Escaping into the Quiet

By Neal Lemery

(Published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 5/18/2024)

Like other photographers, I was excited about the Northern Lights being visible in Oregon. I’d missed the first night, but I was ready the second night. I carefully set up my camera gear, getting my cameras on the right settings, and I was ready to roll.

I had the perfect spot. A comfy chair on the deck, facing north, my favorite fleece jacket, a nice cushion and an excellent view to the north. With a mug of tea in hand, I sat down for an evening of great photography and learning more about my cameras and the art of photographing the night sky.

The twilight dimmed, and I kept looking north, spying a satellite zooming through the sky and the first few stars making their appearance.

Then, the fog and clouds moved in, right on time for the big show, thickening up and blanketing what few stars that had made their appearance.

It had probably been months, if not a few years, since I had taken the time to just enjoy the night sky, and be an observer. To be, rather than do, and observe, watch. Mentally, my to do list crept in, but I willed it to leave my head, so I could concentrate on the evening stillness and be in the moment.

Gradually, I felt the stillness of the evening, and let that calm percolate within me, the only sounds being my breath and a faint breeze. I could smell the damp of the incoming fog, and the coolness of the dropping temperature. The sweet smell of the honeysuckle, the Solomon’s Seal and other spring flowers was present. I realized I hadn’t been taking the time to literally smell the flowers and appreciate the spring flowers, and the beauty of nature. I simply hadn’t noticed, hadn’t taken the time to be a part of my own back yard, to be present in my little corner of the world.

I took a few pictures, being successful in photographing a rather dull cloud bank of fog coming off the ocean, a good study of various shades of gray. I began noticing the texture, the shape, the seemingly random irregularity of the fog and the trees and hills on the horizon, silhouetted by the scattered almost light of the evening’s ambient light.

The experience was subtle, calm, with the unspoken theme of contemplation, awareness, a sense of just being present and observing. It was a simple moment, yet I was becoming aware of the complexities of the light, the dark, the various tones of this gray palette that Nature was creating in its art tonight.

“The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind.” –Albert Einstein.

I focused on my breathing, and on the slow, ever-changing tones and movement of the fog and clouds, the subtle changing of the light as the evening darkened, and the clouds grew thicker.

I found myself contemplating my creative works in progress, of working on my art with a renewed sense of purpose and meaning, of simply being in the moment with my creative energy. An overwhelming sense of fulfillment, satisfaction, of creative goodness came over me. I had no other expectation other than simply being here, in this moment, and feeling full and content.

Other photographers that night captured glorious photos of the aurora, dazzling and fantastic. I had nothing like that on my camera, yet I was still having a fabulous experience, exploring the gray subtleties of my fogged in observatory. I could mourn my missed aurora photography experience, but I had my own, rich in silence, contemplation and a celebration of the joy in life.

I found myself content, at peace, finding some time and space to contemplate life, to simply notice the honeysuckle, to appreciate its presence and its gifts to me that evening. I was in touch with my creative spirit, my sense of place and being, finding tranquility and inner peace by simply being where I was at, the observer, being the being and not the doing.

5/17/2024

Possibilities

By Neal Lemery 1/2/2024

The new year offers such potential. The new year’s calendar on the frig is already filling up, but there are plenty of empty spaces for what could lie ahead.

I try to write on the calendar in pencil, to leave open the possibilities of changing my mind, altering my schedule, and being more spontaneous. As I look back on 2023, I realize that the most fun I had, the most meaningful events were those that popped up at the last minute, that I could seize the moment and be spontaneous.

Whimsical is my word for 2024, being open to new things, new activities, new challenges, and not caring so much that I’m trying something new or challenging. I’m looking for fun and new energies, new opportunities, some new growth for myself. I want more excitement, more creative challenges. I want to be open, to be free to learn new thing, try new experiences, to feel relaxed and enjoy what lies ahead, and me simply letting go and letting be.

In my art, there’s always a contradiction. Part of me wants to be disciplined, organized, methodical. I struggle with being too obsessed with structure, predictability. Yet, I also want to honor and cultivate my creativity, my Muse. My best, most satisfying artwork comes from being in the moment, being spontaneous. Yes, being whimsical, not always following the rules of what is to be expected.

