A few weeks ago we had Ian's mom, Dianne, visit us. There is a vulnerable transparency that is absolutely refreshing in having her around. I find this same characteristic of love in Ian, perhaps one of the things that drew me to him. Like mother like son, a true similarity exists between this pair. 

As I write this blog I chuckle at both Ian and Dianne filling their suitcases with books. Forgo the plastic trinkets of places visited, and pack up the possibilities that a mind wrapped up in a good book can bring. Voracious readers, inquisitive minds, and overflowing souls make them people you seek as life companions and friends. 

One of life's greatest gifts is in the natural authenticity of meaningful conversation; the conversations where through not much is spoken, you experience the words that are. 

I think it takes a truly authentic heart to be exposed enough to allow this type of pure communication to exist with another. Often with those of whom we are not entirely comfortable exposing such inner thoughts, we use conversation fillers, such as the weather. During Dianne's time here I truly don't think we ever talked about the climate, unless it was about its change and man's ethical responsibility towards slowing the process. 

Last night I had dinner with two very dear friends of which the above is also true. I often leave their presence feeling that words were not wasted on trivial fillers to offend silence. 

Perhaps this reflection comes at missing my husband (though I generally really do feel this way). Ian had to make an unexpected trip back home and has been gone the last week. The house, though cleaner, feels pretty empty. I actually miss the little morning tasks like scrapping the egg pan (during the 5% of the time when he is not vegan), rinsing out the tea press, cleaning the bathroom of little hair shavings or wiping the constantly dripping toothpaste off the counter (it just needs a lid!). Funny how in the rushed moments before going to work I often let out a little sigh before quickly doing the above tasks, and now through their absence, it causes me to reflect. 

The other day I did something a little weird. I guess I can be a little awkward anyway so perhaps for me this was characteristic. Regardless, I just sat in silence for 30 or so minutes and took in our condo. I didn't judge the wall for not being perfect or question the color of the couch we bought. I didn't allow my perception to be altered on what would fill the vacant corner or how the spider was making a home in the one above. I just sat and very slowly allowed my eyes to drift from corner to edge and take it in. And, after my eyes had their fill, I closed them and allowed my ears to experience their turn. I listened for the walls, the wood beams supporting them, the spider spinning his web, the air coming through the open window. When I was done I opened my eyes, and realized that I had just experienced leisure for leisure's sake. 

Then I got to thinking, can human existence be fulfilled in being exclusively a "workday" existence, 9-5? Do I define my days based on how physically productive I have been in regards to work or tangible achievements? I often wonder if the busyness of life is more of a reflection that we do not agree with our own existence; that behind all of our energetic activity, we are not at one with ourselves. And, like our conversations, we use "fillers" disguised as activity to define us. 

Leisure, then, is a condition of the soul and not merely a trip to Hawaii or some exotic beach. Not a weekend get-a-way or the antithesis of being at work. Most of us can honestly say that sometimes even our "vacations" can be more stressful than our actual work. It is a condition of being, a form of stillness that is necessary preparation for accepting reality. As I experienced in my condo, only the person who is still can hear. Such stillness is an manifestation of the soul's power, and leisure therefore becomes the disposition of perceptive understanding, of contemplative beholding, and immersion of true existence. In this place of non-activity, leisure becomes an invitation to commune with the immutable mystery of Being; to open ourselves as not the seize-er, but of the seized. 

In a way, leisure, stillness, and silence are some of the greatest teachers of life. And just like love, they give us the power to reflect and step beyond the working world into a time of holiness. They allow us to win contact with those superhuman, life-giving forces that can send us, renewed and alive again, into the busyness of life. 

Peace, love, and joy 

-Sarah

The time between posts are becoming long and longer. Since Ian and I are knee deep in school right now, finding time to post has been difficult. Sometimes I think we are barely keeping our heads above water, other times it feels like we just gave birth to twins. Thankfully we are both thrilled (total understate for myself) about our new journeys. Ian is thriving in the cerebral / contemplative realm that his program is providing, and I cannot wait to come home and study global health issues and reform. Most importantly, though, we are enjoying the journey, and like most new parents, each day brings opportunity for new discoveries both in ourselves and as a couple on our mini odyssey together. 

