We see the light of the sun scattering inside our lens.
Our lens — the one in our camera, or eyeball, or mind’s eye — has all kinds of internal inconsistencies.
When the sun’s light scatters inside our lens, what we’re seeing is a reflection of the properties of our lens, rather than the sun itself.
So when we look at the sun, what we really see is a metaphor.
We see the changing of the seasons.
We see the rolling of the earth.
We see the spinning of the stars.
We see religion and science dancing together.
We see the opportunity to grow a garden.
We see the risk of being burned.
Today I closed my eyes and decided just to feel the sun directly.
What I felt was a blessing.
What I felt was love.
“So you see, imagination needs moodling – long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering.”
In most endeavors, the main differentiator is creativity. Creativity requires that we — at least once in a while — no really, please — can we just — yes, there you go — relax.
When to relax?
- When we’re doing the same thing and getting tired of it.
- When we get tired of doing that thing before even starting it.
- When we notice that too many other people are doing that thing now and doing it in an almost formulaic manner.
We may notice that doing that thing — that thing which once seemed meaningful and special — suddenly seems rote and ordinary. The groove is so deeply ingrained, so predetermined and obvious, that we cannot tolerate moving along within it.
The only thing worse than being caught in your own rut is to be caught in someone else’s rut.
When we notice that rut, it’s a clue that it’s time for us to put down our pen/pencil/paintbrush/pixel-pushing device and go for a walk. Off course, of course.
Take a leisurely stroll through open space and unprogrammed time.
Wander in the wilderness and glance across at other seekers along the way.
“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.”
– John Ruskin
Sublime (adj.) 1580s, “expressing lofty ideas in an elevated manner,” from Middle French sublime (15c.), or directly from Latin sublimis “uplifted, high, borne aloft, lofty, exalted, eminent, distinguished,” possibly originally “sloping up to the lintel,” from sub “up to” + limen “lintel, threshold, sill” (see limit (n.)).The sublime (n.) “the sublime part of anything, that which is stately or imposing” is from 1670s.
– from the Online Etymology Dictionary
Giant snowbanks pile up with geological strata of precipitation and street grime. Their surfaces evaporate directly into thin air, leaving behind fantastic fractal landscapes.
Freeze. Thaw. Plow. Evaporate. Melt. Shovel. Freeze. Snow. Evaporate again.
The sun carves sculptures out of ice and air.
“Sublimation is part of the royal art where the true gold is made. (…) It is not a voluntary and forcible channeling of instinct into a spurious field of application, but an alchymical transformation for which fire and prima materia are needed.”
– Carl Jung
The snow and ice crystals capture dirt and then evaporate, forming a crusty layer of grit that compresses back down into the earth. As we live and breathe, so do we compress our experiences and impulses into acts of creation.
Some of these snowbanks are like dirty air filters, overused through a long winter.
It’s the pure stuff that sublimates. The rest of it lingers and melts into oil slick.
Come on, it’s time to put this winter away, already.
Darkness begone. Spring forward into the light.
Underneath the dreamy pleasure of sunny freeze-thaw icicles trimming a snow-laden roof, there lays the nightmarish pain of ice dams and massive interior water damage.
Sharp, sparkling rows of glass stalactites may look ornate and perfect, but to be managed well, they require a firm hand. The dam must be broken.
Dam – n. – A large reservoir of stuff trapped inside a person’s psyche: ideas, energy, and aspirations; concerns, criteria and conditions; wants, desires and passions. Normally these feed in and flow out reliably. However from time to time the floodgate gets frozen shut and a self-reinforcing build-up occurs. As the blockage persists, intervention becomes increasingly necessary.
The first rule of being an Ice Dam Master (or Mistress): At first, you will fail. You will not completely subdue the ice dam. You will also cause physical damage to the building and possibly to yourself as the intervener.
This does not diminish you – in fact it provides you with the starting point of your credibility. Know that the vast majority of people won’t even step up and try their hand. They’ll call you crazy, but pay them no heed. The title ‘Master’ is one that is continually earned, continually improved upon.
There is a difference between being ‘dominant’ and being ‘domineering.’ The icy core of confidence is a deep sense of humility and fearlessness. True confidence is a big part of that difference.
There is also the critical difference of having compassion and a purpose that is greater than yourself. A compassionate, purposeful focus on others makes (almost) all the difference.
As you sculpt the ice and strip away its unnecessary blockages,
know that it does those things for you, too.