Tag: Digesting 2020

Staying Close to Home

Staying Close to Home

Staying. It’s a word that sums up what I’ve been practicing for the past year, both on and off the meditation cushion.

On the cushion: staying present to what is right here, including the challenging emotions that arise. Investigating a little deeper instead of resisting, fleeing, or fantasizing about being somewhere else. 

Off the cushion, in daily life: staying close to home and exploring what’s right here. Taking a closer look. Sure, there were places I wanted to travel to. However, with everything going on, it felt more right to stay close to home.

I thought of it as an experiment. In lieu of traveling, I explored the natural areas around me: the river, local parks and hiking trails, and the town I live in.

What I’ve found by experimenting with staying is that it leads to great freedom and appreciation. What liberation is greater than the capacity to be content right where you are, with things as they are, right now, no matter what is going on? When you can access that, any goal, destination, or striving is just icing on the cake. You don’t rely on such things to provide a sense of fulfillment that is absent in the present moment. Happiness is here and now. And you can carry it with you into whatever you pursue and wherever you go.

Returning

I grew up in Saratoga Springs, a small city in Upstate New York that has received numerous national accolades. Slogans like “Saratoga: The Summer Place to Be” made it feel like the center of the universe! I went away for college and after graduating spent the next 12 years moving around. Naturally, as my worldview expanded, I considered how my hometown fit into it. During those years away, I adopted a stereotyped image of Saratoga Springs and swore I’d never move back. However, that changed when I was raising two young children. 

I returned to the area 21 years ago, which allowed my children to grow up with extended family nearby. They were close to their grandparents and great-grandmother. I sought out kindred spirits and experienced Saratoga in a new way. And I stayed.

As I’ve discovered when my meditation practice has lapsed throughout the years, sometimes the value of getting away from something is eventually realizing what it contributes to your life. Then you can return in a more intentional way, with gratitude and a sense of this is part of who I am. Returning to Saratoga Springs as an adult gave me the freedom to perceive and interact with it in different ways.

For the past 12+ years, I’ve lived on the Hudson River less than ten miles from Saratoga Springs. When I was growing up, my family didn’t engage in nature-based activities or venture out this way. It’s hard to believe I lived so close to the river all those years and never experienced it. Living on the river, I appreciate being able to visit Saratoga Springs on my terms, with plenty of breathing room from the summer tourism.

The summer of 2020, however, was different than any other summer.

A Path Back Home

Aside from working at the library and filling up my water jugs at the State Seal Spring, I tended to avoid Saratoga Springs during the summer, when it was overrun with tourists, and it was notoriously difficult to find parking. However, during the summer of 2020, both the Saratoga Performing Arts Center and the racetrack were closed to the public, so there were far fewer tourists in town. Even with more locals flocking to the parks, it was quieter than usual.

It was an invitation to explore.

The uncertainty and groundlessness of the time drew me to sources of stability, which I found in nature: birdsong, flowers coming up on schedule as they do every year, the sound of spring peepers across the river, the nighttime sky, and so much more. Nature provided a variety of anchors that awakened me from the trance of thought and brought me back to the present moment many times a day.

The geographical landmarks from my childhood called to me in ways they hadn’t before. I made frequent visits to the Saratoga Spa State Park to investigate and appreciate more deeply the natural resources that had served as the backdrop of my childhood. During 2020, I spent a lot of time on the Vale of Springs trail, which I started to regard as “the path back home”. There was something deeply comforting about returning to what had been present in the background all my life and had drawn people to the area for centuries. It gave me a sense of stability in a time that felt so unstable.

At first, I was drawn to the Geyser Island Spouter, a mineral spring that over time created a large, stage-like tufa (mineral deposit). I sat meditating at the edge of the creek on the back side of the Island Spouter, and it felt wonderful there. I loved the sound of the water and the energy in the air. Locals often speak of lithium being in the air in that area. I don’t know why the energy there felt so good, but I kept returning.

One day, I showed up and saw several people on the tufa. A park docent was standing by, and I asked if there was a special event going on because I’d never seen people on the tufa. He said it wasn’t an event, and it was okay to go on it. That was the first time I photographed the spouter up close, and the lighting was incredible. 

I went back a number of times, until eventually there was a sign saying the tufa was off-limits, to protect our natural resources. So instead of going on the tufa, I explored the sides of it from the creek: the different colors and textures. I examined and photographed practically every accessible inch of that tufa.

