conscious change Archives - Page 8 of 18 -

To Listen, To Connect….To Love

By Simone Lipscomb | December 2, 2013

It was below freezing when I arrived at the farm. Frost dusted delicate tendrils of dried wildflowers in open fields and glistened in the early-morning light. Everything it touched was transformed with crystalline beauty.

Many years ago I stopped bringing live trees into my home for Christmas. Instead I purchased a fake tree manufactured in China….made of plastic. Three years ago I made the decision to support local tree farmers and remove the toxic tree from my life. I realized that trees raised on farms support local farmers and can be recycled. I also thought that when harvested and put in a place of honor, they are fulfilling their destiny. But being a sensitive soul I have to harvest consciously–with appreciation and love….with tenderness.

Weeks ago I planned the excursion to Boyd Mountain Tree Farm in Waynesville, North Carolina. I would be visiting my friends in Asheville over Thanksgiving so the fraser fir farm would be on my way home. When I made the decision to invite a living tree into my home, it was Boyd Mountain that called me. I was living in Asheville at the time so it was an easy morning’s outing then. The lovely energy of the land as well as the family and staff that cares for the trees stayed in my mind so I was excited to visit once more.

Last year I went to a local tree farm near my home in coastal Alabama but found out, the morning after bringing the Leyland Cypress into my home, that I was allergic to it and had to drag it, fully decorated, out the French doors on to the screened porch where it remained over the holidays. It graced my courtyard with beauty but I missed the closeness of it.

I remember vividly the smell of fraser firs when I would drive up to Mount Mitchell or other high elevations along the Blue Ridge Parkway for sunrise photography excursions. The intoxicating aroma was amazing and I felt changed, altered from it. Scents can do that and each of us has special ones that trigger delightful memories. For me, the smell takes me back to North Carolina and I see myself standing on a high ridge overlooking mountains with fog-filled valleys. The air is crisp and I feel as if I have wings that are strong and can carry me anywhere life calls me to go.

Many emotions filled me on the frosty walk up the mountain at the tree farm. Early morning sunlight filtered through dark green branches, some still dusted with snow. The beauty touched me deeply. I felt intense gratitude for the trees and those who care for them. The frozen earth, hard beneath my boots, seemed to pull me up and up as I was drawn further into the lush limbs that reached out to brush me as I walked past.

Rather than look for a ‘perfect’ tree I simply opened my heart and listened. Letting my mind quieten, I was guided to a snow-covered tree and knew it was the one when tears began to trickle down my face. I didn’t choose the tree, it chose me. I felt the connection strongly.

I gently touched its soft, snow-covered needles and offered gratitude and a blessing for the sacrifice it was making. But very clearly I heard in my mind that fulfilling a destiny requires a sacrifice. Later I pondered the idea and realized we sacrifice our ego, a direction we were headed, a relationship, a place of residence, a job, or any number of ‘things’ as we move through life, honoring our path.

Perhaps Christmas trees have a sense of their purpose as they grow in long rows hugging the mountain. Maybe they feel the joyful emotions of children and adults who weave trails across the slope. I wonder if they know something special awaits. Do they swoon a bit after being cut and then awaken later to find something similar to the stars of heaven resting on their branches, sometimes in bright colors. And maybe then, on some level of tree consciousness, they recognize the fulfillment of their destiny as they stand as the focal point of joy and love in their chosen home.

When we open ourselves fully to life, we cannot help but fulfill our ever-unfolding destiny. Perhaps it isn’t one, final event that gives evidence of success in life but each step along the way, each opportunity we take to open our hearts to listen, to connect….to love.

Some facts about farm-grown Christmas trees:

-They are grown on American family farms and make an important economic contribution to many rural communities.

-One acre of Christmas trees provides the daily oxygen requirement for 18 people. There are 500,000 acres of Christmas trees grown in the U.S. which collectively provide oxygen for 9 million people each day. Young, fast-growing trees release more oxygen than mature forest trees.

-For every tree harvested, another one is planted to ensure a steady supply.

-Christmas tree farms support wildlife such as turkey, quail, songbirds, rabbits and deer.

-Christmas trees are an all-American renewable, recyclable resource. They can be chipped for mulch and used for building dunes at beaches.

