Rescued volunteer

Rescued volunteer, Amherst, NH, September 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/40 sec @ f7.9, ISO 64, with flash © Steven Crisp

This is what is known as a "volunteer" from the bird feeder. A sunflower seed, meant as food for our feathered friends, falls instead to the lawn below. And then against almost all odds -- not to mention the lawn mower -- just happens to get enough water, enough, shall we say, bird fertilizer, and stays close enough to the bird feeder pole such that it can mature and grow.

When it came time for some landscaping this year, we had to move the bird feeders, which would of course mean the death of our little volunteer, but for some reason I potted him up, and placed him against our house, in the one spot that wasn't being excavated or bull-dozed.

So what does it mean? What is the significance of this one "volunteer" being rescued (there were others that weren't) for the season? Only this. It was by no "action" on its part, no special drive or purpose, no unique will to survive that this happened. Rather, this sunflower seed was just "being", not "doing" and "trying" or "worrying" or "hoping"; just being its inherent sunflower-nature.

So what then is its purpose? What is the significance of this rescue? Only this. By it just "being" we have this beautiful sunflower photo that can be admired. Indeed, that is the essence of it. Everything just "is" and if we are quiet and present, we can see the beauty in it.

Some have called this beauty by other names: "perfection", "Divine Plan", "Grace", etc. But these are just words and concepts, typically mis-construed, to try to describe the inherent beauty found through acceptance. Accept that "it is what it is" and open your eyes to the beauty all around you, every day, wherever you are.

Happy New Year, friends.

Winter sky

Winter sky, Amherst, NH, December 2005, Sony DSC-T7, Exposure 1/50 sec @ f3.5, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp

Just goes to show that you should always carry your camera with you. Here I was snowblowing my driveway, trying to get done before I lost all daylight. But the storm which had dumped more than a foot of snow, at times under near blizzard conditions, had blown away as fast as it had blown in. Leaving only a few wispy clouds remaining as the sun was setting. And yielding this winter postcard.

Happy Holidays to all.

Buddha on the boat

Buddha on the boat, Chiang Saen, Thailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f5.6, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp

It is hard to get an appreciation for the scale of this Buddha. (His right hand is probably about as big as a person.) I actually scanned the collective consciousness (er, Google), for some facts, but couldn't find anything on it, I think because it is brand new. It was a very impressive sight to see.

Holiday Greetings

2005 Crisp Holiday Photos © Steven Crisp
Please click on the montage to see the larger version

Well would you look at that. Next year, I guess I'll move the holiday newsletter and photos right on to the blog. Seems to work like a charm. Isn't technology wonderful?

Eye to eye

Eye to eye, Elephant camp, Anantara resort, Chian Saen, Thailand, November 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/400 sec @ f4.4, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp

These are magnificent creatures. And you can definitely see their intelligence and their personality, by watching their eyes. Their skin was not at all as I expected -- much softer, but interspersed with random hairs everywhere. Elephants have about the same lifespan as humans; this one is about 65 years old, if I remember correctly. The elephants in this camp have been trained to understand about 40 words -- commands for movement, getting up, sitting down, even blowing water out of their trunk. It was great fun to work with them. I will report more on my experiences in a few days on my Just Un-Do It blog.

The stealth present

Alli's quilt present, Amherst, NH, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 42/2521 sec @ f2.8, ISO 71, with flash © Steven Crisp

This year we all had our lists, and we all got what we wanted (and expected). But Allison had something special planned for Carol. With much stealthiness and subterfuge, she worked at our neighbor's house under false pretenses, and having never sewn before, made this wonderful quilt for her Mom. It is spectacular, and it was a special treat for the master quilter. As Alli said on her card: "Like mother, like daughter."

The Crisp Family Xmas

2005 Crisp Family Xmas, Amherst, NH, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 42/2521 sec @ f2.8, ISO 51, with flash © Steven Crisp

The presents unwrapped, some eggnog consumed, dinner with family and friends, and much gratitude for a Merry Xmas and wonderful year.