It has also been a summer of visitors. Earlier we had my brother, Blake, and his wife, Gretchen visit. Then, Ian's college friend, Shawn, came with his family from Taipei, followed by a visit from Ian's mom. As always it is great to show people Juneau and attempt to convert them into vegans. So far our record is not too shabby either. Blake and Gretchen may move out here in the spring, and I am pretty sure Dianne is going to be experimenting with new vegan cooking over the next several months. 

It was also really good seeing family. We haven't seen Blake and Gretchen in over a year! Thankfully they were troopers and let us drag them on as many rainy trails as we could find. They even let us hike them up to John Muir Cabin for an overnight camping extravaganza. Compliment of course with red wine and twizzlers! 

I really wanted to get them out in nature as much as we could. Coming from the same gene pool, I was hopeful that the clean salty Juneau air would be as healing for Blake as it has been for me. The more I let nature enter in, the more I learn from its teachings.  

If you shout at the oak tree it does not become angry, it you plant a beautiful flower garden nearby it does not become jealous. Its being is not in relation to any opinion, fear, thought, or outcome. It stands firm, deeply rooted, and practices being present all of its life. An oak tree just is, it expresses itself in just being. 

This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. I have a tendency to run at life like it is a race; always focused on time, how competitive I am with fellow runners, or what place I will take at the finish.  Seeing your name among the top or being in the hall of fame, is consider by many a triumph. I do as well, in some regard. 

However, in the impermanent life where medals, trophies, and degrees can so quickly be destroyed, a legacy too firmly attached to such materials can be easily forgotten as well.  If however, my life has been one of love, after the dust settles, I will still have this to carry around my neck. More importantly, I can hang it in the hall of fame of another. 

In everyone, regardless of their physical accomplishments or wealth, there is the capacity to wake up, to understand, and to love. Understanding and loving are not two things but actually one. To awaken means to understand; once you understand, you cannot help but love. 

In my current class, global health ethics, we are talking about some very heavy topics. Civil conflicts, genocide, child soldiers, sex slave trade, health care disparities, stem cell research, etc.  My mind is constantly in a state of question and flux. One common thread in all these atrocities is the tendency of violence to supersede attempts at peace. Even "peace talks" are filled with emotional violence, anger and hostility. And, even though agreements are made, peace accords are often broken. 

A beautiful quote from the mission statement of the United Nations Education, Science, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), states that, "Since wars begin in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that defenses of peace must also be constructed" (UNESCO.org). I think this quote hits to the heart of so many problems, they begin in our mind. 

This weekend I watched a wonderful movie called Beyond Belief. This documentary is about two women whose husbands were killed in 911. Instead of retaliation or harboring hate in their hearts and minds, they decided to raise money for the widows of Afghanistan instead. Eventually they raised thousands of dollars and purchased chickens for the widows who could then sell the eggs for money. 

A few years later they travelled to Afghanistan to meet the women.  Once there they were overwhelmed not just by the poor conditions of the country, but how freely these women loved amidst all the atrocities they have seen, as well.  It was very powerful to see the recognition of our similarities unfold and cause an awakening of understanding, and ultimately love, in the American widows. 

Their love, I know, is hanging in the hall of fame of the Afghan women's hearts. Their legacy, through extending a hand in friendship, has also helped create an indestructible bridge of healing that no drone can destroy.  

I am guilty of not listening to nature's teachings, of being angry, jealous, and greedy. I am also guilty of clinging to my worldly "medals" and not freely letting them go. I am, however, aware that I need to awaken to these issues and allow transmutation of my gold medal into love occur. It is only through letting the hostilities pass through me, and not allowing them to attach to my soul that I can begin to progress forward toward real spiritual transformation. 

And only when, like an oak tree, standing firm, deeply rooted, and practicing being present all of my life, will I be able to provide shade and shelter to those who need it. I wonder if this is why nature is so beautiful; it is free of judgement, anger and hate, and free to love no matter what. Always. 

Sarah