Renaissance of the Self

By Simone Lipscomb | October 29, 2013

The use of underwater breathing apparatus was referenced in medieval codices. Then Leonardo Di Vinci used his studies of lungs and respiration to create a watertight chest bag and valve that regulated airflow that allowed individuals to breathe underwater. Wooden barrels were used as primitive diving bells in the 16th century. Then British engineer John Smeaton invented the air pump and when it was connected to the diving barrel, allowing for more air to be pumped into the barrel. Rigid diving suits appeared in the late 1800’s but weighed over 200 pounds. Fast forward to the early 1940’s and Emile Gagnan and Jacques Cousteau co-invented the modern demand regulator that pushed technology for scuba diving far from the hollow reeds used as snorkels by our ancient ancestors.

*Photo by Turtle and Ray Productions, Curacao*

Can you imagine what divers from Leonardo’s time would think of our recreational pursuit of scuba diving today?

*Photo by Ed Jackson on a cave dive with Simone Lipscomb and others*

Can you imagine what they might think of divers able to penetrate caves? The farthest I have been into a cave was one half mile but there are people who go so much further by staging dives with multiple tanks and gas mixes of helium, oxygen and nitrogen. What would Leonardo think of Tri-Mix? Or rebreathers that scrub carbon dioxide out of the air, mix the cleaned air with fresh oxygen which divers breathe again.

Another of Leonardo’s inventions was boards that kept humans upright as they walked on water. A historic attempt at stand-up paddle boards?

I wonder what he would think. I imagine him loving the advance in technology by joining me for a river paddle. Knowing the amazing mind and spirit of Leonardo Da Vinci, he’d invent something even grander than a carbon fiber and teak board and carbon fiber paddle.

He is known for his greatness and genius in mathematics, geometry, physics, engineering, anatomy, geology, botany, geography, music, sculpture, architecture and of course painting (whew). And he was known to be handsome, have strength, dexterity, brilliance, eloquence, generosity, charm, spirit and courage. I think of Da Vinci as the true Renaissance Man.

While the other guys wore long robes of somber colors he work short doublets and tights of blue and crimson velvet adorned with silver brocade. Never mind that he was born to unmarried parents who were not well-known or wealthy. This self-created man who wore wildly different attire created art and inventions we marvel at centuries later.

When my friend Phyliss sent me photographs from the “Da Vinci–Genius Inventor” in Rome, I began thinking about how humans have the capacity for such greatness, such amazing creativity as well as the capacity for such destruction. Today, as I sit at my desk in my comfortable home with the ancient live oaks draped around it protectively, the fuel rods at Fukushima are being removed by a crane. The potential for catastrophe not know before hangs by a thread of balance and timing.

Our world seems, of late, to be in a constant state of hanging-in-the-balance due to human misbehavior and ignorance. Oil spills in corn fields, in the Gulf of Mexico, in a neighborhood in Arkansas; plastic creating an island the size of Texas in the Pacific Ocean; people starving while countries spend billions of dollars in war efforts. So much darkness…such disappointment in the human species.

Yet paralleling this darkness, people of amazing light and love for the planet, for life, emerge from every country to create a better world. In Leonardo’s time, it took a some creative geniuses to bring humanity out of the Dark Ages. Today each of us is needed to bring forth our skills and talents with great passion and dedication, with wild abandon. We are called to step forward in service to our communities, to the planetary family of life. Nothing less than a renaissance of the Self is needed.

Paradise Awaits

By Simone Lipscomb | October 24, 2013

simonelipscomb (7) — *Adult Bald Eagle. Image taken last winter in Florida*

I glanced up as an eagle snatched a fish from the water and flew away. Did I just see that? I thought to myself. Ospreys are common companions on the river but a bald eagle? I was ecstatic! As I glided in raptor-bliss a snowy egret flew overhead and then a brown pelican nearly collided with me as his six foot wing span overshadowed my SUP board. “Dude!” I said aloud. Smiling, I paddled on.

Crisp air and clear blue skies, filled with beautiful birds, felt like paradise. The entire four miles was one continuous flow of beauty–an experience that opened my heart with awe and gratitude.

Osprey...image taken in Florida last winter — *Osprey…image taken in Florida last winter*

The river time started with huge schools of juvenile mullet circling and moving together as my board gently glided through their watery home. The water was so clear I could see them glancing up at me as I paddled. Occasionally one of their scales would sparkle in the morning sun and this display of rainbow light caused giggles to explode from my core. Precious life. Sacred life. So holy, so amazing.

