http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/Tue, 23 Apr 2013 14:15:26 +0000en-USSquarespace V5 Site Server v5.13.166 (http://www.squarespace.com)StillbookFri, 06 Apr 2012 19:56:08 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2012/4/6/letter-to-a-cedar-waxwing.html134959:10678336:15747309 After you flew into the window at work,
I brought you home.

You looked suprisingly soft and peaceful
when I scooped you up from the concrete
and cradled you in that old paper bag.

The way your neck and wings
fell and curled back made me
hesitate and try not to break
anything else.

It was a cool and sunny morning
and sometimes I wonder
what you were thinking
just before the end.

Maybe you were thinking the same thing I was.
I bet we'd be simpatico that way.


]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-15747309.xmlStillbookMon, 12 Mar 2012 23:36:02 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2012/3/12/on-volunteering.html134959:10678336:15406636
Occasionally people will say…“You need to get out more.” Or they’ll say… “You think too much. Why do you have to analyze everything?” Or, my favorite… “Must be nice to be able to do what you want all the time. I wish I could be that selfish.”

Luckily, I’ve grown accustomed to these types of comments and misinterpretations over the years. At first I felt defensive, but now these accusations mostly tend to spark my curiosity. I think of them as clues to help me to understand the way other people think. Clues that help me to understand who I might be able to develop deeper relationships with and who I probably can’t.

Perhaps, from the outside, for a very social person, a quiet life of reflection might seem selfish. If someone is keeping mostly to himself, then he must be ignoring important social and political issues that affect us all. After all, how can we help other people when we spend time alone? How can thinking about oneself lead to thinking about other people?

But in the deepest sense, I think that this is exactly how it works. I think that when we think of ourselves, then we start to become aware of what is important for others as well. When we determine that in some ways, we are alike, and in other ways, we are different, then we begin to realize that it’s important to study each other before we can actually know how to help each other.

And perhaps most importantly, if we don’t take the time to understand ourselves, we will never find the places that will allow us to impact our communities the most.

For example, a few years ago, during a stressful time in my life, I started spending quite a lot of time exploring my local park system. When the weather was clear, I’d bring a book to a park and relax for an hour or two. After a few visits, I started bringing my camera and taking photos, which in turn, got me thinking about putting together an exhibition.

Then one day, I asked a good friend of mine if she would be willing to help me organize a charity event. Since I knew that she was an outgoing person with a big heart, I thought maybe we could team up and raise money to help preserve and protect our local park system. She agreed, and together we sold about a dozen of my photos and raised over a thousand dollars. Although it’s not a large amount of money, it sure felt good to give to a cause so close to my heart. And, it felt good to do it with such a great friend.

It’s hard to believe that exhibition was almost five years ago. I guess time flies when you spend most of your time working, reading, and writing.

A couple of months ago, I started volunteering for my local park system again. During a couple of chilly Saturday mornings, I’ve been helping to build hiking trails just north of town. Although trail building is very different from going for a walk with my camera, it still feels comfortable, and I’ve been enjoying the time outside with a few like-minded people.

Maybe there’s just something about being in the woods that makes me feel at ease and makes my eyes open wider. When I spend a few hours outside, beneath the trees, I tend to feel less of something and more of something else. And, that something else seems important and worth protecting. It's what I want to keep safe for of all of us.]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-15406636.xmlStillbookMon, 02 Jan 2012 15:08:51 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2012/1/2/on-new-beginnings.html134959:10678336:14409092 After the extroverted excesses that are often associated with the holiday season, the new year is a welcome change for a more introverted personality like mine. All of the big parties give way to a quieter time of recuperation. If thanksgiving is about gratitude and christmas is about generosity, then perhaps the new year is about discipline.

New year resolutions are personal and rooted in humility. When we say that we need to eat less or exercise more, we are also admitting that we have weaknesses. When we make a new year resolution, we are saying, in a very fundamental way, that we are imperfect, and we would like to become a better version of ourselves.

Perhaps deep down, we all know that if we're not growing, then we're probably withering away. Time just doesn't stop like we'd like it to, so we need to dedicate ourselves to making the most of each day.

