I am still feeling wonderfully buzzed from the intoxicating spell that Big Sur always casts over me – that Tolkien-esque aura in the air that makes me feel like my heart has been drenched in honey.  The drive along the Pacific Coast Highway from Cambria to Big Sur and Big Sur itself are a part of the world that never fail to fill my heart with a deep sense of peace and gratitude for just being alive.  Whenever I go there I always find my real self – that part of me that knows when to let go, when to try harder and when to simply sit still and observe.  This weekend I saw a shooting star, sketched two ravens canoodling on a tree branch above me and listened to hundreds of bees scurrying about amongst the lavender bushes.  I watched the kelp beds rise and sink along the surface of the water, hiked in a fern-filled forest and felt my skin tingle from the blazing warmth of the unseasonably hot November sun.  Big Sur never fails to make me feel whole and tingly with life.

As if all of the wonder and beauty around me were not enough, I also started reading a book that, in the introduction alone, enabled me to feel a deeper connection to my own true self.  The book is The Poet’s Guide to Life:  The Wisdom of Rilke, and in the introduction the reader learns a little bit about Rilke’s life, philosophy and work.  There was so much I read in this introduction that had me nodding enthusiastically and even sighing with relief, exclaiming a silent "Thank you" to Rilke for believing in his work and his process and in the value of examining it all.  I sometimes think that I spend too much time trying to examine so many parts of my life; it feels indulgent at best and self-absorbed at worst.  But my goal is not to become so entangled in my own psyche that I lose sight of the bigger picture of life or its day to day details.  My goal is to try to decipher some of the mysteries that surround all of us at any given moment – the mysteries of love, of death, of joy, and of art.  The large and small questions that we all want answers to yet are the most difficult to uncover.  I keep hoping that by looking more closely at my own questions, issues, and problems – through writing, painting, creating, or thinking – I will find that treasure I seek:  the answer to what it all means, the tiny jewel of wisdom that will carry me through future questions and experiences with greater ease and a deeper sense of self.

There has been so much commentary on the intense pace of life in 2005, with all of its cell phones, pagers, blazing internet speeds and information overload.  It feels redundant to expound upon that here.  But I must mention it as the context against which my desire to practice mindfullness in my life has grown.  I think there is so much pressure to go everwhere we can go, see everything we can see, communicate with as many people as possible at once and amass as much stuff as our cabinets can contain.  Much of what motivates me in life is a desire to resist this intense pace.  I have all kinds of goals that I am willing to work hard to attain – for my work, my art, travel, relationships, and yes, even financial goals.  But it is imperative these goals come from within me, and not from some kind of twisted desire to live up to someone else’s expectations or definitions of success.  That is why I have a tendency to dive deep into questions and problems that arise in my life, as well as the moments of supreme joy such as this weekend in Big Sur.  I want to make sure I am living my life in alignment with what I value most personally and profoundly.

If all I did was sit around and ponder my navel, I wouldn’t be doing myself or the world around me much good.  But I do believe that exploring the questions I have in life is important.  Whenever I am able to lift the veil of understanding and the "Aha!" bubbles up from within me, I feel at once lighter and more grounded.  I suddenly have a tiny bit of insight that helps me understand something about myself, my life, my past or my dreams and I can now carry this with me as a tool in my future.  I cannot hope to unlock all the mysteries of life, but I do find it gratifying to feel certain puzzle pieces click into place beneath my fingers.

All of the questions I brought up last week in my journal about family, relationships, and lifelong dreams could have very easily been brushed aside.  It would have been almost effortless to make the choice to just think about something else, fill my days with other distractions and let the thoughts fade away.  Would that have made last week a little easier?  Perhaps.  But it would have left me feeling empty, and taken away the opportunity I had to try to learn a little bit more about myself, my family and the nature of love and relationships.  I don’t think I solved any great mysteries, but I now have a clearer picture of the circumstances that I must deal with as a member of the family (or maybe families) I’m in.  Through writing, through reading the opinions and ideas of those who responded to what I wrote, through talking to friends and sitting still with my own thoughts, I found some clarity.  My toolbox is now a bit heavier, but I also have more strength to carry it.

This cycle will continue – questions will follow problems as well as joys, examination will follow the questions and hopefully greater wisdom will spring forth from the questions.  Through it all, I will be an artist, pay my bills, shop at Target, read magazines, go to Big Sur, talk on the phone with my girlfriends, watch movies, laugh with Sofia, cry when I hear certain songs and take long showers.  And I will dream.  And I will ponder.  And I will keep on trying to live the best life I can live.

"The longer I live, the more urgent it seems to me to endure and transcribe the whole dictation of existence up to its end, for it might just be the case that only the very last sentence contains the small and possibly inconspicuous word through which everything we had struggled to learn and everything we had failed to understand will be transformed into magnificent sense."  Rilke