creativity

A Year of Yes: Finding peace in a time of difficulty

The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

I’ve been thinking about this poem a lot lately. I’ve been listening to the anxiety and sadness of my friends, and of the world. I’m struggling a little to find the best ways to help as many people as I can, as well as I can. And sometimes that desire to help, that feeling that I’m just not doing enough to that end, overwhelms me. So a poem like this that reminds me to find comfort in nature, seen and unseen, and always felt, helps me breathe a little easier. Once I have my breath again, I can keep going, doing as much as I can with what I have. And knowing that that is enough.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Nature therapy for writers

Sometimes as a writer, what I need is a good long walk in the sun, a nap in the grass, and sniff of some beautiful pink flowers on a tree. Life in New York City can be challenging on many levels and yet I wouldn’t live anywhere else. The beauty and wildlife of Central Park is a sanctuary for me. I come here every day with my dog, Phineas. In all seasons, in all weather. This park makes New York more than a city. It makes it a home. And I’m so grateful for it and the many people who care for it in so many ways.

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creativity

A Year of Yes: How my childhood in the dirt formed my view of the world

I once read that if we really want to find our purpose, we should think about what we loved to do when we were 8 years old. I’ve been thinking a lot about 8-year-old me lately, and sifting through the writing I’ve done about my childhood. I came across this piece that I wrote 5 years ago. And it floors me that it still rings so true that I might as well have written it yesterday.

“I grew up in the dirt, literally. There was (and still is) a tractor crossing sign across the street from the house where I grew up. My rural hometown fostered a childhood that involved climbing trees and making mud pies. When I was little, I was convinced that there was a dinosaur skeleton hiding under the ground in my backyard. I enlisted my sister, Weez, to help me dig and dig and dig. All we found was a small mouse skeleton, but I thought it was clearly a prehistoric mouse! Other kids wanted to be doctors, firefighters, or teachers. I wanted to be a paleontologist. I still do.

My childhood was far from idyllic, but there were some very positive things about growing up in the sticks. I got my hands dirty in the process of making things. I ate organic food because that’s really all there was, not because it was trendy. Animals were my friends and companions, as much as people. Maybe even more than people. I learned to appreciate the Earth, her majesty and her power. Weather was a way of life, and I still watch it with fascination and wonder.

An article in the New York Times last weekend talked about a movement in this fine and fair city I now call home to bring more nature into the lives of city kids not by taking them out of the city, but by bringing nature to them. Brooklyn Forest, a husband and wife startup, “takes toddlers into Prospect Park to promote learning through creative play like building teepees out of branches.” 7 students were in their first class. Now there are over 200. More people are eager to get into mud these days; I was a pioneer.

There’s something to be said for the slow life, the life we build rather than the life we buy shrink-wrapped and delivered right to our doorstep. Creation builds confidence and bolsters the imagination. It makes us self-sufficient. I’m all for it, for our children and for us. There’s a lot of beauty down there in the mud.”

creativity

A Year of Yes: Supporting Central Park

Central Park after this week's storm.
Central Park after this week’s storm. Photo by me!

Central Park staff were out early this week cleaning up the park after the storm. Phineas and I spend a lot of time in this park, and we really appreciate everything that the staff does to keep this park the jewel of the city that it is. To thank and support them, I became a member. They are a big part of making this city such a wonderful place to call home.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Finally getting to the Galápagos Islands

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Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

My Year of Yes in 2018 is translating into lifelong travel dreams come true. Looks like I’m destined to visit the Galápagos Islands in the Fall. Ideas, suggestions, recommendations for my itinerary? Don’t be shy! Come at me!

creativity

A Year of Yes: The right circumstances for your dreams – a lesson from the Rose of Jericho

A friend of was recently telling me that the time for his dream had passed. He’d missed his opportunity to do what he really wanted to do with his life. I told him about the Rose of Jericho, and what it can teach us about our lives through the process of biomimicry. I recently learned about this plant as I was doing research for Emerson’s second book. The plant hibernates, sometimes for years, when conditions are unfavorable. When drought passes and it has enough water again, it springs back to life. Our dreams are the same way. Sometimes what we want just doesn’t work out when we want it to, in the way that we want it to. The world is a generous place. When we keep a dream alive in our minds and in our hearts, we will get many chances to turn it into a reality. It’s only a matter of making sure that we recognize when that opportunity is in front of us, and that we do the best we can with what we’ve got when our opportunity comes around again.

creativity

In the pause: The beauty of winter

“Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.” ~Pietro Aretino

All light is born from the darkness. What if we could think of the start of winter as the beginning of everything? A time of planting and incubation that leads to future growth. While the cold and wind may drive us inside, let’s see it as a time of rest and recuperation. The starkness of nature now has its own kind of beauty. We can see the bones of the trees and the shape of the land. Everything will be dressed up in green again before we know it. Let’s make the most of this time we have now to build a strong base that the rest of the year will make use of.

creativity

In the pause: The book Wishtree by Katherine Applegate is what we all need to read right now

unnamedA story of acceptance and community told from the perspective of a wise 216-year-old northern red oak tree named Red, I read the book Wishtree in one delicious (or is it deciduous) sitting. I laughed, I cried, and I was happy / sad when it was over. This is the book the world needs now more than ever. Pun-filled tree humor provides the laughter than opens the way to understanding that diversity is the key to a healthy, thriving society. Nature knows that. Nature has always known that. And it’s time for us to embrace it, too.

A new Muslim family moves into the neighborhood and faces the ugliest side of human nature. The power of friendship, bravery, and history are woven together in this tale, part magic, part science, and all love. In Applegate’s own words, there is a special kind of power in being able to stand tall and reach deep in all circumstances. Leave it to children’s literature to teach us (adults and children alike) to be the very best people we can be.

creativity

In the pause: Dale Chihuly at the New York Botanical Garden

Couldn’t have asked for a better Saturday! I spent it at the New York Botanical Garden with one of my best friends, and it was delightful. I highly recommend a visit. Stop into the Hudson Garden Grill for a wonderful lunch—it was a perfect way to start the afternoon. The Chihuly glass installation is an incredible addition to these stunning grounds and will be on display until October 29th. Relax and renew your spirit with sights like these:

 

creativity

In the pause: You already believe in miracles

“We live on a blue planet that circles around a ball of fire next to a moon that moves the sea, and you don’t believe in miracles?” ~Anonymous

You already believe in the miracle that is this planet so why not believe in the miracle that is you? Your strength and ability to rise is infinite. Don’t shrink. Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t let anyone or anything steal your light. Glow, and spread it around.