What I Saw When I Was Still

Today I sat on the deck again and surveyed my sister Marcia's backyard. When I had been there for about 15 minutes, a Bluejay flew down carrying something in his mouth, which he laid in the grass. Then he poked around a bit and I thought perhaps he had decided that the thing he had brought was not what he really wanted and he hoped to find something more appealing in our yard. He picked up a fallen leaf, put it down and gave it a tap. Next he picked up something else, which I took for the preferred thing he had been looking for, put that down, then picked up another fallen leaf, put that down and gave it a tap, tap. Then he flew away over the fence.

It was then that I realized that the Bluejay might have used the leaf to cover something, perhaps two things, so I got up to investigate. Sure enough, under one leaf I discovered a morsel of dry dog food, possibly taken from the dog next door. But even more interesting, under another leaf was a piece of wood about one inch long and one-quarter inch wide (probably a piece of mulch), and under that was another bit of kibble!

Well, of course, I ran to get the camera. See what happens when you stay still outside for a few minutes? It was so awesome! I felt like one of those people you see on National Geographic channel who discover that animals in the wild do things you never thought they would do! Wow!

The Ghost of Christmas Past

It's now Saturday, December 13. Time I finished the post I started nearly a week ago.

I've been visiting friends and relatives in Florida since the week of Thanksgiving, and since they attend church, I have been joining them, mainly for something to do and to "be folks," you know? At least, that's how it started out. But I've discovered that my study of Eckhart Tolle's writings has given me a new perspective on the sayings of Jesus, and that being immersed in Christian doctrine of the Presbyterian variety on Sunday morning (no pun intended, since Presbyterians don't immerse, they just sprinkle) has become less...well..."doctrinaire" when filtered through the lens of my new spiritual understanding.

A couple weeks ago I joined my cousin Peggy at her church in Tampa and even sang in her choir. I've been a choral singer nearly all my life until the last few years. It was the first Sunday in Advent, the first of four Sundays leading to Christmas, so even though the tree was not up yet, the Advent wreath of evergreens with purple, pink and white candles was on display, and the Christmas spirit that Walmart has been trying to instill since the day after Halloween finally was validated in the church sanctuary. A child was chosen to light the first purple candle and as I watched and listened to the familiar words, I harkened back to days of yore (about 1958) when I and my fellow girls' junior choir members sat together in church in our blue robes and I believed that Jesus was the son of God.

I don't remember the title of the minister's sermon, but he held my attention when he recalled his experience of being on retreat at a monastery just before Advent a few years ago. He said he had arrived for the retreat with his usual collection of essential communication devices: cell phone, laptop computer and Blackberry, intent on keeping up with his work while becoming spiritually renewed. He described how he and his fellow attendees did everything the monks did every day, including retiring at 8 p.m. and rising at 4 a.m., prayers, meals, church services and long periods of silence. It was during the silences that he answered e-mails and kept up with correspondence.

The minister then recounted his meeting with the director of the monastery, an audience that all attendees were given during their week-long stay. When his host asked how he was enjoying the retreat, he confessed to the monk that he felt he was not "getting it," that even though he was doing everything the monks did, he was not having the kind of spiritual experience he had expected to have.

"Well, duh," I said to myself. "This comes under the heading of, 'I don't believe I'd have told that.'" (I was feeling rather self-satisfied in my new-found knowledge of being in the stillness.) "Anybody should have known that," I thought.

My very next thought was, "See how quick you are to judge?" Sometimes I wonder if there is any hope for me at all, ever. And don't ask how the "no complaining/gossiping/whining" thing is going. "Today is day one" has become my mantra.

But that is not the point of this post. What I really want to convey is how being in church lately has become almost bearable because what I've heard makes more sense to me now than when I heard it back in my choir days (it was the singing that kept me going back), even as an adult. In his books, Eckhart Tolle often interprets the words of Jesus in such a way that I can almost believe again, if not that Jesus was the son of God, at least that he sure had it goin' on. If you believe in what the Bible says, I encourage you to read A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose by Eckhart Tolle. You may get an enhanced perspective on what it means to be a follower of Christ.