As I paddled downriver alligator gars surfaced to breathe, turtles sunned on logs, floating pelicans carefully watched my antics. Quietness, stillness was so evident–so appreciated by this soul. When the bald eagle caught my attention by grabbing a meal, I was already blissed-out as just a few minutes earlier an osprey had passed overhead with a fish. Life was evident with every turn of my head.

The paddling meditation continued as I moved further downriver. Reaching with each stroke of the paddle, engaging my core, pulling myself to the paddle blade as it resisted the water, I felt my physical core engage like never before. Training in the Pure Barre classes I take has helped me learn to isolate core muscles and work to strengthen them. Applying what I learn in the studio to my stand up paddle board workouts feels amazing. A light bulb flashed overhead.

It was easy to see the parallel between fitness endeavors and life’s journey. By applying something I learned in a studio class to my SUP boarding, I saw how my work paid off on the river. Each stroke produced an explosion of forward momentum. Likewise, when I explore my inner life by going deeper into my emotional core, I clear out and heal old wounds thus leading to big leaps of forward momentum in life.

When we gain courage to go deeper, work deeper, the payoff is greater awareness, greater freedom. This morning I was able to see beauty and allow it to go deep within to touch my most vulnerable self. Had I been focused on worries and fretting about anything I would have missed the tremendous blessing of abundant life along the river.

Pema Chodron writes, ” The armor we erect around our soft hearts causes a lot of misery. This shield, this cocoon is just made up of thoughts that we churn out and regard as solid. In fact, this shield is made out of passing memory.” These passing memories of things that happened in the past can close us to life. As she writes, “Compassion for others begins with kindness to ourselves.” No matter what struggles and disappointments we have experienced on our life’s journey, only by choosing to let go of these painful memories can we lighten up. Letting go of ego, of the storyline of being wounded, helps us move into the present moment, the only place where happiness is found, the only place where paradise awaits.

Sacred, Holy Work

By Simone Lipscomb | October 22, 2013

Yesterday a person I haven’t seen in a while asked me what I was doing with myself these days. As I was attempting to answer she said, “Nothing? Still goofing around?” Maybe I misunderstood as I was attempting to answer her,”I’m still writing and taking photographs and generally trying to make the world a better place.” But our words intersected and I was left feeling quite strange. You see it didn’t matter who said the words…nothing…goofing around…what I heard is what I think about my life much of the time. The slap in my face comes from my own self-assessment, not from anyone else. Her words simply pried open the lid of my inner Pandora’s box.

A couple weeks ago a person I met asked what I ‘did’ and my reply? “I’m just a writer and nature photographer.” I couldn’t believe it when the words came out of my mouth. My jaw literally dropped as I caught my statement of shame and restated to her….”I am a writer and nature photographer.”

I’m just?

I stunned myself by proclaiming that the work of my life, this sacred, holy work is...just? Doing this work is following my spiritual path so why did I answer with such shame? And what’s with the snooty judgement of my life’s work?

In contemplating the words from yesterday, whether they were actually spoken aloud or my inner filters chimed in with the negative assessment of my life, I realized an old wound had circled around again and was snarling at me. It says this: Nothing I ever do is good enough. I’m not good enough so therefore everything I give to the world is unacceptable….. Old beliefs don’t die. They just quieten their chatter and slip underground when we become distracted. They lay waiting until they can slyly sneak within hearing range and softly whisper their dark, sinister messages into our innocent ears. You’re not good enough. Why do you think you can make a difference? Why don’t you give up? The spiral brings the wound around again to be healed at a deeper level.

Photo by Rebecca Droillard — *Photo by Rebecca Drouillard*

Today I was reading from a course of study and the question was asked, “What more can one give but oneself?” I thought back to yesterday’s exchange and to a couple weeks ago when I stated I was just a writer and photographer. If I am ashamed of my sacred work, how will I ever believe that what I have to offer in service will be enough? How can I be enough in relationship with the Universe, my self, a man, other people?

What am I willing to sacrifice on my spiritual path? Everything, even the old beliefs that have kept me small.