Every January, I set a few modest goals for the year. I think about what I'd like to achieve, and then I update my monthly calendar. My goals aren't always huge, and I never forget to schedule vacations and rest days. Some years I just tell myself that I'm going to try to meet a few new people or write a few more essays. And, other years I set running or cycling goals that I can work toward. I suppose that, for me, happiness is more about accomplishing things than it is about acquiring things.

2011 was a challenging year for me. I injured my foot while running and had to learn a difficult lesson about the consequences of trying to do too much too fast. Patience has never been one of my strengths, and my injury helped me focus on improving on that weakness. I also learned not to take anything for granted. In the future, I'll simply feel grateful to run, no matter how fast or slow.

Life is truly short, and we shouldn't take it for granted. Every morning we should awake refreshed. Every new year is a gift, and every resolution a new beginning.

]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-14409092.xmlStillbookSun, 20 Nov 2011 15:27:37 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/11/20/on-focus.html134959:10678336:13795681
To live a simple and authentic life.
To share my interests in philosophy (wisdom) and photography (beauty) with the world.
To trust my intuition and encourage others to do the same.
To remain focused in order to develop my gifts fully.

The first line sets the tone. The second defines my areas of interest. The third reminds me of my relation to others. And, the fourth challenges me to work hard and stay true to myself.

These four goals are essentially a list of values, interests, gifts, and actions, and I’ve found it incredibly rewarding when I remember to make them priorities in my life. They do, however, require me to make a few sacrifices, because in order to do each of them well, I have to cut certain things out of my schedule.

For example, if I want to live a simple life, I have to remember that “less is more” and that mental, physical, and emotional clutter tends to drain my energy. I have to remember not to buy a bunch of things that I really don’t need or to become distracted by things that other people may want me to have. For me, creating and embracing a healthy sort of emptiness is important and provides me with room to grow. Without the occasional quiet Saturday or Sunday afternoon, I don’t have the time to let my mind wander, or let my eyes see the world in a different way. I don’t have time to digest my perceptions and plan my next projects. For me, simplicity is mostly about doing a few things well, instead of being a busy-body who never accomplishes anything substantial or lasting.

The second thing I have to remember is to share my deepest interests with others – which is hard for me at times. Somehow, over the years, I’ve developed a tendency to hide my favorite things from people. I think the seeds of this bad habit were planted way back in my childhood, and then reconfirmed and legitimized by a few miscommunications as an adult. It seems like I’ve always had competing voices in my head - one pushing me to open up, and the other coaxing me to keep things safely hidden away. But, thankfully, over the years, I’ve learned that risking disapproval or misinterpretation is the only way to find the best kind of friends, the kindred spirits who can relate and understand. I’ve also learned that no matter how self-reliant I have become, a sense of community is still important. And while I’ve slowly accepted that my writing isn’t really all that interesting to a lot of people, simply sharing it with a few friends can be very rewarding.

My third goal is to follow my intuition and to encourage the people around me to do the same. This is another hard one though, because usually when I follow my intuition, I have to be willing to do things that might initially seem crazy to other people. Maybe that’s why following it requires a willingness to embrace one’s eccentricities and risk being ostracized by people who are afraid to be different. It’s funny how, as social creatures, we all have a tendency to conform to the people around us. Maybe that’s why having the courage to follow our intuition may be one of our most powerful accomplishments. After all, what is more important than learning how to guide ourselves through challenges that lead us to making the big, pivotal decisions in life? Isn’t it better to be happy on our own true path than to be unhappy following the crowd?

And finally, my last goal – the title of this essay - is to stay focused and to commit to a work ethic consistent with the content of my writing. Staying focused is one of my primary goals because it’s about achievement, and it’s about remembering to address timeless, universal themes in a writing style completely my own. Sometimes I am amazed by how prolific some writers are, and I’m amazed by their ability to write so consistently and with such regularity. But, then I also remember that other writers may have different goals than I do. They may be trying to write an entertaining story that sells thousands of copies to people who are looking to escape into their imaginations while relaxing on a beach somewhere far from home. Or, they may be writing a blog or a journal about their daily thoughts and activities. Or, they may be writing for a newspaper or a magazine – discussing local happenings or political events. I wonder how many writers are trying to write about our deepest, most fundamental human values. I’m sure that there are more than a few of us, and I’m sure that many are doing it in their own unique way. But, I also know that none of them have lived my life or walked in my shoes, and that’s why my work seems worth it.