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve, Crisp residence, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 3253/2948 sec @ f2.6, ISO 50, with flash © Steven Crisp

Well, the presents are finally under the tree (Santa comes early to the Crisp house). And now we wait to rip off the paper with which we just wrapped them. Such is the ebb and flow of life. Essential then to enjoy the journey, since you have already seen the destination. That is where you came from.

So relish the wrapping, and savor the unwrapping. Enjoy the selecting, and rejoice in the giving. And should the harried pace become a problem, just reflect that there is only one thing to be done now, and I hope that you enjoy it. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

The addiction

The Addiction, Gourmet Mints, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 42/2521 sec @ f5.6, ISO 51, with flash © Steven Crisp

Becha can't eat just one. At least I know I can't. Have you ever had these things -- called gourmet mints. A little bigger than an M+M, chocolate center with a thin mint coating, and a hard candy shell. This is the devil's food ;-)

Addiction is an interesting phenomenon. Obviously both a psychological and physiological component. And to imagine that I get physical cravings for this garbage (nutritionally speaking) is amazing; for some reason my body is trying to trick me into eating more unhealthy stuff. Why does it do that? It's not in its long term interest, I can assure you. I can only imagine what smokers and drug users go through when they need their "fix".

So I've decided to go cold turkey. This is the closest I plan to get to gourmet mints again (they are pretty, aren't they?). At least until I can figure out what will enable me to conquer their addicting quality. Sounds like something worth meditating on. Any suggestions?

A beautiful accident

Bye-bye '93, St. Albans, VT, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 57/16474 sec @ f3.6, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp

It's a parent's worst nightmare. A phone call in the middle of the night to report a car accident. This photo shows the result.

So how can such a crash be beautiful? Well, in this case it was the rear-end of the car that hit the rocks, and my son Greg was not injured. Nor was anyone else involved. The only casualty was our '93 Honda (totalled), but it had lived a good and full (175K miles) life.

I picked Greg up this morning, and I was especially glad to give him a hug. We talked about existentialism all the way home. Oh, what a beautiful accident, and the ability to appreciate its beauty makes life rich indeed. Happy Holidays to all. Give your kids a big hug.

Solstice shadows

Solstice Shadows, Amherst, NH, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure 3/2143 sec @ f2.6, ISO 50, no flash © Steven Crisp

Today is the winter solstice, which in our country marks the beginning of winter (ha! - they haven't visited Amherst, NH this year). In China, it actually marks the middle of winter, which seems about right to me.

The sun is at its lowest point in the sky, hence these long shadows on the snow. And of course this is the shortest day of the year. So that means we should be heading in the direction of Spring tomorrow, right? Call me when we get there. I'm going to curl up by the fire in the mean-time.

Chilly Gargoyle

Chilly Gargoyle, Amherst, NH, December 2005, HP Photosmart R817, Exposure unrecorded @ f4.0, ISO 50, with flash © Steven Crisp

Symbols are interesting things. Some people see gargoyles (actually, this would be called a 'grotesque' since it does not serve a purpose) and think they are unholy. Of course, they were originally carved on cathedral drain spouts to ward off evil spirits or the devil. Where do our superstitions come from? Who knows, I just like having this guy adorn the top of our driveway. But he sure does look chilly, doesn't he?

Iceberg, Ho!

Iceberg, Ho!, Bay Bulls, Newfoundland, Canada, July 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/640 sec @ f10.0, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp

Those are seagulls you might be able to see on the left side of the iceberg -- to give you an idea of scale. So this has melted down to just a little guy at this point in its journey. But icebergs floating by nevertheless ... some would shout "Global Warming!" I'm not particularly interested in furthering that agenda, but instead offer a related thought. I think a reasonable question is by what right does anyone consume a disproportionate share of the earth's finite resources? And what are you doing to keep such consumption in check?

