The Best Mentors I Ever Had

When I think of a mentor, I think of Yoda. You know, he’s the shriveled gnome-like creature who tried to teach Luke Skywalker the ways of the Force. More realistically, mentors are often teachers, relatives, or friends who see something teachable in a person and reach out to lead that person on a path of excellence in a specific skill, talent or knowledge.

I wish I could say that there was one such person in my life: that one special person who took me under wing to teach me that one…thing.  The fact is that there were many:  Those teachers who taught me to read and write and then later to critically think and learn the tools of research.    There were those spiritual teachers who taught me to walk in a just and upright way.  There are the people who are concerned with my physical and emotional health.  Thank God for them. There were those practical teachers who taught me how to use a computer, cook a meal, and take command of an office.   Then there are the men and women with whom I drum.

My mentors are not limited to those I know.  There are all those teachers and mentors from history’s pages.  I never understood why I had to study the Greek philosophers while a college student.   Now I do.  I love to read biographies.  Learning how a notable person navigated life has given me insight in to how I conduct my own.  Hundreds of writers, artists, and musicians, both alive and not, have influenced my creative expressions.

For a polymath, one mentor  would never have been enough.

 

ljg 2018

Knowledge of the Ancients

I remember that once, when I was very young, I had an earache and a family member blew cigarette smoke in my ear to alleviate the pain. I don’t remember if it worked or not. In retrospect, this act seems bizarre,  and I am somewhat skeptical of its effectiveness. I also remember that whenever someone in the family had severe body aches, a liberal quantity of foul-smelling “liniment” was applied to that person. Since I don’t recollect ever seeing a television ad for this product, I did a little research and found out that “liniment” is the name of any herbal infusion or tincture used as a topical remedy for pain.

No, we did not live in some remote cabin in the woods. We lived in the suburbs. And we did take regular medicines, and, as needed, we did go to medical doctors. Nevertheless, these quirky folk remedies occasionally were employed.

More recently, an older family member mentioned that a great-grandfather of mine did “water-witching”. This is the act of finding water using dowsing rods. Another family member said that was nonsense, that my great-grandfather was not a dowser, but had in fact only hired a dowser to find a place to sink a well — which I guess was not nonsense.

Anyway, my point in mentioning all this is that there was a time when such folk ways were the norm. No one thought they were “paranormal,” “New Age,” “magickal,” “earth-based,” “of the devil” or “alternative.” Folk-ways were a part of a world view that for the people of the time were normal and effective.  It was just the way things were.

As a city girl, born and raised, I have been for the most part cut off from this heritage. I’m never going to need to dowse for water (I’ll call a plumber) or have someone blow smoke in my ear (I’ll take an antibiotic). But I can see the benefit of returning to the use herbs, healthy food, exercise and fresh air to maintain good health. I can see the wisdom of joining the ancient folk medicines of Europe and Indigenous America with that of traditional Chinese medicine and Ayurvedic health practices.  They are cheaper and gentler on the body in many cases–though I will still go to the hospital if I feel like I am having a heart-attack.

These ancient ways were typically handed down from mothers to daughters, or from sages to their students. Typically the teachers would find the most teachable student in the family and bestow this knowledge to the next generation.

Maybe my vague recollections of these ancient practices and my current study and application of these practices is a way in which this knowledge is being bestowed upon me.

Postscript:  After I wrote this, I found this Ted Talk.  The scholar echoes what I am trying to say here:.

 

ljgloyd (c) 2018

Viriditas: An Earth Day Reflection

It seems appropriate on this Earth Day weekend that I spent a little time working in my small container garden. In the past, I have not been overly successful with gardening, but this time I approached it in a different manner. In the past, I would determine that I would plant a garden, and then spend large amounts of time sweating and toiling, ultimately not seeing much of a return for all the effort.

This time I am letting the plants grow themselves. What do I mean by this? All I need to do is four things: plant when the temperature is warm enough, and provide them with proper light, nutritious soil, and the right amount of water. I only spend about an hour once a week checking on them, giving them a good long drink of water, and keeping an eye out for insects and anything else that might be an obstacle to their well-being. Other than doing these simple activities, I get out of the way and leave them alone to grow. Plants, it seems, have the power within themselves to grow.  I don’t need to fuss over them

The medieval abbess, Hildegard of Bingen, who was a theologian, musician, writer, scientist, medical practitioner, mystic and visionary, had a word for this inner force: viriditas, or “greening” power. This power pulses with vitality and fruitfulness.  It resides in every living organism.  It is life in abundance.

What if we applied the same basic gardening principles to our own lives, both physically and spiritually? What if we got out of our offices, away from our computers and devices and exercised in the fresh air, feeling sunlight on our faces, eating nutritious food, and drinking lots of water? The greening power within us would heal our bodies.

Similarly, what if we disengaged from social media and all the other obstacles to our peace of mind? What if we were to take time to pray and meditate, fellowship face-to-face with others, feed our souls with things that are pure and wholesome and not negative or hateful? What if we partook of the divine Spirit that “greens” this world?

Then true healing would take place. Of this, I am certain.

Ljgloyd 2018

A Sacred Glow

When the sunlight glows low and soft through the window, and the time of day is slow and considered– when the conditions are just so– even the most ordinary objects have a sacred luminescence.

