Awe and Wonder

“He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.”- Albert Einstein

This past weekend I went to an Awe & Wonder Retreat, 3 days 2 nights retreat to Esalen, led by Dacher Keltner.  I didn’t know what I was getting into when I signed up, I simply wanted to go to Esalen.  Every retreat listed seemed to be filled with inspiration, as Esalen’s focus has been on the intersection on philosophy, spirituality, and psychology.  My friend Gretchen told me the other day that one of her life goals is to go to Esalen, and that there are two things that stir her with passion and excitement in this world: love and the programs at Esalen.  I could not agree more.  Yet, I chose the right program to attend, it was exactly what my soul needed at this moment in time. 

Dacher shared the 8 aspects of wonder which include: Mystical Experience/Spirituality, Moral Beauty (Kindness and Courage we witness in others), Visual Design, Music, Collective Effervescence (what we experience in concerts or sporting events), Life and Death, Nature, Big Ideas. Through focusing on awe and wonder several times a week, we can decrease loneliness, depression, and increase a sense of gratitude.  Although Dacher is a social psychologist, that has studied happiness, has consulted with Pixar for the films Inside Out and Soul, and helped create the emojis for Facebook, he recently pivoted his work toward the concepts of Awe and Wonder. He chose to do this after his brother Rolf died of colon cancer.  There was so much grief there as he reflected the totality of the experiences around the world together over decades, but also with this was a sense of awe for the life cycle.  He knew he could emerge from this grief from studying and focusing on awe. 

Throughout the workshop we learned about the research of Awe and Wonder, completed experiential exercises collectively or in small groups, and processed what was arising internally through reflective writing exercises and contemplation.  The group that consisted of 33 people of all different ages cried together, smiled, laughed, and shared about experiences of bliss, wonder, and grief.  The concept of awe and wonder seemed so simple, this is something we used to relish in as children, and at times when we are mindful.  Yet it is so poignant.  Over the past fifteen years, I have a daily practice of gratitude, but I admit at times it can get stale.  Adding one reflection of what brought me wonder could enrich this each night.  I realize that my Instagram posts (amodernpilgrimage) is to pivot and remind others of the sacred places in the world, sacred moments, and the sacredness in oneself also point to the sense of awe and wonder.

On the 6 ½ hour drive up to Esalen, we listened to the entire soundtrack of Hamilton.  My friend had never heard of it, and has not been exposed to many musicals in her life.  As I drove up the 101 North, I cried at parts of the songs that always seem to touch me.  That musicals seems to express the vastness of emotions we have and the rawness of the human experience.  This is why I love this creation so much, and I realized it was a wonderful introduction to the Awe and Wonder weekend.  Oftentimes, when I am so moved by something, whether this is a piece of art, writing, song, interaction with a stranger, or a beautiful landscape I want to share this.  I yearn for this peak emotion of Awe, which is easily accessible to us. 

For the research of the book, the following question was asked to thousands of people from nearly 30 countries :

What is an experience of awe that you have had, when you encountered a vast mystery that transcends your understanding of the world?

From this, the 8 wonders of life were created.  And so I encourage you today to reflect on this question, share this question with a friend, acquaintance or even a stranger.  Let it land on you and allow yourself to linger on the beauty of reflection and conversation.

Boredom Breeds Creativity

The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.-Ellen Parr, graphic designer

Things haven’t worked out as planned.  This was a three day weekend that we had planned for my friends to come over and have a vision board party.  We set the date on the calendar for weeks, I cleaned the house, ordered a pull out couch to be delivered on time, made gluten free brownies, and bought the right kind of alternative milk and gluten free bread for our weekend breakfasts.   Yet things didn’t work out, as a friend’s boyfriend got Covid and she then proceeded to get sick. As precaution, she didn’t come and due to rain warnings with potential mudslide warnings the other friends didn’t come as well.  This is post pandemic life.   I admit, initially I was highly frustrated.  Now that I have a fully time job, these holiday weekends are sparse, and I planned each with intention and purpose.  But things don’t always go as we plan. Automatically, I had the urge to come up with backup plans, which included trying to  attend a sound healing in Santa Barbara that would be held in a salt cave.  I called the healing center, but it was sold out.  I could go on a whale watching tour alone, but was weary with the high waves and potential storm brewing. 