While I am thankful for the many different types of writing in the world, I think the kind I’m most interested in is the kind that embodies the goals I hold dear: the kind of expression that is simple, wise, intuitive, and focused. My mission isn’t to be the most popular writer or even the most successful in the economic sense. My mission, rather, is to simply be thoughtful and true, and perhaps in doing so, subtly encourage others to do the same.

]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-13795681.xmlStillbookFri, 03 Jun 2011 19:00:06 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/6/3/what-i-believe-part-one.html134959:10678336:11676178
I believe you can’t love other people well until you know how to love, nurture, and challenge yourself.

I believe the best way to help another person is by inspiring them with your example.

I believe it is unwise to try to help someone who hasn’t asked.

I believe that love is expressed in many ways… and it sometimes doesn’t feel like love.

I believe that some people “help” others selfishly. These are the fish givers, not the fishing teachers.

I believe that some people have learned to develop their character and drive and other people have not.

I believe that good decisions are generally rewarded and bad decisions tend to backfire.

I believe we tend to learn more from our bad decisions than our good decisions.

I believe happiness is mostly about understanding who we are and how to use our gifts.

I believe that we are all responsible to make ourselves happy.

I believe that if we are often unhappy, it is our own fault.

I believe that loss and pain and suffering are a part of life and shouldn’t be viewed as tragic.

I believe the easy road is usually the least fulfilling road.

I believe that the hard road is usually the most fulfilling road.

I believe that people who make unhealthy choices should feel pain.

I believe that people who make healthy choices should feel proud.

I believe that people who choose an unhealthy lifestyle should feel sick.

I believe that people who hurt themselves and others should be reminded what they are doing.

I believe that challenging another in a respectful way is helpful, not hurtful.

I believe that overcoming obstacles on your own builds character.

I believe tough love encourages independence and autonomy.

I believe that people are generally good.

I believe that we are all bad when we act from hurt, anger, or ignorance.

I believe that when we are angry, we don’t view the world clearly.

I believe that everything has a silver lining.

I believe that nothing is 100% good or 100% bad.

I believe that our lives will never be exactly the way we want them to be, so it’s a good idea to appreciate life today.

I believe that people who are generally happy and content know how to view their problems as opportunities.

I believe that people who are generally unhappy don’t.

I believe that as children of the earth, we should take care of it.

I believe that it is a stupid fish that pollutes its own tank.

I believe that, as adults, we should set good examples for the people around us – especially children.

I believe that offering encouragement to people who are struggling is better than trying to solve their problem for them.

I believe that by solving our own problems, we will inspire others to do the same.

I believe that trying to solve another person’s problem is being a fish giver.

I believe that if we encourage people to solve their own problems, we demonstrate our faith in their potential.

I believe that we, as adults, are responsible for ourselves.

I believe that we, as adults, are responsible to support and pay for ourselves.

I believe that people who expect other people to pay for them are ignorant or lazy.

I believe that all types of honest work are good and worthy of respect.

I believe that giving money to a beggar is unwise and encourages weakness and dependence.

I believe that building a business and hiring employees is more generous.

I believe that employees should feel grateful for the opportunity to work and support themselves with dignity.

I believe that we should search for a job where we can use our unique abilities.

I believe that money is stored energy.

I believe that money can be used in both wonderful and horrible ways.

I believe public parks are wonderful things.

I believe in the goodness of the rich property owners who donated their land to form most of them.

I believe that a walk through a park is much more enriching than a walk through a shopping mall.

I believe that shopping and acquiring “stuff” will not keep any of us satisfied for long.

I believe that happiness doesn’t come from having things.

I believe that happiness comes from using our gifts and feeling connected to friends and family.

I believe that getting along with others is sometimes hard, but it is worth it.

I believe that what we do when nobody is watching is who we really are.