I was intrigued by how the mineral water transforms whatever it comes in contact with – whether rock, leaves, or people. In this spirit, I explored the other mineral springs in the park. I was introduced to the Tallulah Spring during a photography session with Hannah, a kindred spirit around my daughter’s age. I’d never noticed Tallulah before because she’s a little more tucked in. While wandering through the woods trying to find Hannah and Tallulah, I heard the sound of bagpipes in the distance, which felt otherworldly. Tallulah has since become my favorite spring.

I had been unsure about the direction I wanted to take with my “people” photography, and after photographing Hannah around the mineral springs that day, I became passionate about photographing women in harmony and spiritual connection with nature. That’s how my Women of Light photography began, with Hannah at Tallulah after hearing the sound of bagpipes in the woods.

The Saratoga Spa State Park became one of my primary refuges of 2020. I ended up taking hundreds of photographs of the mineral springs and the Vale of Springs trail. I decided to make the mineral springs the subject of my upcoming photography exhibit at the Saratoga Springs Train Station in June and July and named the exhibit A Path Back Home.

2020 put me on a path back home both literally and metaphorically…to the natural treasures of my hometown and to my truest, most awake self.

The 53 Project

Through the practice of staying and simplifying, 2020 was a year that changed the trajectory of my life. It was a year of being nurtured by nature and having the breathing room to discover a true sense of life purpose – and shift into LIVING it. Out of presence and stillness, I discovered what was most important and was drawn to the situations and people that resonated most.

I was nurtured by: walking the labyrinth in the park down the road, kayaking on the river in front of my house, exploring local parks and nature trails with my granddaughter, taking walks with my husband, photographing women in harmony with nature, and connecting with networks of kindred spirits.

I also fell more deeply in love with flowers, ferns, water lilies, herons, the way trees on the riverside appeared to be circulating light, sparkles of sunlight on the river, willows and birches, misty sunrises, the freezing river, and the swan on the river.

I wanted needed to honor all this artistically.

At the end of 2020, I intended to create a video of my favorite images from the year. At one point, I selected the images for it. However, my plate was very full, and before I knew it, February was nearly over. Perhaps that ship had sailed.

However, a few days before my March 1st birthday, an idea seized me: Why not create a visual meditation of the images that awakened my heart the year I was 53, from March 2020 through February 2021? So that’s what I did. I created two versions: one with images and background music and another that includes me reading poetry I wrote during that time period

Staying and allowing has been an amazing practice. The two greatest resources that helped me through the turbulence of 2020 were my meditation practice and spending time in nature close to home: two different ways of staying. Both were invitations to return again to what is right here and become more intimate with it. To discover and deepen the pathway back home to what is most abiding and nourishing. To stay instead of run away into distractions, for everything that arises within us and around us is a portal for awakening.

I invite you to watch the video here:

Note: The words in this version express my truth while navigating all the unfamiliar situations and challenges of 2020. If the words do not resonate with you, you might prefer the wordless version.


© 2021 Susan Meyer. All rights reserved. You are welcome to share this post or excerpts of it as long as you give proper credit to Susan Meyer and SusanTaraMeyer.com. Susan Meyer is a photographer, writer, and spiritual teacher who lives on the Hudson River in Upstate New York.

What’s Going on Inside This Heart?

What’s Going on Inside This Heart?

Here we are in the uncharted waters of December 2020. It was dark when I woke up this morning at 6:45 and checked in with my heart. What’s going on in here? What’s the weather like inside this heart?

It feels a little weary, to be honest. Weary from one encounter after another over the past several months with people I assumed were “on the same page” and seeing the world through a similar lens, only to discover that’s not the case at all.

I remember back in March when we absorbed one shockwave after another as we moved into and adjusted to shutdown mode. It feels a little like that. But this time, it’s more about digesting realities about the stories we’re buying into that have solidified throughout the year, and how to be in relationship with one another when those stories differ radically. 

I keep reminding myself we’re in uncharted territory, and everyone is doing the best they can. I try to catch myself and shake off the seductive stories before they have a chance to settle in. Daily.

Earlier this year, things were moving so fast, and it seemed every week served up a different theme. At some point, themes didn’t seem to be so much of a thing. It just felt increasingly chaotic. But now I’m feeling another theme arising. In a nutshell, it feels like our country is divided into perceptions of government/authority being either protective or controlling. Maybe that’s a huge overgeneralization. But it was what I saw when I stepped into my heart yesterday and asked the question I ask many times a day: WTF?

