conscious change Archives - Page 38 of 46 -

On Being Real

By Simone Lipscomb | October 28, 2014

Masks make me uncomfortable. Not costumed masks but those invisible masks humans create to hide the truth of their being. I suppose that’s why my photography has almost exclusively focused on nature and wildlife…until a couple of years ago.

A conversation with fellow photographer and Frog Pond Sunday Social attendee about photographing musicians made me laugh and understand something about myself. I made the comment that I was much more comfortable with animals and nature and had never photographed people too much until I began focusing on portraits of musicians. His reply–“Well, they’re not that different from animals you know.” He said it to be funny and we had a good laugh but what he said is very true.

When musicians are really in the creative groove and are connected to their source of inspiration, they appear to be in an unmasked state of being. They seem to invite the audience to witness their journey and meet them in that place from which they bring forth beauty…and magic.

SimoneLipscomb (15) — Will Kimbrough, Corky Hughes & Grayson Capps

I’m basically shy and much more comfortable alone in the woods or underwater with my cameras. I discovered, while listening and photographing Robert Randolph, why I like photographing musicians.

I connect energetically with musicians when they bring forth their gifts through performance. It’s as if I can see beyond the outer appearance to their true essence and meet them there through my photography. It’s as if we make an unspoken agreement to share that space of truth.

When I photographed Robert, I squirmed my way to the stage to see the energetic and amazing performer who had a huge crowd of people dancing. He was channeling lightning, or so it seemed. He is a pedal steel guitarist and bringer of a dynamic force to all in attendance willing to meet him. Me? I stood there with a huge smile on my face. How could I not? His smile rocked the festival. As the intensely-loud music bounced through me (I was in front of massive speakers) and I focused on him with my camera, I understood my love of photographing musicians while they are playing.

Live music is one of the rare experiences where we can see humans engaged in the creative process. Musicians that are truly in their happy place allow their masks to fall away to expose a truer self. That’s probably what separates the really great musicians from the good ones…a willingness to tap into a higher expression of who they are in front of an audience. That’s no small thing. And that’s probably why I think of these same musicians as being like ministers….leaders who invite us all to a deeper yet higher place.

When I am standing in a river photographing elk headed straight for me, I feel a similar emotion as I do when photographing an expressive musician. I am much more comfortable with elk and other forms of nature but that’s because I don’t create a mask when I’m in nature or surrounded by animals.

Musicians are teaching me to shed my masks and meet them in the truth of the moment, where music melts walls of division and creates harmony of spirit.

Finding Peace in a Broken World

By Simone Lipscomb | September 14, 2014

This morning I read a Facebook post that included a long list of what politicians and oil companies have planned for the Mobile, Alabama area. After reading about the super-tankers that would carry Canadian tar sands oil from Mobile to China and all that would be done to accommodate these carriers of dirty, poisonous, toxic nastiness, I felt myself…my entire being…sort of give up. It was as if something snuffed the light of hope out. How can we continue on the path we are on without disastrous and dire consequences? The all-too-familiar question bounced around in my head.

There was no answer, no comfort–no warm, supportive, comforting arms to embrace me and no voice saying, “It’s gonna be okay.” Alone with my despair, grief and frustration I turned to a tool I use to unravel confusion…writing.

I grabbed my laptop and headed to the hammock swing on the back porch. The grandmother oak tree stands silently yet filled with life: birds twittering, squirrels hopping and leaping, insects droning. Water is splashing in the little pond where a large, quartz crystal sits in the center holding a quiet presence among the ferns and flowers and banana plant. Live oak tree leaves shimmer in the morning light against a blue sky and rays of sunlight find their way through the thick canopy, illuminating moss-covered pavers. Birdsong fills the air…cardinals, wrens, titmice, chickadees all bringing me back to this present moment, this sacred moment.

Living only in the darkness of the possible, disastrous what-ifs is a sure way to drive myself crazy…or at the very least isolate from everything in a quiet corner of a deeply wooded, protected (is there such a place) corner of beauty. While the idea of being a hermit is enticing, it would be self-serving. And let’s face it, this is not the time to hide our light. This is the time to sparkle and let our inner light shine brightly.

While it is easy to become overwhelmed with everything that’s wrong and could potentially destroy life as we know it, we must balance that darkness with good, with light…with what is right. Now is the time to share our voices, our talents, and skills with the planet. There is no more precious gift we can offer than our own light.

This day I am grateful for birdsong, the grandmother oak tree who shelters my home, my cat friends, the wind gently moving the wind chimes to song, my recent re-wilding retreat to the mountains and the awareness that others create in their efforts to let us know what is happening to our beautiful planet….to us.

We can balance the darkness with light, the sadness with joy, and fear with courage. We do this through consciously caring for ourselves and finding peace within our hearts…even when it’s not easy to find in the world.