I received an e-mail today with a nice article on some eco-friendly building in the UK. Do you think such an approach can ultimately have an effect on our housing strategy? Think 1970s oil embargo and the immediate switch to small, fuel efficient cars that left the Big 3 US auto makers wondering what hit them, saying "but we only build what the consumer wants ..." Hey, similar situation again with Hummers and mega-SUVs and now the trend toward Hybrids. Well, perhaps this approach to housing could also spark something of a revolution. Have a look:

Inspiration of the Day:

Bedzed (Beddington Zero Energy Development), is the United Kingdom's most revolutionary housing. Bar none. For a start, Bedzed is Britain's first carbon-neutral neighborhood, which means that it contributes zilch to global warming. You could go crazy with the shower thermostat, switch on every light in the house, yet sleep soundly, safe in the knowledge that you're still saving the planet.

Read the article here.

The Precipice

The Precipice, Cape Bonavista, Newfoundland, Canada, July 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/130 sec @ f5.6, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp

Hesitantly, step by step, inch by inch
You move forward while clinging to the rocks
you edge yourself tantalizingly, terrifyingly close
to the precipice, and peek into the abyss

All around you the wind is whirling about,
Pushing you closer, calling you over, shouting at you
You feel chilled, from the cold or your own fear?
You look over the edge, and pray not to fall

You see the waves, surging in and out, flashing
captivating colors of turquoise and aquamarine
You feel the power of the sea, hear its throaty roar,
smell its salty breath, so close it could take you if it wished

Or if you wished. You understand its message ... its grace.
A sacrifice is what it asks - not here, not now, but soon
And into greater depths, where siren songs are muted,
And artists palettes are muddied. Deeper, deeper still.

Over the precipice of your mind, and into the fertile void
Let go of your ego's ledge, and jump with all abandon.
You must surrender who you are, and freefall to your source
At once terrifying, and at the same time serenely beautiful.

Panic Perspective

Panic Perspective, Tokyo Tower, Minato-ku, Tokyo, Japan, December 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/125 sec @ f2.8, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp

Have you ever tried this? I've been in a few high buildings and towers that have a small section of their floor made out of glass so you can look straight down, and even walk over a "window", as shown in this picture. It gave me a strange sensation. I've watched many people who can't even bring themselves to step onto the glass. And though I'll do that, it still comes with a variety of uncontrollable thoughts -- based on fear and panic.

Imagine that. You sit over to the side, secure in the rational knowledge that the tower is structurally sound. In this case, it's been there for over 50 years, so you "know" it is not going to fall down. So there you are, reasonably comfortable in the corner, and you look over to this small glass window in the floor. You see people walking around it, then giggling, and walking over it. You see a few brave souls jumping up and down on it. Once again, you know it has been over-engineered so that it will not fail, and yet that panic emotion arises in you anyway, to some degree, as you step onto the glass and look down.

How can it be that we have this well-trained mind, and yet we can't fully control our base emotions? I realize they are instinctual, to help protect us from falling into the abyss, and I also realize that we do control them to the point where most of us can step on the glass. But why can't my rational mind, my "higher" mind, tell these emotions to just cool it, and not to bother me. Like the smoke detector in my house, that beeps when the battery dies: there seems to be no way to completely silence this mind that is trying to protect you from harm.

Or is there? My curiosity was peaked so I did something that was not possible only a few years ago (we are so lucky) -- I Googled it! And sure enough, I came upon an article that makes specific use of mindfulness techniques to focus on the present moment. Amazing to me because of my recent exploration into the Now (see this post for more information).

Anyways, I found the whole experience fascinating, and believe it can give us some direct experiential insight into how the mind works, and what to do about it! Enjoy your ability to scale new heights!

Footsteps in the sand

Footsteps in the Sand, Hana, Maui, Hawaii, February 2004, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/500 sec @ f7.0, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp

Do you remember walking barefoot on the beach?
Listening to the surf, soothing you with its voice
Did you feel its warm, moist sand squeeze
Between your toes and gently caress your soles?