I was fearing frustration and boredom.  I wanted to feel I did something for the weekend, that it meant something and it was worthy of a day off.   I was doomed to spend several days at home, with no friends, no dates, no plans.  And therefore, I was bored. 

Yes, I know this sounds totally dramatic.

I recognized in that moment I had options on what to do or how to think.  I could get angry and ruminate on the idea that I can never count on others for plans and view all Californians as flakes, including my friends.  I could go to LA and find something to do, dependent on my brother’s plans. I could binge on Netflix shows.  Take extended naps.  Shop (although I was not buying any clothing or shoes this year).  Explore nature.  Engage in creative activities. 

And in the multitude of thoughts arising, I could reframe it all and view this as a gift.  I had my weekends planned out for the next several weeks, including a pending trip to Seattle next weekend.  This cancellation of plans doesn’t have to equate with stress and frustration.   It could be a blessing, an opportunity for time affluence and abundance.

So my weekend consisted of a variety of these things.  Preparing my tax documents for my accountant, catching up with friends on the phone, making new ethnic dishes, taking walks on the beach, preparing for my bellydance classes that I will be teaching soon, reading, watching a Netflix movie in entirety in one sitting (generally this takes several days or one week for me to complete a film), and a little blogging. In addition, I was able to do some crafts with material I gathered from the beach.

In the past I wanted my weekends to be “fun” and worthy of catch up stories to my friends and co-workers.  But there is value in life being enriched with doing nothing.  With crating crafts or simply engaging in your favorite hobbies, or even resting.  There is no prize for who has the most unique plans or most busy weekend.  There’s joy in simple satisfaction and contentment, even if it involves simply going to the local beach with my 15 year old dog to walk barefoot in the sand and watch the waves and the local surfers. 

As John Lennon  once said, “life is what happens when you are busy making plans.”

C’est la vie, this is life.

Life School

The past several months I have debated getting another degree.  Although I already received my doctorate nearly 20 years ago in clinical psychology, I have always been engaged in ongoing education in some capacity.  I was exploring getting an additional degree in Mythology, and preparing my life to be inclusive of this.  This was until I realized the costs of tuition.  I had believed the annual cost would be $10,000.  This was reasonable and achievable, but I realized I was wrong.  That is the cost per quarter, not year.  I had wrongfully calculated this, and it would be $34,000 per year for four years.  At this juncture in life, I realize that I value my financial freedom more than this program.  

I began exploring, what if I could create my own type of mythology program.  In this, I would still take classes in the realm of Carl Jung and Depth Psychology, but also begin reading other books that had to do with goddesses, the Dark Sacred Feminine, and world religions.   In my journal last night, I brainstormed a list of individuals I would want to learn from, some of whom I had already met int the past.  This list is below.

As I began, going to some of their individual websites, I stumbled upon some live events I could attend, or at the bare minimum live webinars.  Yet, I came upon googling Sally Kempton, renowned teacher of Hindu philosophy particularly goddesses.  I discovered something horrible.  She died two months ago! She was 80 years old.  And this is a regret I have, I never studied with her when I got the chance.  I was lucky to meet and see Louise Hay, Debbie Ford, and Wayne Dyer before they died.  But Sally Kempton, I put off, then the pandemic put on hold all live events for an extend period.  And it never happened.  After I saw that this morning, I am vowing to not let that happen again.  

And therefore, I may not be attending graduate school again, but I am vowing to enter the School of Life.  I am making a commitment to study and meet experts in the fields that I am fascinated in, before it’s too late.   This could be in the realm of psychology, spirituality, anthropology, mythology, goddess philosophy, or anything that I fancy at the moment. I will follow my curiosity and see where it leads me in this school of life.  It may not lead to a terminal degree, but it will lead to a fuller life. 

Dying For Sex

“You needn’t die happy when your time comes, but you must die satisfied, for you have lived your life from the beginning to the end.”-Stephen King

Recently I binged on a six episode podcast in a span of 24 hours.  It was beautiful, poignant, and emotional, and I had to share this.  The series is called Dying for Sex.  It’s a conversation between two best friends, where one particular friend has stage 4 cancer, divorces her husband, and explores her sexuality with the time she has left.  It contains such beauty, humor, rawness, vulnerability, and inspiration.  It serves as reminder for one to think of how do you want to live your life, knowing that you will die. 