If you don't believe but you're still searching for "the peace that passes all understanding," (Phillipians 4:7 and A New Earth, page 56) like I am, Eckhart says you can stop searching because you already have it in you to be at peace if only you will stop the thoughts in your head and be still. And the best part is you don't have to sit on a cushion with your back perfectly straight in the pretzel--I mean lotus--position for what seems like hours but is really only 30 minutes (not that I'm complaining)... in order to experience the stillness. All you have to do is ask yourself, "Am I still breathing?" That focuses your attention away from the voice in your head ("What voice?" you ask. "That one," Eckhard replies.) and puts it on your body. Beathing in...breathing out.

Live in this moment. Be at peace. And have a holly jolly Christmas.

Just What Makes That Little Ol' Ant...

Okay, I tried it. I sat in my chair, without my computer, and waited for something to happen. I was totally in the moment. Boy, did I get fidgety. As it happened, I had placed the chair within reach of a good sized oak tree, the very one that has been dropping acorns on the RV since I arrived. (In fact, sometime during my first night under the tree, an acorn hit the roof and woke me up from a sound sleep. In my confusion I got up, opened the door, and actually heard myself say, “Who’s there?”)

Anyway, while I was waiting for something to happen, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that medium-sized black ants were crawling up and down the tree. So I turned my head ever so slowly, ever so slightly to the right (thereby fooling the creature I was waiting for in the first place into thinking that I was still just part of the landscape) and I watched the ants running up and down the tree trunk.

Here’s where I lost my “presence” and began thinking, wondering why the ants were going up and down the tree. I figured that since ants don’t live in trees (do they?) there must be something up there for them to…what?…see? Then I started wishing I were an ant and could get an ant’s eye view. I picked out a particular ant, a going-up one, and watched it until my neck ached and I couldn’t see it any more, about 20 feet above me. That didn’t answer my question so I picked out a particular coming-down ant to see what it was going to do next. I was able to follow it for a couple of seconds but then it crossed paths with a going-up ant and I switched my focus to that one.

This went on for about five or ten minutes, during which time I wondered how I might “tag” my ant so I could keep better track of it. Red fingernail polish? Finally, I realized that the coming-down ants seemed to have slightly enlarged abdomens. Aha, there was something up there they were ingesting! But were they eating it to satisfy their own hunger or were they taking it back to the colony for the benefit of their fellow ants?

Well, that was the end of being still and waiting for something to happen. Now I was out of my chair, following one of the coming-down ants to see where it was going. This took considerably more effort than merely sitting in a chair and it wasn’t long before I was crawling around on the ground trying to follow one ant back to the ant hill. I still have no idea what I expected to find out by doing that. (Mother Ant: ”Where did you get that?” Baby Ant: “It followed me home, can I keep it?” Mother Ant: “Okay, but you have to feed it and take care of it. I’m not going to do it for you.”). If only I could figure out the tagging thing I could watch my ant going into the ant hill and then see if it came out later with a skinny abdomen. But what would that prove?

I ended up in the neighbor’s yard for what must have been a fairly long time because when I “came to,” I heard the lady who owns said yard telling someone, I think it was her grandchild, that the lady in the yard (meaning me) had been concentrating very hard on something for quite a while.

Sheepishly, I walked back into my own yard, crawled back into my shell, and didn’t leave for the rest of the day. I never did find the ant hill but I did re-discover one thing: ants aren’t one bit afraid of humans. Why can’t Hooded Warblers be like that?

One With Nature

Monday, October 6, 2008

My RV is backed up into my friend Lula’s back yard here in Asheville. I am situated about a foot from a stand of bamboo and other trees and shrubs. Yesterday that put me about two feet away from a Hooded Warbler. Now, that might not mean much to you if you’re not a birdwatcher, but for me it was an exquisite moment of joy and connectedness.