Staying Open

By Simone Lipscomb | August 24, 2014

Today was the last day of sunrise sea turtle patrol for me but I was fortunate in that I got to sub for another team member on Friday so two sunrises on the beach this week. And that’s when it started…two days ago…a nagging question.

Six o’clock found me struggling through soft, white sand as I walked the mile and a half route. It was a lovely morning with the Gulf of Mexico sending small, sweet waves onto the shore but I felt nothing. And I noticed that nothingness. It surprised me. Usually I’m in tune with the salt water and happy vibes are pouring out from my heart and mind but that day it felt like a vacuum where my heart was. I couldn’t connect.

It bothered me and as I walked I pondered that feeling of the ‘booooinnng’…like the beauty and light and delight bouncing off a closed door. Why am I closed? What’s happening, I wondered. So I journeyed inward and explored a bit.

I felt the sea reaching out with her watery fingers, trying to find an answering response from me but I remained shut down, distracted. My mind wandered and found a question: Am I closed down because of fear? Do I fear losing this beauty and so I’m acting like it’s already gone?

And then I wondered if we do that with each other. Do we allow fear to close our hearts and minds rather than remain open? Is this what keeps us from connecting with friends, lovers, partners? Are we so afraid of getting hurt that we refuse to open our hearts?

Today’s walk was better but if felt like I was in quick sand. The fluffy sand seemed to suck my feet so I stopped several times and just stared out over the water. What’s happening? I’m strong and fit so why is this so difficult?

During one of my pauses I thought of the list of sad things happening to and on our planet: Hurricanes in the Pacific, tropical storm in the Atlantic, earthquake in California, volcano erupting in Iceland, ebola in Africa, Russia invading a sister country, Israel bombing apartments and schools in the Gaza strip, the Middle East about to go up in flames, fracking by the fossil fuel industry, oil spill fallout in wildlife species, police officers shooting unarmed kids, people fighting each other over other violence…..dear God…how are any of us sane? And I don’t watch the news….this list is simply from an occasional view of NPR news.

I realized that part of my not connecting to nature is a deep concern that we’re basically going to reach a tipping point from which we cannot recover. The emotional toll of the BP oil spill was gruesome in my life yet I clearly see what can happen if we stay closed and refuse to work together for solutions…for the environment, social ills, violence. Closing myself off is a protection. But it does nothing to make positive change.

It’s difficult keeping an open heart and mind when it appears as if everything is failing; yet, there is no more important time to be open and allowing of the connection between myself and nature, myself and others than now. The challenge we all face is staying open when nothing is scarier. Now is the time for courage. It is the time for love and open hearts…and minds. How can we create a safe place to be open?

Making Peace with the River

By Simone Lipscomb | August 2, 2014

The only ripples on the surface of the water were those created by mullet, alligator gars and other fish schooling. The mirror-like river seemed to breathe peace. A few months ago it was a raging torrent that brought terrible destruction that created fear and chaos but today it invited me to reconnect, to dance…to renew friendship.

As I paddled my SUP board, the carbon fiber blade sliced through liquid reflections of clouds and I felt emotions arise that took me back to that scary night when the docile river became a viciously flowing white-water river that raced through yards, homes…though lives. I realized my reluctance to paddle these many weeks since then was due to resentment or distrust I had towards the river. I had trusted it completely and then it seemed to go berserk.

Of course, it’s irrational to resent a force of nature. It wasn’t responsible for paving over acres of land in nearby towns that causes water to run off the surface rather than soak into the ground. This quaint waterway didn’t cause two feet of rain to fall in 24 hours nor did it fill itself in with sediment from development erosion. The river didn’t do any of this….it’s just a river that reacted to an event.

As I pondered the resentment and distrust I felt, I realized how closely the river mirrors my life. Recently I’ve been journeying deep within to simply listen to what I say to myself, what thoughts I think and repeat. It has not been easy. I have felt the effects of a near silent destructive force of negative self-talk. As well, my perfectionism has been a dark force in life that, at times, feels like a ton of baggage that weighs down some of my most creative ideas and endeavors.

While I want to feel that calm, beautiful peace within, there are times when it feels like a river raging through my innermost calm. Sometimes a little extra force is good but when it becomes destructive it isn’t good or beneficial.

Perhaps it takes an inner storm every once in a while to clear out what’s no longer serving the higher purpose of life; however, it’s probably much wiser to avoid creating situations that produce such intensive experiences. For instance, don’t pave over or ignore emotions as they tend to build up and become bigger than if allowed regular expression. Don’t ignore the negative self-talk that can quite literally keep us stuck, mired in self-doubt and fear. And maybe most important…be kind and compassionate to ourselves.

Today as I paddled in the early-morning calm, I made peace with the river; I made peace with myself.