       How often do we forget that we are going to die?  That is the only certainty we have.  I’m not trying to be morbid or focus solely on the negative here, but it is true.  Yet, when we know this and can hold this in our hands, it reminds us of the preciousness of our lives.

       This is a foundational principle in Buddhism.  In fact in Bhutan, people remind themselves five times a day they are going to die to bring about their happiness.  If you have problems doing this, you can buy an app called “We Croak,” which will remind you.  I purchased this years ago, and try to remind myself how precious life is frequently.  

       When you know death is imminent, you cut out the crap, and live a life aligned to what is most important to you.  But the truth is none of us know when our time is.  What are we waiting for?  What do you need to do to live in alignment with your values?  What is on your bucket list? 

More info on the podcast : https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/dying-for-sex/id1495392900

There’s no rushing in parks

            Earlier in the week, I had a pending zoom call at 12:00 on a Saturday.  It was after 10:00 am, and I thought I could squeeze in a good ninety minutes at the park.  We generally had the luxury of two hours, so ninety minutes felt tight.  Yet, I was determined to do this.  I would rush to the park, find our spot and blanket in the sun, restore, then zip back for the call.  But how we plan things does not always equate with what arises. This is particularly the case when you have a 15 year old British bulldog in a stroller and a 13 year old pug/chiauaua mix who walks at a different speed.

            As we began our walk to the park, the sidewalks were crowded, as it was the weekend.  We passed a cheerful homeless guy, who I see daily and always wants to greet my chug.  But so many people were around, and I couldn’t seem to back track to return to him for his daily pet.  I mouthed “later.”  Shortly after, an elderly female who also was a dog owner stopped to talk to us at the light in French.  I tried to answer in French, “il est vient, il est quinze ans.”  He is old, he is 15 years old.” She spoke in English.  I wanted to try to cross the sidewalk while it was green, but Puzo began to stand up in his stroller.  I pushed him back down.  The lady then proceeded to carry her dog up to Puzo height and practically in his stroller to smell him.  I was not going to make the light, it seemed like a comedic scene from a sitcom.  I was in a rush, and the world was not letting me go at that fast pace.  I then stepped in a puddle on the street from the street cleaning. 

            We eventually made it to the park, found our spot in the sun and sat.  As I looked at the Eiffel Tower, I realized I was living the life I had planned for one year earlier.  I was in France, all this work to get to here and I have arrived.  My dog park was the Champ de Mars, but was I really present?  Was I living here truly?  Time passed, as numerous dogs and their owners came over to sniff my dogs.  

            As we walked home, I seemed to time it perfectly.  I didn’t factor in these triplet five-year old French girls who wanted to pet my dogs.  One girl tried to take the leash out of my hand, asking in French to walk my dog?  I didn’t know how to respond, until her mother came over and told her no.  The girl removed her hands from Bella’s leash.  They individually wanted to pet both Puzo and Bella.  I realized all of my interactions today were friendly and kind, but my sense of being in a rush could ruin this experience.  

            This was such a metaphor for my life here in Paris.  I came here to write my book, but I have yet to be signed by publishers.  My agent is encouraging me to pause until I am signed.  I must be patient with this process of a book being developed.  Originally, I wanted to be in Paris for one year, in and out with a book completed.  But this year is not looking like that. It’s delayed. I’m learning to slow down, and luxuriate in pleasures.  Learn to appreciate my time here guilt free. Somehow this is tough for me to do. To unlearn. 

            But if I am honest with myself, another reason I came here was to ease the transition with my dogs.  They are older and Puzo would not make it back to fly to America.  Our move from the UK to France, was smoother via car rather than plane.  I’m able to spend more time with them, without the confines of a commute or regular job.  Our pied-a-terre has turned into an elderly dog nursing home, and I have transitioned from being a psychologist to one who is a caregiver for my dogs.  The frequent accidents that occur in the home, the slow strolls, and the somatization of physical issues when I travel are all a reminder for me to live in patience.  I have to remind myself that my life right now is a living breathing loving kindness patience meditation.  This is where we are at, and what is required of me at the moment is unconditional love and care. 