*Armondo carves stones that he places on his property in Akumal, Mexico as a way to honor the earth*

No matter what work we do, if we do it with love and surrender ourselves to it, it is sacred and holy. May we find the courage to walk our paths and seek opportunities to share ourselves with the world.

Making a Difference

By Simone Lipscomb | October 20, 2013

Several weeks ago I met my friend in the Smoky Mountains for an afternoon photography shoot. As we drove through Cades Cove we caught up with each other and shared a bit about our lives. We are both committed to our paths and want to make a difference in the world and shared our frustration at not really knowing how to do that or if what we are doing is really positively impacting the world.

A friend in Japan has been exploring how she wants to work to help make the world a better place and is frustrated as to how she can do this. She has volunteered in an elephant sanctuary and in the past has worked with marine mammal rescue but she, like others I know, wants to make a difference every day.

Over the past couple of days another friend and I have been in contact about the desire to make a difference in the world. It feels like the HID light was just turned on deep in an underwater cave. His clarity encouraged me.

A funk, for lack of a better word, has been dominating my life for the past several months. I am not sure of the origin of this downward turn. There is so much negative everything happening and the environmental issues coupled with atrocities humans perpetuate on each other have made it difficult to know what to do. After working with vigor and with passion documenting the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill and before that, in creating books of beauty and inspiration, all with the goal of making a difference, I find hundreds of books in boxes in my home…their message of beauty and hope sitting tucked away from the world. A perfect metaphor of how I feel. Despondency and feeling a loss as to what I’m really supposed to be doing with my life has been the question that occupies my mind.

The heart-friend I recently wrote of retired from over thirty years of service to his community. He was a leader as a firefighter and trained in many disciplines so he could be excellent in his work. Rookies and seasoned firefighters alike looked up to him and his valuable skills. His career of rescue work is truly inspiring. Upon retirement he wasn’t doing what he wanted to do…making a difference. It was a terrible adjustment for him as his heart is huge and his intention of service matches the size of his heart. It wasn’t until he followed his path to serve in a war-torn country that he once-again fulfilled, in his mind, his goal. He has found what he was looking for–making a difference.

We follow little breadcrumb thoughts which lead us to decisions. We act on these decisions and make changes in our lives–some are huge, some are small. We direct our energy toward the slow-growing momentum and then hope for the best. But how do we know our efforts really are making a difference? How do we maintain trust in ourselves and in our decisions? Here’s a cave-diving analogy.

Photo by Ed Jackson of me and my buddy Ray and his light in the distance

When cave diving a diver knows that caves are dark. It seems a silly statement but I cannot count the number of times I’ve been asked the question: Are underwater caves really dark? Think of the darkest, inkiest, blackest darkness and then think of it as flowing and moving around you. Yes…underwater caves are dark. So a diver takes redundant equipment into a cave–air and light. Three lights are required equipment–a primary light and two back-up lights. The primary is a very bright, strong light and the back-up lights are smaller and always contain fresh batteries.

So if I’m diving in a cave and for some reason my primary light fails, out comes a back-up light. If that fails, out comes the other back-up light. If we apply the analogy of cave diving to our lives, think of our life’s path as the primary light. We are born, we develop and learn and find our way to our path. A natural light is emitted from it as we progress. But there comes a time when we lose faith in our path, we find ourselves far from those we love, and who love us, we retire, or move to a new area, and that light wavers and then blinks out. We are left in the dark.

It’s not a happy place, this darkness. It’s difficult to orient ourselves, find our way. Which way do we go? Where is the line? Which tunnel is the way home?

When this happens we can contact a friend, one of our back-up lights, to help light our way. Sometimes the path we tread must have light from another source. When our own light seems dim, there are others who can help us see the path we have chosen. Their light can help us stay true and move forward when we have lost faith in what we do. We may come to a side tunnel in our underwater cave and the extra light may be necessary to see which way leads us home.

Some may think the primary light in cave diving is the most important but ask any cave diver who has had to deploy a back-up light or two. Those little lights are the real life-savers.

I am grateful for my heart-friend that reminded me to keep working on my path of service. His light encouraged me to stay with it, even when it feels like I am not making a difference. Sometimes I stumble along in darkness and then a ray of light comes forward to illuminate the way.

May we all be lights unto each other.

Thanks for reading. Please comment or share as you see fit.