The routines in life offer me structure, organization, an easy, predicable road to follow. But the path of predictability does not always lead me to the desired result, or the beauty that I hope to express. I can easily get into a rut, of following the expected path, and not finding the river of creativity and artistry that I want to find. “Same ol, same ol” is not what I want, but the predicable “me” tends to seek that out.

I am working on being in the moment, of fanning that spark of creativity and unpredictability, that spirit of creativity that lies deep inside of me, the little boy that wants and needs to come out and play. Sometimes, I need to jump off the path and avoid predictability, of rule following. I need to honor that little boy and let myself daydream, be present the moment. To simply be the creative.

This year, this new space of what could be unlimited permission to be creative and spontaneous, awaits my exploration. I need to work at giving myself permission to let loose and to let the Muse take me where I need to wander. The challenge for me is to give myself permission to engage in the daydreaming, the spontaneity, to be less structured, more forgiving of myself and the pull of old voices telling me to just follow the rules and stay on the beaten path.

As I tell my friends, and as I need to tell myself, Onward!

The Lessons of 2023

(Published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 12/29/23

By Neal Lemery

It’s the end of the year already. The year seems to have flown by, as years tend to do. I like to be reflective, to look back and wonder what I’ve learned this year, what the lessons of life have been taught to me by the many turns and twists of the road in 2023.

The ten minute rule

I’m working on a new protocol for when I’m running my errands. I’ve realized that relationships are at the core of my life, that being around others, and truly listening to them, is an essential part of life, a core value of being a community member.

And, relationships need time. They should take priority over what I think my important and busy schedule is. At the end of the day, the quality of my interactions with others is what has really mattered, and what I did today that was important was really all about relationships.

I’m learning that when I encounter someone, I need to be patient, to take time, and to truly listen. You can learn a lot about your community and about life if you simply take the time to be present, to listen, and to exercise your empathy and compassion.

When I truly listen to someone, when I focus on what they have to say, when I take a few minutes to simply “be” and not “do”, I learn a lot, and I build community. And I have ten minutes in my day for someone, if they need it. Sometimes, I need it. Friendships are our treasures, and they need to be tended to, fed with conversation, and given the nurturing that a few minutes of conversation can bring to our lives.

I do have ten minutes in my day to spare.

The other day at the store, I found myself helping a man in a wheelchair in picking up a bag of dog treats. He was grateful for the help. At the checkout, I found myself behind him, and noticed that most of his purchases were for puppies. We struck up a conversation and I learned he had a new Christmas puppy and was out shopping for the new love in his life. He laughed and smiled, happy to talk about his Christmas, and sharing his new-found joy.

I had ten minutes with him, the best and most joyful ten minutes of my day.

Unplug and start again

Technology can be my friend, allowing me to communicate and to organize, to be productive and useful, from the comfort of home, with a hot beverage to enjoy. And technology can be the source of frustration, and the onset of feelings of incompetence, ineptness, even the use of some four-letter words.

I’m less of a techie than I sometimes think I am. One of my tried and true remedies, often as a last resort, is to turn off, unplug, wait 30 seconds, and then start over. More often than not, that little break with the device seems to reset the problem device. and eliminate the problem. I suspect that more often than not, my less than perfect tech skills are the source of the problem, but my pride keeps me from being that honest with myself.

Unplug and start again seems to work in other areas of my life as well. Taking a break, going for a walk, filling up the bird feeder, or relocating myself often works wonders for the frustrations and challenges of life. I don’t apply this remedy nearly enough, but when I do, the benefits are often immediate and productive.

I’ve been reading about the Japanese practice of “forest bathing”, which is popular in other cultures as well. A walk in the woods, or on the beach seems to be cleansing, relaxing, a purge of toxic thoughts and processes. I’m adding that practice into my reliable technique of “unplug and start again”.

Restringing

My friend and I don’t see much of each other since he moved out of town for a better job. When we do meet up, we can hold down a coffee shop table for several hours. This week, he brought his guitar which had languished in his closet for seven years. We planned to restring it, giving it new life, so he could start playing it again and teach his young daughter a few songs.