Soon they are gone, wiped clean by the waves
Do you mourn for them, and wish they would remain?
Let go of this, and all you are attached to
It is no secret, no surprise; this is the flow of life itself

From the snow that falls on an isolated cave
Hidden high in the mountains where a recluse
Meditates through a cold and desolate winter
Until spring returns and the ice begins to drip, drip, drip

So the brook can babble and the stream can shout
And the river calls to fields of fragrant flowers
Swelling ponds and lakes, and feeding waterfalls
While bringing life to creatures great and small

It continues its journey -- its destiny,
Relentlessly, dispassionately, to the sea, to the sea
Where once again it will erase your footsteps
And one day, it will cleanse your soul

Frozen branches

Frozen Branches, Amherst, NH, February 2002, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f10.0, ISO 100, with flash © Steven Crisp

Imgaine if you will this picture represents the "Now". Frozen in time, like these branches, indeed beyond time, for time does not exist.

Now imagine what came before -- realizing it is no longer real, but just a memory trace. It was cold, hovering just below freezing. Clouds covered the sky, the air was thick with moisture, and then it came -- it could be rain, or snow, but this time was ice -- time frozen ice.

When the dawn came, the clouds had retreated, and sun glistened through the branches beneath a vibrant azure sky. Reflections of beauty everywhere as the ice glistened like a treasure chest of diamonds. Every living thing caught outside in that storm was ice-covered. And now the sun gave it radiance, and gave it warmth, slowly, but surely.

If you slept in that morning, you would have missed it. The trees are alive and they shake their tender limbs, and remove their frozen coats just as the wind had blown away their colorful autumn sweaters.

Life is beautiful, and is captured here, in the Now. Don't oversleep. Don't miss it. It is the only Now you've got. But it is always there for you -- if you would just awaken to it!

But how? How you ask? Look around, it is written everywhere and has all been said before. My own experience is found here.

A swan's life

Swan in the Moat, Imperial Garden, Tokyo, Japan, February 2003, Sony Cybershot, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f8.0, ISO 100, no flash © Steven Crisp

That's you! You are that swan! Beautiful, graceful, bathed in sunlight. Yet swimming in those dark waters, with all manner of slithery, slimy life underneath, the bottom feeders, just inches from your tender underbelly.

Die to them both -- the world is not black and white -- you know that deep inside. The world just 'is.' Look within and you will realize that it is all beautiful, and your true self, which is found beyond the world of black and white, is indeed radiant.

Your Life Story

The Colloseum, Rome, Italy, September 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/320 sec @ f4.3, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp

OK, so I really don't have a picture for this thoughtful quote. But since it's about imagining your life being seen by many thousands of people, I thought the Colloseum might fit -- kinda, sorta, maybe. Plus I like the photo. But even more I like the sentiment shared by a gentle soul who calls himself The Happy Guy. See what you think, and please share your comments.

YOUR LIFE STORY

Ever flip on the biography channel and marvel at the great lives of history?

Every one of us lives a great life. As humans, we have unique super-powers that most creature do not have.

We can control so many aspects of our own lives if we choose to.

We can think great thoughts if we choose to.

We can know God if we choose to.

We can choose to make the world a better place.

We can love deeply every person we choose to.

We can rise above our situations, if we choose to.

Imagine the story of your life on the biography channel. Now think ... what do you choose to do?

David Leonhardt,
The Happy Guy

Red and Purple Sunset

Red and Purple Sunset, Rockport, MA, August 2003, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f4.6, ISO 160, no flash © Steven Crisp

Consider the wisdom in these words from a Native American:

"Oh Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds, and whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me. I come before You, one of Your children, I am small and weak. I need Your strength and wisdom. Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset. Make my hands respect the things You have made, my ears sharp to hear Your voice. Make me wise, so that I may know the things You have taught my people, the lesson You have hidden in every leaf and rock. I seek strength not to be superior to my brothers, but to be able to fight my greatest enemy, myself. Make me ever ready to come to You, with clean hands and straight eyes, so when life fades as a fading sunset, my spirit may come to You without shame."

Yellow Hawk, Sioux Chief