I became a birder (actually I’m just a dabbler, not the serious birdwatcher that some folks are) somewhat by accident. When I bought my little house in north Asheville in 2003 I was gratified to find that I lived near Beaver Lake, and that the trail around the lake and through the bird sanctuary was the perfect distance for my daily 30-minute walk. One morning as I ended my walk in the parking lot of the bird sanctuary I stopped at the notice board and saw that the Elisha Mitchell Chapter of the Audubon Society hosts a guided bird walk on the first Saturday of every month. Well, since I was going to be walking at that time anyway, I decided to check it out.

I quickly realized on my first Saturday bird walk that my cheap binoculars were not adequate so I asked one of the birders (there were about 20 that day) about hers and she told me that particular pair cost about $300 (or was it $600?). Gulp. But she said I should go to KMart and get a pair for about $30 that would probably suffice. I did, and I’ve been looking at birds ever since, sometimes with a group, sometimes by myself.

I learned from birdwatchers that there are lots of different species of warblers that come through Asheville in spring and fall on their way to somewhere else. Some birders are what could be called “warbler snobs.” They will go anywhere, any time to see any species of warbler. To them all other birds pale in comparison. For me, even with my new and improved $30 binoculars, I had a hard time finding the often elusive warblers that others saw and pointed out to me. (”Look up there about 1:00 on the branch of that willow, just to the right of that dead oak. See it? It’s right there.” The good thing about birders is that they are infinitely patient with newbies: they want everyone to get the kick they get.)

So you can imagine my excitement when, upon hearing something land in the shrub next to the window of my RV, I looked out to see a beautiful yellow-breasted bird with a yellow and black head. I knew immediately that it was a warbler of some kind and I felt blessed indeed to be with it “up close and personal.” I could have reached out and touched it, and the reason it was not afraid to be so close to a human is that it couldn’t see me through the dark glass of my RV window. It looked around, hopped from one branch to another and back, while I held my breath. The entire encounter lasted about five seconds, and when it flew away I went immediately to my field guide to find that it was indeed a Hooded Warbler, common to the entire eastern half of the US, and probably on every Asheville birder’s list of birds they have spotted. Now I can say I “got” a Hooded Warbler.

I’ve had similar experiences many times since I’ve being living in my motorhome. While staying in the driveway of a friend in Chapel Hill, I awakened several mornings to find myself in the midst of a herd of deer. My present situation has afforded communion with several species of birds, and with three different neighborhood cats, none of which knew I was here. It’s as if I were just another creature on the planet, no different from any other, which is, of course, absolutely true. We humans usually can’t experience it because many of our fellow creatures are afraid of us.

It’s a lesson in stillness, really. Even if I were not hidden behind tinted glass, if I were to sit in the same spot long enough, and be totally still, I’m sure the same types of encounters would occur. When was the last time you sat still that long? Eckhart says awakening (his term for enlightenment) happens in the stillness. I’m cheating, here behind my dark glass. Maybe I’ll sit outside without my precious laptop and see what happens.



Mother of the Bride
October 2nd, 2008

Somehow I thought I would never have to be one of those women. My only daughter married her first husband before a judge. That didn’t work out and now she wants to marry her second with some ceremony. I don’t have a problem with that at all, but yesterday it came home to me in a big way that I am going to be attending the ceremony as the Mother of the Bride and I don’t have a costume!

I have given away and/or sold all my appropriate MOB clothes and shoes so that I could fit myself and my stuff into a Roadtrek 190 Popular, which doesn’t really matter because I didn’t have the right dress and shoes anyway. So yesterday I went shopping (ugh).

I started at two used/vintage stores in downtown Asheville and found nothing. Why is it that no size 16-18 dresses ever make it to these shops? So then it was off to Ross [Dress for Less]. I needed something so inexpensive that I wouldn’t mind paying for a dress I would wear only once. Fortunately, the selection was great! The only problem was deciding which style would please the bride: dressy/sparkly or tailored. I bought five outfits totalling $180 and took them to my daughter’s for approval

She liked all of them, which was gratifying to say the least, but not particularly helpful. We narrowed it down to the brown or the teal, both of them three-piece chiffon-ish numbers with glitter. Brown? I haven’t worn brown since 1973 but my daughter tells me it’s the “in” color; and besides, the glitter is gold/orange so it goes with the fall theme of the wedding.

