of as "serious art," and yet she was not interested in producing "serious art." She wanted to make people think, yes, but more importantly to look at a painting and feel good -- even if just for that one moment.



"Green Tara" by Bickman

Kelli Bickman, a serious artist to be sure, does just that and proved to my partner and to me that art produced from a sense of joy could lead to an artist's life -- you know, the kind we all dream of, where our art is our living and our living is our art.

I think art such as Bickman's is actually the most "serious" of all in that it expresses something joyful and ecstatic about being human. I think, too, that art like this can only come from a certain kind of soul -- a happy, broad-minded, and delighted-with-life soul.

(Besides her own website, you can find her here and here.)

Describe the PrimeBliss of your life. How did you come to know that this was your PrimeBliss?

My PrimeBliss is the act of creating art. There are moments when everything of this earthly existence falls away and becoming one with creation envelopes me, time stands still and everything is perfect in that moment...from what I understand, this is what most creators search for. Mostly I am a painter but I explore many mediums. I prefer to work on large scale works, murals especially, but finding bliss can be in the simple act of making a line drawing as well...no matter what medium, it is the act of creation itself that thrills me. There are times when I am doing a commercial job and I literally laugh out loud because it is so wonderful to make money doing what I love. I've always been an artist but I guess I KNEW it when every job I had felt like I was 'doing time' for a paycheck unless I was creating...and I've had many jobs from receptionist to waiting tables in a jazz club to dressing windows at Saks Fifth Ave. I would always come home after my 'job' and make collages (early works) or paintings. When things started selling, it was very encouraging and I dedicated more time to creating and then somewhere around 2001 I made the leap of faith to paint full time. It hasn't always been easy but I remain steadfast in my intention to make a living as a fine artist and, God willing, my career keeps getting better every day.

"White Tara" by Bickman

What types of choices and sacrifices did you make to be able to craft this bliss-filled life?

I guess the biggest sacrifice in my life right now is space. I have a decent sized apartment in the West Village of NYC, but it is always full of visitors and family and seems to get smaller every day. My challenge is to find a space to paint large scale works in and store the hundreds of paintings I've made in a place other then my bedroom (one never gets away from the art when confronted with it first thing in the morning and last thing at night) and then find the time and energy to make the art.

How does your PrimeBliss radiate out into the rest of your life?

Creating works of art is only 50% of the job. The other 50% comes from an audience receiving the work. Sharing is a fundamental part of the exchange between the artist and viewer. So, my PrimeBliss is really to share my creations with other people all over the world. My work doesn't serve me or anyone when it is stacked up in my studio, so I love having shows or publishing images so the creative exchange exists. And, of course, when I sell work, I tend to be much happier and like to share my abundance with the people closest to me!

What are some other activities that also give you this sense of bliss? Things that make you lose track of time?

I live in Manhattan but grew up in a very small town in Minnesota. My nearest neighbor was a mile away and we had almost 400 acres of land. My father was a farmer, and although I was never much of a help to him on the farm (other than cooking meals), I do love to get my hands into the earth. We have an 800 sq foot deck on the back of my apartment (another rarity in NYC), so I have started an urban garden...very blissful to watch things grow and know that in a few months I will be able to go out back and pick strawberries, lettuce, kale, swiss chard, and many various herbs from our little garden (we even compost our organic waste to make soil for next year's crops). I also love camping, swimming, hiking, traveling, biking, and just generally being in nature. I appreciate Mother Earth so much more after living in a big city.

What is your daily or weekly spiritual practice?

Most important for me is to try to be mindful in every waking moment. I also do dream therapy before and after sleeping. Being grateful for everything is key to any spiritual practice. I also read tarot cards for myself as a guide. I practice yoga and do my best to sit in meditation, but in all honesty, I sometimes get lazy with practice even though I know it can help me move mountains.

What music is your bliss?

I love Krishna Das, George Harrison, Fredo Viola (www.fredoviola.com), Kid Loco, Brett Dennon, Bob Marley, and a billion others...depends on my mood at the moment. I did Live Painting at Seed Gallery in Newark last week and the DJ was really amazing...turned me on to a bunch of new electronica that was so inspiring to create to.

Name books or authors/poets or people who are your bliss, who influenced your bliss.

The biggest life changing books for me were: "Autobiography of a Yogi" by Yogananda Parasambava, "Conversations with God" by Neale Donald Walsh, "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho, and "The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying" by Soygal Rinpoche. And, of course, one of my all time favorite writers is Neil Gaiman. I used to work for him, and he taught me so much about the world and has inspired me enormously. He has also been one of my greatest patrons.

What advice would you give to someone who feels they have not yet discovered their PrimeBliss?

Sit quietly and ask for guidance. The answer is always there if you can quiet your mind enough to listen to the voices in your head. Angels really do walk among us and are here to guide us towards our life purpose...all we have to do is be present in our lives and let the magic of the universe work through us and be clear in our intention. There are many great teachers on finding Bliss...Wayne Dyer is a great teacher to help people work with the power of intention and shift consciousness to a higher way of being. Another great teacher is Eckhart Tolle...he teaches stillness and is really amazing. Our planet is in a time of crisis, and each individual person needs to work to stay balanced to deal with the changes that are happening. I tend to listen to the audio versions of their books while I am painting or driving...it keeps me focused and in touch with what is 'real' amidst the chaos of existence as we know it on planet earth.