The theme I’m digesting now centers on rebuilding, reconnecting, and caring about people who see things very differently. How to live in a world with so much difference of opinion and clinging to compelling narratives. (Are they fact or fiction? Or a mixture of both?) How to live in a world in which it seems so many people have been drinking the Kool-Aid, so to speak. People who would think the same of me. People I’ve known and respected for a long time. And still do.

Even though I catch myself repeatedly, to have that reaction in the first place… This is new to me. It’s an adjustment, a revelation. And it’s often uncomfortable. In this heart of mine, connection is more important than being right. So I listen and try not to offend. I try to understand what’s below the beliefs and find some kind of caring beneath it all.

Sometimes it can feel overwhelming, especially if you’re a “feeling” type. And if you’re not getting enough sleep.

The Power of Presence

When we get hijacked by emotions, awareness (a.k.a. mindfulness) gives us options. This happened to me when I was driving home yesterday. Realizing I was hooked in an addictive storyline that I called out as “romanticizing”, I surveyed my options and decided I could take a deep breath and blow it out, blow it along, release what doesn’t serve. Then it wouldn’t get stuck in me like fluffy seed fairies dispersed into the air looking for a place to land and take root.

The breath can be really powerful like that. It can blow those story seeds along, saying Not Here. With mindfulness, we can notice what’s going on and choose the seeds we allow to grow in our garden and what to do about the stubborn, subterranean root and rhizome systems that started a long time ago.

With mindfulness, every moment is an opportunity to choose what’s most important and what’s best (which can change). We can choose to get stuck in a limiting personal narrative or to step out of it. We can choose to drop down into something much deeper: a field of being I call Presence.

Dropping into presence actually saves a lot of time because you realize what is and isn’t ultimately important, and a lot of stuff you thought was important just falls away. Here, fresh ideas, insights, solutions, and perspectives are accessible. And lovingkindness.

I sense that all the division we’re experiencing in the world around us at this time and confusion about who or what to believe is ultimately calling us inward, to our our deeper wisdom, which is very, very different than sorting things out in our head through thinking and analyzing or being brainwashed by media. (If you haven’t watched The Social Dilemma, I urge you to.) 

Asking for Help

When we are caught up in the lower, addictive energies of a storyline, we also can ask for help. Especially when we’re tired and don’t have the energy to drop down deeper.

One evening this week, before falling asleep I asked for help. I had gotten triggered and was having trouble getting unhooked – like when those prickly hitchhiker seeds get caught on your clothes, and it’s really hard to get them off. Authentic movement (which is a new thing for me) has become my go-to for releasing and expressing emotional energy. But I was too tired to dance or meditate that evening. So I sent out an earnest S.O.S. to Unconditional Love (spirit guides, angels, ancestors, higher self, etc.). And I ended up having a very interesting dream.

I dreamed I was able to cross the border and visit Eckhart Tolle in his home in Vancouver. We were in his living room, which was modern and spacious. I was drawn to the patterned flooring, which I found lovely. I told him I was grateful to be in his Presence (“with a capital P”), meaning the pure presence coming through him.

I woke up feeling I’d received an energy upgrade in my sleep! I felt totally different.

Then I wrote down the words going through my head and put them on the image that came to mind. 

The image is of the octagonal apex of Inner Light Lodge at Light on the Hill retreat center. I spent the past few years doing a lot of inner growth work in that building with my Hidden Treasure tribe. As I worked on the image, I noticed the roofing of the protruding structure was very similar to the flooring in my dream – which took it to another level, literally!

So we can ask for help. Help that I’ve learned is always available if we can open ourselves to it.

Step out of the storyline, drop into presence, and see what’s there. Ask for help when you need it. This is my advice for these times, which I give myself daily.

What’s the weather like inside this heart? Feels more like peace now…because the energy was channeled into these words.

May we all find constructive ways to channel and release the energies coursing through us. And inspire one another to connect with our deeper wisdom and compassion, which is so much richer than any personal or collective narrative.


© 2020 Susan Meyer. All rights reserved. You are welcome to share this post or excerpts of it as long as you give proper credit to Susan Meyer and SusanTaraMeyer.com. Susan Meyer is a photographer, writer, and spiritual teacher who lives on the Hudson River in Upstate New York.

The model pictured is Hannah Zlotnick, https://www.anandagaia.com/ .

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