I believe our actions define us.

]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-11676178.xmlStillbookFri, 03 Jun 2011 18:57:18 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/6/3/on-growth.html134959:10678336:11676154
The idealistic artist is all but gone. A few trace remnants remain, I suppose; but mostly, I’ve removed him from my psyche. No more energy spent on creative pursuits with zero practical value, and no more unrealistic expectations as to the worth of my work. I’ve finally realized that my writing and photography are worthwhile not because of where they are seen or because of who owns them, but because they were simply engaging to create. Over the course of the last few years, I’ve slowly realized that the worth of my work has more to do with the enjoyment of the process than with the reception of the end product. It sounds like a fairly simple thing to realize, and I suppose I’ve been espousing this perspective for a long time, but lately, for some reason, the sentiment seems to finally have sunk in, and it feels strangely liberating.

The late night beer drinker is gone as well, and with him the dehydrated, foggy-headed morning loafer. Although part of this is simply a function of getting older and wanting to go to bed earlier, a bigger part of this particular personal exorcism has to do with the rebirth of the competitive athlete inside of me that has been sleeping and laying dormant for the last decade. While I’ve always liked watching sports, I had forgotten how much fun it is to get back into playing them. I don’t need to compete all the time. An occasional game of basketball or round of golf is enough, and my running has become second nature. Pushing myself, sweating, feeling sore and proud has never felt better, so much better than the headaches that inevitably follow a night of loud bands and beer drinking.

It’s interesting how embracing this particular athletic rebirth has begun to affect different and seemingly unrelated parts of my personality as well. As I’ve worked to become a better runner and a healthier athlete, I’ve found myself being drawn to different people and places. And, not surprisingly, the activities of the idealistic artist and the late night drinker have completely lost their mystique. The beautiful artsy woman and the fashionable social butterfly may still turn my head, but they don’t seem to hold my attention very long anymore. Neither does the intellectual bantor with the barstool authors-in-waiting who spend more time drinking and complaining than they do reading and writing.

Perhaps I’ve simply just completed a certain chapter of life and am beginning another. And, now I’m in the process of shedding one skin and exposing the next. It’s funny… I’m about to travel up to New York, Boston, and the Berkshire Mountains in Western Massachusetts, and I have very little interest in venturing into bars and clubs, and modern art museums. Instead, I plan to visit a few churches, a few libraries and bookstores, Walden Pond, a house that Poe lived in, and a well-preserved historic Shaker community. I’m also looking forward to going for a run in Central Park and to reading a book on a bench in Boston Common. Of course, re-connecting with good friends will be great as well.

I know I’ll enjoy the drive too. I suppose I’m a sucker for a good road trip, and there’s something especially rewarding about sleeping in the back of my truck in some random campground on the way. One of the things I love about camping is waking up in the morning. There is simply nothing better than breathing in some crisp fall air, stepping out into the woods, feeling a few leaves crunch under my feet, and realizing that summer is on it’s way out.

As autumn reminds us, sometimes a little death and decay is a good thing, something to embrace and find beautiful. I think that all endings aren’t necessarily bad. They create a temporary emptiness and a time to reflect on the next chapter of life…perhaps in my case the athlete philosopher chapter.

]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-11676154.xmlStillbookFri, 03 Jun 2011 18:54:31 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/6/3/on-intuition.html134959:10678336:11676131
“You think too much.”

It’s really pretty funny. I get it all the time – usually from friends who happen to be women. After listening to me carefully and logically explain all the reasons why I probably shouldn’t date someone, they’ll say something like, “You’ll never really know until you try. You should just ask her out.”

There’s usually a pretty frustrated tone to this last part, which makes me smile again, mostly because it solidifies my hunch that the person I’m talking with still doesn’t know me very well.

I’ll think to myself…. man, if she really knew me, it would be obvious to her that I rely on my intuition constantly. And, she’d probably also understand that although I enjoy weighing the pros and cons of just about everything in life, the simple fact that I’m having an inner debate about someone is a good indication that I’m only trying to justify my intuitive feeling that something just doesn’t feel right.

If my head is working over time, it just means that my heart isn’t convinced.