Only problem, excuse me: challenge (thank you, Eckhart) now is the mother of the groom hasn’t bought her dress yet so I can’t make a definite decision until she does (something about her being concerned with having very few choices: I don’t know), and then I have to find some cheap shoes to go with the dress. Don’t you wish your life were this jam-packed and fun-filled?

Want to know what I’m looking forward to the most in connection with this wedding, besides seeing my Memphis siblings? Being in my daughter’s clean apartment. No one has seen her living room floor or kitchen counters in months. Exciting stuff.



Finding Peace in Nature
September 29th, 2008

Yesterday my friend Lula and I hiked up Roan Mountain to Jane Bald. When we reached our destination the elevation was about 6,000 feet. Unfortunately, we were in the middle of a cloud and couldn’t see anything of the surrounding view. But for me it didn’t matter one little bit. It was just so wonderful to be up there, wind and fog and all (and of course, I felt rather pleased with myself for making the hike as it was quite treacherous in places–and it was my first time on the Appalachian Trail!). I don’t know what the temperature was but I would guess it was about 50 degrees. With the wind it felt very chilly indeed.

Being one with the cloud and the mountain, the plants and the rocks, would not have meant so much to me if not for the work I have been doing with Eckhart Tolle, Elizabeth Lesser, Wayne Dyer and others recently, all through the wonder of the internet and the gift of Oprah Winfrey. Many spiritual teachers recommend getting in touch with the source of all being by going into the natural world. As Tolle says, you can connect with your consciousness by meditating on the microwave (I’m paraphrasing here) but it’s easier to get the message if you focus on a flower. The photo didn’t come out as well as I had hoped but if you look closely at the little red dots in the center, those are flowers growing out of a bed of moss and lichens (I think) clinging to a rock at 5,000 feet along the Appalachian Trail near Roan Mountain, NC, and I was there to witness them. I was so happy to be in the cathedral on the mountain rather than in the pew in town.















Eckhart Again
September 26th, 2008


I can’t seem to get enough of Eckhart Tolle. What an incredible teacher. If you have not read A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose run, don’t walk, to your nearest bookseller and get this book. When you have read it, go to Oprah.com and sign on to the ten sessions she did with Eckhart Tolle. With any luck, just reading the book will put you on a path that will change your life. Seeing Tolle with Oprah, and hearing questions others have, really brings it all home. This is how we can change the world. McCain can’t do it and Obama can’t do it, but you and I can, because we can contribute to the universal consciousness that will make it happen. Want inner peace? You have it already and Eckhart can help you discover the place in you where it resides.

Too “woo-woo” for you? Well, words always have been, and always will be, inadequate to describe the indescribable. I might have felt the same way not long ago, but when you are a seeker after truth or enlightenment or whatever you call it, and someone comes along who really can help you to see that you already have it, you pay attention, right?

This man is worth your attention. The world needs to wake up, and it happens one person at a time. Join us.



Stuck!
September 24th, 2008

There’s no gas in downtown Asheville! That is, if the one station I heard about on the news is now completely out. They made the news because three guys got in a fight and the police had to be called in! Sometimes life gets just a little too weird. I’m staying in a friend’s back yard and I have about 1/4 tank of gas so I guess I’ll just hang out for a few days. I can download old black and white movies from Netflix and work on my blog. Unfortunately, working on my blog is a big headache, literally, since I don’t know what the heck I’m doing.