Ljgloyd 2018

Faceless? Oh, No!

I am not faceless as long as I have a pen and a good internet connection.

Ljgloyd 2018

Talismans, Rituals, and the Fine Art of Procrastination

Some creatives have talismans in their creative spaces. Many an artist or writer will waste time in searching for that “right” object to serve this function and even more time arranging their spaces around the object. They do all of this instead of arting or writing. I know this because I spent time rearranging my “dream corner” and finding the right place to put my dream catcher.

Another time-waster of creatives is engaging in some sort of “ritual” before sitting down to work.    They dim the lights, light candles, fondle the aforementioned talisman (I DON’T do that with my dream catcher), make a whole ceremony over making a pot of tea (or pouring a few fingers of Scotch), and so on.

Again, I am guilty of that myself.   For example, this morning, instead of working in my sketchbook which I vowed to do every morning, I wasted time doing an inventory and making a swatch list of all my colored pencils.   Seriously.

Now I know some creatives will argue that their talismans and rituals are vital to their work.  Some see their work spaces and times as sacred and thus requiring such objects and actions to sanctify them.  I get that.  I do.  To me, the act of creating is a calling, a vocation.  You must treat the work with respect and awe.

But I know for myself that such things can be massive time-wasters.  I may do them because I don’t want to face the blank page or empty canvas.  I do them because I am just lazy and would rather screw around on Facebook than sit down and work.   Sometimes, I know the work is going to bring up uncomfortable emotional baggage.  Who wants to experience that?    All of us, if we want to live out our calling as creatives.

Don’t let your time-wasters divert you into becoming a master of the fine art of procrastination.

 

ljgloyd (c) 2018

A Visit with Some Friends

I went to the Hammer Museum last week and had a captivating time with some old friends: Rembrandt, van Gogh, Cassatt, Degas, and several others. My plan is to study these and use them as reference images as I work on improving my drawing skills.

 

Suddenly, She Was Without Words

I cringed when I saw this morning’s word prompt, “Suddenly.” This is a word with which I struggle almost every time I write a bit of fiction. My short stories tend to have abrupt changes in action, especially after several slow paragraphs of explanatory material. For example, “Suddenly, the door flung open and jarred her from her thoughts.”   I spend a lot of time agonizing over this one little word.

Like the word “very “, “suddenly” for me has become overused and boring.   I have tried using a thesaurus to find alternative words, but most of the time these alternative words are just as overused: “quickly” “abruptly”.   Or they don’t suitably or precisely convey the action or the flavor of the piece.   For example another word for “suddenly ” is the word “forthwith”.   This would be fine if I were Will Shakespeare.  “Forthwith, he dreweth his blade and ventured yonder.”

This is an extreme example, but I hope you get that my point is in not relying too heavily on the thesaurus  for your word choice. It doesn’t always work well.

So what is the alternative to using a thesaurus?

Reading.  Yes, it is not an immediate fix, but in the long run, nothing replaces reading as the best way to build a writer’s vocabulary.

For every paragraph you write, read a novel.

OK, that was extreme too, but you get my drift.

 

ljg 2018

Peering at the World through Cat’s Eyes

The amazing thing about writers, poets, artists, — creators of all kinds– is that we have the innate ability to observe the world around us and feel wonder. Wonderment is as important a tool as pens, brushes, cameras, and musical instruments. Here is a poem I wrote 22 years ago, and I think it explains this.

Peering at the World through Cat’s Eyes

To meditate like a cat,
Poised, enigmatic, sphinx-like,
on a redwood deck
watching morning sun splinter
through dew-drops,
sniffing the fading
night scents of jasmine,
listening to rising
birdsongs and strong steps
of mistress in the kitchen,
to meditate on such as this
in stillness, in silence,
peering at the world
with golden almond-split eyes,
is to watch it crack
open and display
its wonderous beauty.

ljgloyd, 1996, 2018

Salads, Tough Cookies, and that Still, Small Voice

I have encountered many an article, blog post, and news commentary that state that we are forgetting the fine art of compromise. We see this uncompromising attitude everywhere from our personal relationships to our legislators. Compromise, to some, seems to be a sign of weakness. The lack of willingness to see a middle road that satisfies everyone often leads to a lot of strife and nastiness and most certainly stagnation in the advancing of any personal or political agenda.

That being said there are times when we cannot compromise. For me, I cannot compromise on those disciplines that help me live a healthier life. It would be easy at times to compromise and tell myself that it is okay to eat “just a few” of those fries that came with the sandwich I ordered as long as I don’t eat them all. Being uncompromising means that I send the fries back and get a salad instead — no matter what the rest of my dinner companions say.

There is another area wherein I do not compromise: heeding the voice of my intuition. Sometimes I find myself in situations where I am being pushed or pulled in a direction that my “gut” tells me is not good for me. When I find myself in such situations, first I examine it and myself to see if I might indeed be acting stubbornly. I am more than willing to change my mind if the situation warrants it. However, if after doing so,  if my intuition is still screaming at me not to comply, then I need to heed it.

There may be nothing inherently wrong with what I am being asked to do; it might even be the noblest of tasks, but if my intuition tells me that this is something I should not do, then I won’t. Period. End of discussion.

That “still small voice” inside of me is an uncompromisingly tough cookie — and so am I.

 

ljg 2018