If I look back on most all of the important decisions I’ve made in my life, I think that it is safe to say that I’ve followed my intuition in every instance. And, believe it or not, almost none of those decisions seemed logical at the time. Although they now seem to make perfect sense, back then, they seemed risky and illogical, and they surprised more than a few people in the process.

That’s not to say that I made all of those decisions quickly, however. And, maybe this is the reason why I’m writing this essay.

I think that intuition is a tricky thing. Sometimes, it comes quickly and other times, it hangs around for a while and has to whisper to us quietly and consistently, until we’re finally able to hear it.

From my experience, intuition works slowly when we’re on the wrong path and quickly when we’re on the right one. It usually irritates us when we’re doing something we shouldn’t, and then when we’ve found something really good, it hits us over the head. When we finally listen to it, we experience a kind of inner wholeness – a feeling that we have found where we need to be.

I think following our intuition isn’t always easy though. Since it often leads us to illogical people and places, I think it’s sometimes hard to justify to others. And, if we’ve internalized the expectations of the world around us, then sometimes, we can wrestle with ourselves, trying to avoid what could be a good thing for us.

One of my favorite writers, Joseph Campbell, calls this “the refusal of the call,” and believe it or not, he says that the world is filled with people who have betrayed their intuition. Out of fear and out of uncertainty, they have chosen the wrong path, the safe path, and the path that is not in alignment with their deepest potential.

It’s funny. When I look back on all of the decisions that I’m most proud of, I remember being both afraid and excited. Of course, not everything I’ve tried has worked out, but everything I’ve tried has been incredibly worthwhile, since it taught me a valuable lesson and added a dimension of adventure to my life.

Maybe this is the greatest gift of following our intuition. When we do… life really does become an adventure. It’s exciting. It’s scary. It’s rewarding. When we start following our best path, there are fewer things to complain about and more things to look forward to.

Joseph Campbell also wrote that “what you don’t experience positively, you will experience negatively.” And, by this he means that when we don’t follow what keeps calling to us, we get bored, restless, and irritable. And, when we start following our hunches, as strange as they may seem, then life starts feeling different and more colorful.

In the end, I think it’s pretty safe to say that those of us who listen to our deepest selves will live full and rich lives, and those of us who don’t will certainly die feeling like we missed out on something.

Have you ever noticed how some old people remain filled with life and exude gratitude, peace, and calm? While other old folks are bitter, helpless, and scared of dying? It seems pretty obvious to me which ones followed their intuition and which ones didn’t. In fact, it seems pretty obvious to me which friends of mine are on the right path and which ones are struggling down the wrong one.

If you are unsure which path you are on, after reading this, then you may need to take some time to pause and reflect on your present course. Don’t listen to what anyone else says. Just go for a walk in the woods and let your mind wander. Or invite someone you respect out for a coffee. Or talk to a friend who seems to be living a full and rich life. Nothing will magically happen overnight, but in time, your next step will be a healthy one. Trust me. You’ll know. You’ll feel it in your gut.

]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-11676131.xmlStillbookFri, 03 Jun 2011 18:46:17 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/6/3/on-balance.html134959:10678336:11676049
My life didn’t stay that way for long, however. When my Mom eventually had my little sister, I started to be drawn towards the activities of my Dad and my older brothers. As I attempted to keep up with them and assert myself in school, I learned to be a lot more competitive. In time, I won more than a few playground fights and turned into a pretty good athlete. When I played little league baseball, I became an all-star. In junior high, I placed second in the state wrestling tournament. And in high school, I played on the varsity golf team.

But, for some reason, as time went by and I went off to college, I started to get back into the arts. I signed up to be a DJ at the campus radio station, and I started hanging around the intellectuals and the activists. To my Dad’s horror, I ended up majoring in Philosophy; and when I eventually moved to Greensboro to get an MFA in printmaking and sculpture, I had essentially turned my back completely away from the more athletic side of my personality - the part of me that I had successfully developed as a teenager.

Which brings me to the reason why the past couple of years have felt so good. Recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that living a good life is all about balance.

