snowman in full lotus

I stepped outside to feel the cold air of a few minutes past midnight, and rediscovered the silent appeal of tiny unexpected snowflakes floating through orange streetlights. After too many images of the lonely far away war on television, the sweet silence brought me together again through the graceful solitude that sweeps each of us away from time to time.

None of us knows exactly what to do, but our government keeps sending young men and women to damage and get damaged in the shifting sands of a war without end. The tiny eyes of the talking heads who take no risks keep shining out in increasingly high definition, while some people somewhere write headlines to gloss over the casualties who return home to suffer. The more numerous the words about bloodshed, the more hollow it all becomes and healing slips silently out under the crack below the door.

Smooth cold asphalt is a monolith under my shoes. I can feel the interconnected impermeable slab of contiguous paving that probably connects me to you right now wherever you are in North America. Barefoot in a snowdrift, the grey snow at the edges of curbs appears almost comforting in that way that it fits neatly in my cupboards of memory. Sometimes I'm toughened by fatigue and watch the pale clouds of midnight in just a t-shirt and jeans from the sidewalk outside, thick-skinned soles affording me ten or fifteen minutes of unmitigated communion with the nighttime hum of a civilized wilderness. Then my feet chill through to the bones of my heels so I retreat to carpet and wool socks inside, sipping rooibos tea the color of creamy rust and vacantly smile out the windows.

Where can we journey together, you and I, across spring lakes cold from recent melted ice, summers of sweaty knee-high grass and checkered picnic blankets under shady oaks, autumns of rich spicy apples and crumbling orange maple leaves, winters of bright rigid icicles and long nights made short by well-loved quilts, and spring again for unfolding creased and spotted maps to chart this year's tillage over last year's fallow hollows? Life without cycles is unimaginable, and summer is never too far away when we make lentil stew together and dance. We can honor February while hurrying it out the door to call March and see if it wants to go out dancing with April. May is coming to town soon, a visit to look forward to before June comes and unpacks childhood delights in the backyard. For this sweeping procession, our music is the food of love and seeing your face each morning over steam rising from mugs brings me some transcendence.

Our planet spins swiftly and keeps on carousing around the sun without regard to our tiny consciousness bubbles. So let's think less about war and fear, make snowcones in the park, and delight in the solar radiation that does reach our not-so-epic rock even in the winter. Spring will be here soon to ensure that we forgive and forget and begin again.

walking before flying? why wait?

It lies out there in the desert, somewhat more fortified than the Great Wall of China, a bit more heavily guarded than an Israeli security checkpoint in the occupied territories, with higher fences and more razor wire than San Quentin. It's that place Outside Your Comfort Zone, and it's tough and scary to get there.

However, upon lots of recent reflection, I've come to feel that most of my really meaningful, challenging, and satisfying moments in life have come by stepping outside my comfort zone. I've grown comfortable with a strong workout routine when I used to be baffled and bored by the idea of a gym before ever really setting foot in one. I've tried experimental diets to boost my own body's immune system through alternating fasting days, and although it was really tough some days, it was great to really step back from food and reacquaint myself with what it means to be hungry, to eat well, to be full, and to eat for reasons other than hunger. I managed to bicycle 3500 really satisfying miles in one summer trip, even though the idea of really long rides (over 50 miles) still brings up fear issues in me that I won't be able to make it for some unknown reason. I tried throwing pottery for the first time last fall (something I've secretly wanted to do for years), and I was actually pretty good at it and loved doing it. I built a chair last year from scratch in spite of being daunted by the idea of "furniture building," but it has turned out quite well and many people have speculated that they might buy such a piece (??).

We also can also push the borders of our comfort zones in less tangible ways. Learning to be a better listener when everyone tells you that you talk a lot can be an immense but satisfying challenge. Practicing a little financial restraint when we're used to shopping to provide meaning in our lives can be a novel and scary idea, but often with plenty of rewards. Cultivating patience at times when we feel we're about to burst with anger can be a lifetime practice, but who knows how many joys it will lead to?

I think when we can step outside our comfort zones, it's really good for us. We shake up our old world views with new perspectives and information. There's also lots of evidence that our brains go into a different mode of perception when we're doing or encountering new things. This heightened level of activity keeps our brains active and may even work to delay or prevent degenerative ailments like Alzheimer's. Doing new and difficult things gives us something interesting to talk about at the water cooler at work - much more exciting than last night's predictable TV babble. We also give ourselves chances to discover new passions, things that we thought we might enjoy but in fact we actually LOVE to do. Look at all these benefits...

Right now I feel like I'm taking a big leap outside my comfort zone in moving to Canada to be with my girlfriend Emily. I've discovered (in my relationship with Emily) that I feel most safe and secure when I can be in a place where there is a clear and strong need for my help. Heading to Ontario is really scary for me because I'll have to create a niche for myself from scratch, so to speak (although lots of help from Emily's friends is not be discounted at all). It's a feeling of letting go of control and safety to a large extent. I feel like I'm breaking out in a new direction, though I don't even know what that direction is. I suspect it will unfold before me as I move along this unknown path, but to remember that is hard and it doesn't always bring comfort in my moments of doubt. I like the idea of testing myself and my comfort zone in a big sense like this, but I'm also scared to death. I guess this is what the big changes in life are all about.

So, what are you going to do this week to push at the edges of your comfort zone? What do you want to do that you are afraid of failing at? Have the conversation, buy that alpaca ranch you've been dreaming of, follow your heart's desire wherever it leads, especially if it's a little scary and a little unclear. That's where all the good stuff lies in wait for you...

(that's a sea otter in those waves, saying "Ain't much changed 'round here since the beginning of time. But do you know where you're going?")

minute intermission

I feel like so often our culture is going to fast, or more accurately we are moving ourselves along too fast. We've got time-saving devices but fill that time with even more activities. We work more hours than ever before, and therefore try to cram compensation into short vacations that are difficult to relish because we're not practiced at being slow. We're connected to the whole world more and more all the time - cell phone calls from 3000 miles away while we walk down the sidewalk, cable that brings us more images than ever at faster speeds, internet news about events worldwide and even out in the universe. We're plugged in and turned on, tuned in to what is being broadcast. It's a fast-paced, high tech life that can carry us away if we let it.

I think being able to slow down is a virtue. I think in slowing down, we can see ourselves and the world around us more clearly. When we're in a hurry, we are simply unable to take in the same level of detail that we can if we slow down. We get wrapped up in our own narrow, self-justifying ideas about what is important in our lives and focus on them with less and less skepticism or curiosity about alternatives.

What do I mean by slowing down? Taking time to just be - sitting with a cup of tea, standing and looking at the moon for a while, making sure to have enough free time each day to feel balanced, taking a few moments to consider our food before we eat, sitting on a Saturday afternoon in the sun wondering what it will be like to grow old and die, walking on a short errand rather than driving, just sitting with a loved one to listen deeply to what she has to say. It's tough to slow down, especially in our culture. Everyone else seems to be going fast, getting things done, moving on to the next thing, multitasking - and if they're not, maybe they look like they're getting behind in the game while others get ahead. It's possible that we will fall behind in the rat race if we slow down, but I think there are many advantages to slowing down in life and making more space for reflection. I think there's a lot of evidence that we are healthier, smarter, well-rested, and more satisfied if we just take a little time to slip back into first gear and look around.

This has been a public service announcement brought to you by me. Nothing eloquent, just some thoughts while I sit on the corner watching things and wondering :-)