Do you have a favorite quote you would like to share?

Thoughts create reality.

And don't we all wish our reality
looked a lot more
like Bickman's thoughts?

"Mother of Love II" by Bickman

QuoteBliss: Liberation from the Box

If somebody has the good sense to be depressed, malfunctioning, hallucinating, dropping out of society because their mind-body complex is saying "no" to the whole nonsense and looking for some better way of being, a liberating psychology should not try to stuff them back into the box. They should not be just rushed straight ahead, encouraged to wash the dishes, do their jobs, and pounce on the enemy, just because that's what everyone else is doing. People who have the sensitivity and insight to see through the meaninglessness should be able to find someone to help them discover freedom, which is what they are looking for.

--Robert Thurman, Infinite Life: Awakening to Bliss Within

EverydayBliss: Resisting What Makes Us Happy

After sitting outside to journal.

Listening to right now: The Early Music Show, BBC Radio 3

Today's Happiness Formula: A great response yesterday to the first interview! More to come...

Following My Bliss By: Working on my partner's manuscript today; I will finish those corrections! Yes, I will.

Over the past year, I have been consumed by the needs of sick animals and I felt like I had a good day if I managed to journal. First, our sweet orange tabby, Ernie (age 13), passed away -- quite suddenly April 2007 -- and then our angel black and white Jobie (age 16) became ill and passed away, at home, in my arms, this January.

We felt blessed to have so much time with them -- and at the end, we were able to focus on them in the way that most humans can only wish for.

Though we are still in mourning, we are slowly and surely making our way to our "new normal," as grief therapists seem to like to call it.

And that includes getting back to our creative endeavors, which for me is a very thick, in-need-of-serious-revision manuscript, sitting patiently in a cabinet a few feet from me.

To get back to my own writing, I am doing two things. First, I am helping my partner revise her novel. This is a good way to for me to get back to working with words and not feel so attached.

Second, I am blogging, which has been a surprisingly effective way to strengthen my very weak writing muscles -- the muscles that need to be worked every single day.

Every single day.

This is hard for me.

I am, by nature, a routine cat. But my most consistent routine is the resistance of this fact about myself.

I have talked to many people about this: why do we resist doing the very things that we know and claim are good for us?

When I am writing, the "I" in that phrase gets lost. "I" feel immersed in something larger, timeless, full.

This happens at other times: when I do yoga, when I am weeding or dead-heading in the garden, when I am reading some very excellent book, when I am bird-watching.

When I am truly present to these activities, "I" feel immense. At moments like these, I know I am experiencing empirical evidence that "I" am not "it."

But given the choice, how many of us would avoid our own small lists of self-fulfilling, self-expanding, most-loved endeavors in favor of ... cleaning the house, saying "yes" to an event we have no desire to go to, watching TV... anything to avoid the very things that make us who we are.

Obviously, someone like Kal Barteski does not have this problem. Or at least, does not have this problem to the extent that the rest of us do. She has learned how to move past the hesitation (as Sakyong Mipham would label it); she has learned not to mistake that transparent, temporary feeling for her truth.

Be courageous and discipline yourself.
Work. Keep digging your well.
Don't think about getting off from work.
Water is there somewhere.
Submit to a daily practice.
Your loyalty to that
is a ring on the door.
Keep knocking, and the joy inside
will eventually open a window
and look out to see who's there.

--Rumi (Trans. Coleman Barks)

This is a Rumi that we should all read every day, every morning. It could easily be turned into a personal prayer, mantra, affirmation (whichever term floats your boat).

It is so simple yet so difficult, isn't it?

But the key is to do it anyway. That key will open the door to your bliss, your never-ending well of joy and fulfillment -- the magic elixir, if you will, that will enable you to live through anything, even your "worst" things, as I have learned over the past year.

Jobie, in particular, was the first being to teach me about unconditional love -- the giving and the receiving. I met Jobie before I met my partner, and I think he prepared me for her. (She came along two years later.) My heart felt broken before I met Jobie and he started the healing process. I thought I was an angry person and he showed me I was just sad. Sad can be mended.

So when I would imagine not having him, it seemed like the worst thing that could ever happen to me. But his teachings were deep and far and wide, and his love opened my heart which opened my life.

By the time he became ill, he'd spent 16 years teaching me -- with the eventual help of others, of course! By the time he passed in my arms, by the time I felt that last breath leave his little body, I was ready for the next level of lessons.

And so I write, every day, and I do yoga, and I weed the gardens. And I don't resist like I used to.

Because the resistance, I have learned from that wise cat, is a "no" to life.

That resistance is no hope, no trust, no belief.

And once our hearts open and the hope and trust and belief and "yes" are allowed to rush in, the resistance is washed away in the flood of who you really are, a flood of what you are truly capable of, the flood of your infinite power.

I say "yes" to it all now -- to the joy and the fun and the laughs and also to the grief and the tears -- because it is all one and the same.