The "Where Will Your Spirit Walk?" Koan

One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering -- Jane Austen, novelist (1775-1817) 

Some of the most painful days of my life were spent at the ocean or in my own home, including my childhood home as well as the place Richard and I lived for about five months after his return from Vietnam, and other places that I called home, the last of which is this place I have called home since October of 1984.  

Jane Austen's quote opened up something in me -- the realization that even when my perception was that I was experiencing nothing but suffering, it was in contrast to having previously experienced transcendent joy. 

Richard has never been far from my thoughts since we met as 17 year olds.  If we had had a traditional marriage and a long life together, today would have been our 44th anniversary.  

In this moment, though, I can feel something shifting in connection with the suffering I experienced in relationship to him.  The suffering is in the past. There is an unexpected opening for joy in its place in the present, born of that timeless transcendent joy I experienced so long ago when I first met Richard.    

My experience is that one does not love a person the less for having suffered in connection with that person's alcoholism, drug addiction, or mental illness. 

All suffering, nothing but suffering.  All joy, nothing but joy.  I can remember experiencing moments of both with Richard.  Without our joy, our suffering would have had no context. Without our suffering, our joy would have had no context.

In recent years, I have met others who have suffered in ways I can't even imagine, and yet they speak of the joy in their lives as well as the suffering.

The film clip ends in the place in my living room where I practice the asanas.  For me, yoga is where joy and suffering meet in a place of love. 

Did you hear birds outside, Oboe's voice, the sound of the electric fan in the kitchen, and the sound of the clock ticking?  It wasn't until the third time I watched the clip, that saw I Oboe!

Now I am reminded of an old post of mine, "Like a rolling koan," and William Blake came to mind:

"Man was made for joy and woe

Then when this we rightly know

Through the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine

A clothing for the soul to bind."

(William Blake)

and this, which was playing on the radio in my VW in July of 1968:

We were married on a Tuesday afternoon, a few minutes walk from this section of Miramar Beach, California.  Half of Richard's ashes were scattered by his brother not far from this place where we met as 17 year olds:

Photo credit:  Ana Preza

As Leonard Cohen observed, many loved before us.  Many will love after us.  Love is a story that keeps unfolding through the generations.

For my 63rd birthday in October, I'm looking into a visit at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, the place where Georgia O'Keeffe first stayed for a month in 1934 when she was 47 years old.  She moved to New Mexico when she was 62 years old.  That was in 1949, the year I was born.  She lived in New Mexico for 37 years until her death at 98 years old.

Georgia O'Keeffe said, "When I think of death, I only regret that I will not be able to see this beautiful country anymore ... unless the Indians are right and my spirit will walk here after I'm gone."

Where will your spirit walk?

"... what is your Original Face?" (Eno, Sixth Patriarch of Zen)

(Today I can't seem to figure out how to get the fonts and font sizes to match.  Perseverance furthers.)

Code is the Farewell Bride's Bible (1984-1989?)

As I uploaded this painting today, it seemed to be out of the chronological order I thought was accurate. It was in the fall of 1984 that I began to live alone, so it seemed likely that this was painted in the summer of 1984. 

As I looked closely at the painting, I saw elements of a later style and began to remember that this is another painting that had been put aside as a "failed effort" and then brought out again and finished by adding a border and words. 

In the months before I began to learn to live alone, I had a dream. A few times in my life I have had dreams where I hear words which are more memorable than the visual part of the dream. In one such dream, I heard someone say, "Pelicans are the guardians of the world." 

In the summer of 1984, before I had made a clear decision to live alone, I heard in a dream, "Code is the farewell bride's bible." As I recall, there was vague imagery that went along with the words, and that was what I tried to paint in 1984. What seemed most important, though, were the words in the dream. In the summer of 1984, I was not ready to deal with the implication of the words. 

Looking again at this image, I notice the "oooo" marks at the top of the painting. What I remember about those marks is that they came from a book by Alice Walker, possibly THE TEMPLE OF MY FAMILIAR, published in 1989. My recollection is that they were another way of writing the word "love." I just looked through my copy of THE TEMPLE OF MY FAMILIAR and can't find the passage. Typing "oooo" and "Alice Walker" and "love" in Google in various ways didn't get me anywhere either. Now I believe that it is possible that this painting was finished in 1989 or later. Who knows? 

While looking for "oooo," I came across this passage from THE TEMPLE OF MY FAMILIAR: "You don't know, or maybe you do," said Mr. Hal, a look of deep satisfaction with the coffee and with his thoughts on his face, "how wonderful a feeling it give you when you know somebody love you and that's just the way it is. You can be good, you can be a devil, and still that somebody love you. You can be weak, you can be strong. You can know a heap or nearly nothing. That kind of love, when you think about it, just seems like some kind of puzzle, and you can spend a lifetime trying to figure it out. If you puffed up with vanity, you can't help but think what they love is something you created yourself. Or maybe it's your money or your car. But there's something . . . . It's like how you love a certain place. You just do, that's all. And if you're lucky, while you're on this earth, you get to visit it. and the place "knows" about your love, you feel. That was the love and still is the love between Lissie and me." 

That was the love I was talking about in code.