See, what I really need to be doing, aside from keeping you informed of my whereabouts (it’s so boring I don’t know why you care) is finishing my pet portraits page so I can get it out there for people who might like to have a hand-drawn portrait of their special friend. My new business is called All In The Family: Pet Portraits by Lila, and you can see a sample of my work on my pets page. I’d tell you how to get to that page if I knew how. So many questions, so little brainpower. This is one of those times when I wish I were 30 again, or maybe 15 would be more useful, since it seems that the younger you are when you try to learn this stuff the better (maybe 5 would be even better).

How are you coping with the gas shortage? That is, if you’re in Western North Carolina. I guess folks outside our area are not experiencing this problem. Do you think there really is a shortage? Some don’t. Who knows? I’m just happy to be retired. I can be stuck for a while and it won’t matter. Good luck if you’re still having to make the commute every day.



Look at Me, I'm Blogging!
September 17th, 2008

To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.
Dame Freya Stark, British Explorer, b.1883-d.1993

I told everyone I would keep in touch by weblog and I truly have wanted to keep my promise, but every time I sit down to write, my editor (we’ll call her Linda, after someone I used to know who now is trying to get beyond perfectionism and learn to let herself just BE) would tell me it was boring, or it was going to be boring (since I hadn’t even started), and so I would decide it was the wrong time of day, or the wrong place, or…well, you know.

Today all that ends. I beg your indulgence while I give it one more try. I hope you’ll be kind.

As you may know, I’m currently living in a 19-foot camper van, a Roadtrek 190 Popular to be specific, parked this week at Small Country Campground in Byrd Mill, Louisa County, Virginia, off I-64 between Charlottesville and Richmond. My handy-dandy indoor/outdoor thermometer says it’s 78 degrees inside and 75 degrees outside, but since I am pretty sure neither of those is accurate, let’s just say there is a slight drizzle falling and it’s not hot (hallelujah). I have a roof exhaust fan that is pulling a cool breeze in through the window behind me, so I am comfy cozy.
I’ve spent two months in my little shell, whom I’ve re-christened Sheila (Shell: Sheila—get it? Lila and Sheila—oh never mind), but I’ve hardly left NC, the first month having been spent in Asheville just getting the feel of things in the RV and learning to use all the new electronics I bought, all of which were totally new for me, and each of which came with its own two-pound manual, sometimes more than one and usually written in more than two languages.

(Linda: Well that’s not very interesting. Tell them something interesting.)

Shut up! Oops, sorry, not you. So anyway, here’s the thing: I want this big adventure to be something more than just a trip around the country in a camper. At first that was all I wanted and/or needed. My friends said, “Ooh, I want to come,” or “Gee, you’re brave to do that all by yourself,” and my chest would swell with pride and I’d feel really good about myself. But now that I’m out here, I want the trip to be more meaningful in some way; I just haven’t figured that part out yet.

Occasionally I think perhaps there is some “quest” that I could embark on, like finding the best vegan food in every state. You know, like they do with barbecue or whatever. I would be the secret vegan food critic, selling articles from the road to Vegan Magazine. Then I’d collect my oh-so-clever reviews into a book and become a famous food critic. And then I’d have my own show on the Food Network, and I wouldn’t let the fact that I know nothing about vegan cooking deter me, I’d learn as I go.

Or…I’d become a troubador, or is it a minstrel? Whatever. I would drive into the small town square in places where folks don’t have a lot of cultural events and set up my little show. I’d sing and tell stories and juggle, and kids would come by the dozens and bring their parents and grandparents, and they’d throw money and we’d all have a really good time. And I wouldn’t let the fact that I don’t play an instrument and I can’t remember the stories deter me, I’d learn to play the ukulele and make up the stories as I go along.

Or maybe I would just collect rocks…if I had a place to put them.

Well, that’s what I think about sometimes. Other times, I just want to go deeper into myself, in my solitude, in my little home on wheels, where I don’t have to perform in any way for anyone. Where life is simple and I don’t have to learn new tricks or remember any lines. Where the most taxing part of the day is remembering to unplug the RV before leaving the campground (I now have a list). I even bought Eckhart Tolle’s book A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose on CD so I could listen to it while I drive. I loved the book so I thought this would be a great way to have a constant reminder to be in the present. I’ve been on the road for two months and haven’t opened the package. What’s that about?