I think that for whatever reason, over the years, I’ve always thought that most things were either/or propositions. I’ve felt like I had to choose between being an athlete or being an artist. If I wanted to be a good athlete, then I had to set aside the creative and compassionate part of myself. And, if I wanted to be a serious artist, then I had to set aside the athletic competitive part. Consequently, due to my own limited internal dialogue, I’ve felt divided, anxious, and incomplete.

I’ve learned lately however, that if you manage your time well, you really can have it all. And, even more importantly, not only can you have it all, but when you embrace all aspects of your personality, no matter how different or opposite they may seem on the surface, it’s highly likely that each aspect will actually feed the other.

For example… as I’ve been spending a lot of time running and lifting weights these last couple of years, I think I’ve also been thinking more clearly. And, consequently, my writing and photography have improved. In fact, I think that most every part of my life has improved since I’ve re-embraced the more athletic side of myself.

I’ve also found that establishing a healthy balance between other aspects of my life has become important as well.

I’ve learned that sometimes it’s good to be forgiving and sometimes it’s better to just move on. Sometimes it’s good to be patient and gently encourage your friends, and sometimes, if they really need to break out of a rut, it’s good to give them a proper scolding.

It’s funny how a single approach to everything rarely works. I always thought that becoming a better writer meant having more time to write. But, as it turns out, I’ve been learning lately that writing well is more about living a better, more enriching life.

Maybe I’ve just been learning that it’s best to be well rounded. I’ve been learning it's OK to be part serious and part sarcastic. Part generous and part selfish. Part mental and part physical. Part solitary and part social. Part independent and part dependant. Part logical and part emotional. It really is all about striking the proper balance and embracing the parts of myself that didn’t seem to be consistent before.

In the end, we all have our contradictions and that’s what makes us unique – it’s what makes us ourselves.

So with that in mind… maybe one of these days…. after I crush some amateurs during a 10k run or the next time I kick my Dad’s ass in golf, I just might go back home and watch one of my favorite French films, or maybe I’ll help my Mom bake some peanut butter cookies. I always liked using a fork to make those little lines on top.]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-11676049.xmlStillbookFri, 03 Jun 2011 18:43:04 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/6/3/on-beauty.html134959:10678336:11676037
During mile one, when I wasn’t focusing on my breathing, a few random things crossed my mind. The first was money, and I thought that maybe I could write about that. Since I often debate the importance of money in my own life, I’ve been thinking about writing an essay on that subject for a while now. (I suppose part of me wants to make more, so I can feel more free and have extra time to travel, read, and write…. and another part of me knows that money isn’t that important in the grand scheme, and even if I had more time to travel the world, I may not write more than I do now).

Anyway…. after batting that around in my head for a few minutes, I looked up at the sky and noticed how beautiful it was. I thought to myself…. wow…. it’s truly wonderful to be surrounded by such beauty every day.

And then, I started wondering about beauty. What is beauty? I started wondering what makes a sunrise beautiful? What makes a person beautiful? What makes a woman beautiful? Is it all about looks? Is beauty purely subjective? Are there absolute standards of beauty? Or, as the old adage goes… is beauty simply in the eye of the beholder?

To be honest, I’m not positive; but somewhere around mile two or three, this is what I started to think about.

And then, I started asking myself… I wonder what really makes someone beautiful? What makes a person, a woman, beautiful like a sunrise?

I guess there is no single or simple answer. But, maybe beauty has something to do with an expression of genuineness or authenticity. Maybe a woman who has taken the time to develop herself and share her unique gifts with the world will appear more beautiful than a woman who hasn’t. Maybe, like happiness, beauty is actually a side effect of something else.

If happiness, or contentment, is what we feel when we are being true to our deepest selves, then maybe looking beautiful, or handsome, is how we appear to others in the process of doing so.

It’s funny how the people who try to be beautiful rarely are beautiful on a deeper level. Sure, a striking model may catch our attention for a while, but will her beauty stand the test of time? Will she still be beautiful when we get to know her? Will all the attention to her surface appearance wash away in the shower? Make-up, botox, breast implants, and even hair-plugs for men are poor substitutes for the inner beauty that shows through our eyes when we are fully engaged in life. And, I am always saddened when I see women and men who seem to be focusing on their façade at the expense of their foundation.