            Perhaps this is what I am meant to learn here in Paris.  To slow down, practice patience, and pleasure.  I am to learn what it truly means to be present in my day to day life, not just as a mental construct.  Let go of what is next, because the reality is I do not know what that entails.    

“If when you look at me, you only see a white face and cloudy eyes, a burden or a hassle…you’ve missed out on the best part of me…Love me until the very end, for I am a gift. With each wag of my tail, I say thank you.”– Bacardi Reynolds

Puzo’s New Lease on Life

            Recently Puzo had a near death experience.  Or at least so I thought.  Puzo is my English Bulldog who was extremely sick days before his 15th birthday.  I had gone away to Majorca for 6 days, and he developed diarrehea when I left.  When I returned, his illness would not stop.  He would not eat, and everything was coming out of him.  Pure incontinence.  I was preparing for the worst with each day.  Would I have to put him to sleep the next week?  With each area I cleaned up, I reminded myself this was a meditation.  All my love for him.  I distracted myself by binging on the Netflix’s reality show Love is Blind, just to not have to think of the horror awaiting me.  

Luckily I was able to secure medication for him prior to his vet appointment, and we celebrated his birthday in pure doggie style, with rotisserie chicken.  The day after his birthday, we even made it to the Champ de Mars with his stroller, as his incontinence stopped.  The vet confirmed his prognosis.  Nothing was wrong with him, he’s just old.  I made the realization, that when I go on holiday, his anxiety exacerbates and he somaticizes his stress.  The other two times earlier in the year, something similar happened and he acted out.  We picked up anxiety meds for my next vacation.

             Since his illness has worked through his system, he seems to have a new lease on life.  He’s been given another chance, not even a second chance.  At this point, it’s easily his fourth or fifth chance on life.  He seems to be appreciating life more.  I know I am anthropomorphisizing him a bit, yet I can’t help and notice shifts in his behavior.  He is waking up earlier in the morning, as soon as the sun rises.  He is wanting to take in more of the day.  He soaks in all of the rays when we go to the Eiffel Tower, and sit on blanket in the grass. I swear this Parisian monument and park inspires him.  People wait their whole lives to visit here, and this is the park we go to several times a week.  Puzo tries to get out of his stroller as we near the park or when we leave, his excitement on his wrinkled face shows.  He wants to prove he can walk further than I let him.  Even on our tiny promenades in our tiny passage, he is walking more with ease and down the hallway.  I am witnessing his exploratory nature increase, he is showing me he is not ready to give up.  He loves his wanderlust life too much.  A dog who my mom purchased for me when I was in my 20s from Amish country to Ohio.  He’s jetsetted with me to New York City, California, Hawaii, back to California, the United Kingdom and now Paris.  He has a new perspective on life, and so do I .  

“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring—it was peace.” – Milan Kundera

What are you waiting for?

            Yesterday I wore a dress for no particular reason for the first time.  There was nothing special about the day, an impromptu market stroll, lunch, and beach time.  But I decided since I’m on holiday, why not?  I had brought the dress with me, what was I waiting for?  So often with “premiering an outfit,” (as my friend Erica says), I feel it must be for a particular occasion.  But why?  If this is the case, I may be waiting for a day that never arrives.

            Last year, I had gone shopping at a vintage shop in Bury St. Edmunds, and debated to by a fascinator for my hair.  I didn’t think I had a fancy event to wear this to, and said it aloud to a friend.  The store worker said, “every day can be special or fancy.”  Her words of encouragement stayed with me.  I bought the hair piece.  She was a great sales lady, but also spoke poignant words.  I need to remind myself this.  It’s like when people are deliberate of what dishes to use for guests or themselves.  They wait to put out only the good silverware or expensive plates for guests.  Aren’t we enough to celebrate? 

This may seem trivial to think of our precious belongings we own, and our desire to savor them for the right moments.  But expand your view of what this is representative of.  The time is now.  Life is short and if we take this mentality, there is value and worth in every moment.  It doesn’t have to be captured on film or be filled with other people wearing expensive attire to count.  Our life is full of moments available for us to participate and luxuriate in.

 “One can make a day of any size and regulate the rising and setting of his own sun and the brightness of its shining.”

– John Muir.

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