No, there’s something more I want to do. I just can’t put my finger on what it is. I discovered recently that my life must include service to others or I’m not fulfilled, but I can’t volunteer my time in the usual way when I’m in a new place every week (although I figure I can at least continue to give blood every eight weeks).

My need to serve, or be useful in some way, has been on my mind even more since I read Life Is a Verb: 37 days to wake up, be mindful, and live intentionally, by my friend Patti Digh of Asheville. It’s a very personal, reflective book but with such exquisite nuggets of truth for living that I know you will be as inspired as I have been. The premise: How would you spend your time if you knew you only had 37 days to live? The question is based on Patti’s true life experience following the death of her stepfather from lung cancer. I love the exercises at the end of each chapter: suggestions for things to do in order to live more intentionally, life being about action (definition of a verb, right?). Get your own book and have Patti sign it at Malaprop’s on September 20 (or maybe coming she’ll be in your town—see 37days.typepad.com for schedule).

So perhaps someone out there has some suggestions for how I can live intentionally, and in service, while I’m out here having the absolute time of my life! (Hey…who says simply having the time of my life isn’t allowed? Because it’s a totally selfish act? Hmm… Maybe it’s that first-born thing again…taking responsibility… Oh shut up, Linda)



My Itinerary
September 17th, 2008







July 12 – August 12: Wilson’s RV & Campground, Amboy Road, Asheville

August 12: Julian Price State Park Campground

August 13: Visited Blowing Rock, then Boone (looking for a car charger for my cell phone), spent the night at WalMart for the first time, in Winston-Salem (not too bad)

August 14: Toured Old Salem which I enjoyed because I like historical sites.

August 15: After spending the night at WalMart in Asheboro, I went to the Africa part of the North Carolina Zoo (the other part is North America). Since I’m not really fond of zoos, it was pretty much a waste of time: I was not impressed. Spent the night in the driveway of a B&B in Siler City (no charge; nice people; we went out to eat).

August 16: Went to Hillsborough to spend time with friends of a friend from Asheville who were full-timers in an RV for 3 years. Had a great week seeing the sights in Raleigh (Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit was great, as was the NC Farmers Market), Durham (Duke Gardens and Nasher Museum show of El Greco/Velasquez-era paintings) and Hillsborough. Also had my first experience contra dancing. Wow, what a workout!

August 23: Spent 3 days in Chapel Hill in the driveway of contacts through UU church. Spent an afternoon on Franklin St., main drag at UNC, saw a movie.

August 27: Spent time in Roseboro with my ex-husband’s cousin and his wife on the pecan farm they call The Nut House.

Sept. 2: Back to Hillsborough in another contact’s driveway one night

Sept. 3: Drove to Danville, VA, just so I could say I had left NC! Spent the night at WalMart, stayed all day

Sept. 4: Drove to Lynchburg where I spent the night at, you guessed it: WalMart.

Sept. 5: On the way to Charlottesville I saw the turnoff to Natural Bridge so I took it and had a good time touring the caverns, the natural stone bridge (wow) and the wax museum. Decided to head to Charlottesville on Blue Ridge Parkway (big mistake: it gets pretty monotonous after a while, and it’s very slow going) but got off at Sheronda Lake and found a campground.

Sept. 6: In the morning I was all set to leave when a ranger told me about the Museum of Frontier Culture in Staunton, so I went and it was very interesting. They have disassembled several really old buildings in Europe and brought them over here, where folks in period costume answer questions about what you see in the houses. The oldest was built in 1630! Then on to Charlottesville, finally, and past it about 30 miles to Small Country Campground in Louisa. The next day I visited Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's plantation, which was akin to a religious experience.

Sept. 13: Back in Asheville, after an overnight stay at WalMart in Roanoke, to help my daughter prepare for her Oct. 25 wedding.