Blog

 

Heather—I've never met her except on Facebook—traveled to India a few weeks ago. Apparently intended as a personal mission trip, she'd connected with a local family who welcomed her with open arms and, apparently, lots of great food. Then, India locked down and now she's required to stay in a nearby hotel. Each day at dawn Heather ascends to a rooftop terrace to live stream a report to her friends and loved ones. The hotel room, she tells us, has no window to the outside—she's stuck in a tight spot with at least 21 days of confinement ahead.

 

Much of the world is self-isolating right now, but Heather's situation is extreme. Like many of us, I'm at home. But while I have my studio and most of my usual comforts, she's spending hot days in a dark room in a foreign country trying to imagine she's holding her kitties, or walking on the beach. (Also, she reports, doing yoga and meditation.)  Also, like many of us, in the face of her predicament she's determined to keep a positive attitude. Watching her of late, however, the tight spot she's in seems to be undoing her efforts. She's not conjuring up a cheerful countenance these days; instead, she's just there, present, on the rooftop with what she can see: dogs (3, count 'em) sleeping in the street below; birds (yes, I can hear them too!); a woman sweeping her yard; a bumblebee....

 

Although I feel a bit like a voyeur, or someone watching The Truman Show, I realize I've always been inspired by stories from and about people in tight spots. I find a sober joy in witnessing Heather's process. The Presence she increasingly radiates demonstrates the human potential for rising to meet life's many challenges with graceful self-awareness. Well done, Heather—I'll definitely stay tuned!

 

In the past few days, I've also come across several more excellent resources from other folks in other kinds of limited circumstances. One video offers tips for handling self-isolation from Canadian astronaut, Chris Hadfield; another, an article by Keith Lamar, who's lived productively for 27 years in solitary confinement on death row. Both offer practical advice for dealing with self-isolation.

 

Earlier in my life, however, I was inspired by more classic accounts, including those written by Anne Frank and Etty Hillesium whose bright lives were constrained, confined and, ultimately, curtailed under Nazi oppression. And, from the same era, Viktor Frankl. Frankl's book, Man's Search for Meaning, has had a lifelong impact on my approach to life. He describes how, in the face of his own sickness and suffering, he survived against odds because he held to a meaningful purpose for his life beyond Auschwitz. Taking to heart Nietzsche's statement, "He who has a why to live for, can bear almost any how," Frankl was seemingly pulled by his purpose to act with intelligence, courage and love in a situation in which many succumbed, writing a book on tiny scraps of paper with a stub of a pencil.

 

When I get stuck in a moment of glumness (usually when one of my many selves decides to throw a pity party) or panic (having looked at too much social media), it helps if I can bring my mind to bear on my sense of purpose. Purpose doesn't have to be anything grand (although it can be); it just has to be something that really matters. Once you've identified purpose, then it's possible to set a simple goal or two—just for today. Marvin Anderson, one of my mentors, taught that a goal can be as simple as "the next right thing."

 

For an artist, the next right thing often involves putting some paint on a canvas.  I've discovered, however, that one right thing—a single stroke of paint—often leads to another. The image I've posted here is called "Nevertheless, Joy." I started it back in December and, even though I didn't particularly like it, it seemed to be finished so I signed it several weeks ago. Then, in the midst of this stressful period, I felt the painting wanted me to do more with it and the "next right thing" seemed to be PINK.  The more pink I stroked on top of the old painting, the more joyful I felt. Painting pink, I realized, was how to best serve my purpose in this moment and it felt really good!

 

When I think of Heather on her rooftop, bathed in the pink light of India's dawn, I wonder if she isn't living a purpose far more vital than she intended even when she thought she was going to India to do generous, good things. Constrained as she is by the tight spot she's in, I suspect she might be discovering (and sharing) the profound freedom of a larger Self. I'm not saying she isn't miserable; who wouldn't be if they were in her shoes right now? Nevertheless, I do believe there's something powerful and potentially joyful taking place—for Heather and for all of us—since as regards this viral pandemic, everyone on our planet is in a tight spot.

Buddha taught: "Be a light unto yourself; betake yourselves to no external refuge. Hold fast to the Truth. Look not for refuge to anyone besides yourselves."

 

With this perspective in mind, perhaps finding ourselves in a tight spot is just what's needed to set us free from the misery that, if we're honest, has plagued our culture since long before the coronavirus appeared. This time of isolation is not what I or any of us would have consciously chosen (I once went to a 5-day silent retreat—awful!), and I'm sure I'll be as glad as anyone to see the tail side of this pandemic. I wonder, however, if we'd all feel less like victims in this tight spot if we would deliberately dedicate this time as a retreat for introspection and reflection.

 

I can envision how by taking refuge within, perhaps we might come to understand how we've limited ourselves by building cages of distraction—entertainment, people, food, emails, Facebook and other trivial pursuits—those things that consume our attention on a daily basis. Perhaps we'll see how we panic now because, without these cages, we really don't know what to do! Yet by shining the light inside us rather than out—paying attention to what's within us and right in front of us—we may find a deeper purpose, or simply a bumblebee, birds flying in and out, and, without straining to make it happen, the next right thing to do. I believe realizations such as these could lead to a greater freedom and more meaningful existence for all. And, if nothing else happen, meditation can be very relaxing. Yoga too!

 

During this trying time in our individual experience of the tight spot we collectively share, I pray that we each discover that Buddha-like freedom that, whatever is going on outside, nevertheless reveals the possibility of joy arising within. And from that joy, let there be deep healing and peace for all.

 

Thanks for reading this loooong blog! Please let me know your thoughts and how you're using this time. It will be good to connect! In the meanwhile, I'm sending you mucho amor and virtual hugs from my Studio

 

Ellie

 

Read More