To me, there’s a difference between washing your skin with soap and covering it up with thick layers of make-up. There’s a difference between exercising to be healthy and choosing to have a facelift to appear younger. There’s a difference between buying a sturdy belt that matches your shoes and purchasing an expensive Armani suit to impress your coworkers. One approach seems more about wanting to look the way you feel, and the other seems to be more about filling a void your life.

While I agree that you can’t always judge a book by its cover, I do think that how we present ourselves to the world is an expression of what is going on within us. Our health, or lack thereof, is an expression of our spirit. Our skin, our hair, our smile, and our choice of clothes speak to the world. They give our friends and neighbors hints about what we value. They provide the cover of what’s going on inside our own personal story.

Fundamentally, I think authentic beauty is about living a healthy life. I think we are all more beautiful when we take care of ourselves. And, I think that when we are doing what we love, we become attractive in ways that are simply impossible to fully understand and describe.

In the end, maybe the most beautiful people in the world aren’t trying to be beautiful at all. Like a newborn baby, they are simply too busy being themselves to notice how they appear to others.

When we see a beautiful, genuine person, there is nothing to say. We can only watch and smile.

After all, sunrises don’t go around trying to look like sunsets.

At least that’s what I was thinking as I glanced down at my running watch near the end of mile five.

]]>http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/rss-comments-entry-11676037.xmlStillbookFri, 03 Jun 2011 18:40:05 +0000http://www.stillbook.org/meditations/2011/6/3/on-belonging.html134959:10678336:11676022
Thoreau, Montaigne, the Stoics, Schopenhauer, Maslow, Jung, and Joseph Campbell are all favorites. I've read them so often, they have essentially become literary comrades... thinkers whose thoughts seem to offer all the best encouragement when I need it most. Living or dead, kindred spirits are rare things, and I've learned long ago to embrace them in whatever shape or form they exist. If I were ever stranded on a deserted island, it is highly likely that I would choose my books over the company of many people I've met over the years.

It's funny how I can feel completely at ease and comfortable while reading a favorite book and then venture out into the world, surrounded by a whole host of people, and feel utterly alone. Perhaps it's only when we are in the company of people who understand us, and share our same values, that we feel like we belong. Though it's always nice to connect with people in a day-to-day kind of way, I think some people feel more comfortable connecting with others on a deeper level.

It's amazing how exhausting life can be when we're surrounded by people who just don't get us. For a long time, I tried to always be a nice guy and to connect with everyone I met. I tried to be kind and be a good listener. But, I think I was giving away too much. I think I was setting aside my own development and strengths in order to appease the people around me. For years I did what my parents wanted, then I switched to doing what some of my closest friends or girlfriends wanted. I think that certain intense childhood experiences I had years ago shaped me in such a way that I was afraid to make other people angry. Forever trying to keep the peace can be exhausting. When you constantly live your life with other people's feelings in mind, life can become incredibly un-fulfilling. Aren't we all responsible for our own feelings? Once we become adults, can anyone make us feel anything without our consent? Perhaps we are never completely mature until we've finally accepted the truth that our feelings are our own responsibility. And other people's feelings are their own as well.

It's funny how sometimes people will distract us from who we are supposed to be. And at other times, people will help us get back on track.

I think also a certain paradox exists when it comes to getting both ourselves and our loved ones on track. I don't think it's really possible for anyone to help another until they are on track themselves, and since we're never perfectly on track, I think the most loving thing we can do for another person is to consistently and thoughtfully develop ourselves.

And when we start doing that... I think that is when the universe steps in and introduces us to the people we're supposed to meet. The people who understand. The people who might actually be able to unknowingly cure our loneliness, instead of exacerbating it.

I think we influence each other the most when we are not consciously trying to do so. I think we are being the most loving to the people around us when we are being true to ourselves. I think self-understanding and self-love are the beginnings of empathy and compassion. I think becoming someone worthy of emulation is the greatest gift of all.

People who don't understand this are simply on another path and belong to another world. I sincerely wish them well, but will do so from afar.

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