We sat around my dining room table, talking up a storm as we usually do, and began to put on new strings. We cleaned up the grit and grime on the guitar, removed the old, rusty strings, and put on new shiny strings. Like a lot of relationships, we tuned up the guitar, bringing the new strings up to pitch, and letting the guitar find its new, fresh voice. The wood responded with sweetness and harmony, much like our friendship.

That guitar will teach us about the value of time and patience, too. New strings need to “settle in”, to stretch, to develop a relationship with the wood of the guitar. Playing the guitar vibrates the wood, improving the tone and “seasoning” the guitar. Those vibrations soothe my heart, too. The benefits are abundant.

Friendships need that sometimes, to be cleaned and restrung, brought up to the proper pitch, and strummed with new energy and purpose.

Looking at Ordinary Things

I’m a photographer, and am often looking for that special photo, something out of the ordinary. But I learned again this year that my best photos occurred when I didn’t think anything spectacular was happening, that what I was seeing was just “ordinary”. When I took another look, when I paused, and really looked around, what initially seemed ordinary had a special beauty, that “special something” that needed to be the subject of my camera.

The other morning, I went outside at dawn, having noticed a pinkish sky to the east. The coming sunrise didn’t seem like much, until I stopped and waited, and looked again. There wasn’t that brilliant phosphorescent explosion on the horizon, but there was some subtle colors. I moved around, and put a Japanese maple tree covered with morning dew and the remnants of last night’s rain between me and the soft colors of the sky. Suddenly, the composition took form, with the soft colors and sparkly waterdrops becoming what I was realizing was a stellar photograph.

The lesson I took away was to wait, observe, and let the ordinary be transformed into something special.

With time and patience, something that seems unexciting, plain, even mundane, can become a moment of beauty and serenity.

As the old year fades away, I’m reminded that life so often gives us simple lessons, if we only take the time to notice.

12/28/23

Beginning

First sip comes long after

Hot water boils

Combined, brewed, steeped

A change to start the day

Only when it is ready to change into the new.

Needing time, I wait

The water

The brew

The first sips

The gathering of the pieces

That will become the creation.

I, not the creator, but the gatherer, the stirrer, the mixer,

In communion to the gods of patience and art, my ritual of the

Consecration of their blood and body of the universal creator.

Mostly mental, overcoming the barriers —

Procrastination, the inertia of idleness,

The thoughts of impossibility,

Reticence, the hesitancy to act,

To move the pencil, to give voice

To the idea, the thoughts, the spirit

Of what needs to be said, expressed,

Brought into the Light,

To come into Form,

To be shaped, given birth, to come

Alive.

Time comes, flows, moves

Changes all of it, on its own
,

When it is ready and

Not before

Its time.

2/13/22

Thoughts on Creating and Harvest

–by Neal Lemery

I’m feeling stuck. I haven’t thought I’ve been creative lately. My blog lacks a new post, my writing tablet has no new sheets filled with my penciled writing, my guitar is gathering dust and is out of tune.

Despite my self-evaluation of my idleness, I realize the creative juices are still flowing, though, in different ways. I have been busy in the kitchen, turning apples from my trees into sweet packages of apple pie filling for the coming rainy days. I’m slowly simmering the last of my tomato crop into sweet tangy sauce for hearty pasta dinners, topped off with warm apple crisp. I am savoring the richness and abundance of harvest, in all its forms.

My hands play in the dirt as I plant tree seeds for my new bonsai project, and pot up the last of the geranium cuttings that took root this summer without my close attention. The last cucumber from the garden is harvested, and the compost bin becomes filled with the remnants of the summer garden.

There is the promise of future plantings and future abundance, and I dream of guitar chords and strumming patterns, and yearn for new ideas, new expressions to be explored.

The fall rains have begun and I sit under the eaves listening to the rain music, as snippets of poems yet to be born are caught in my journal. There can be such richness in moments of silence and “just being”.

Coffee with a friend produces a rich conversation on serious topics, the few moments of silence over our cups offering fertile territory for new writings. We plow familiar ground, allowing the soil of our friendship to become fallow, preparing for a new season of fertility.

Like the season, it is a time of both harvest and of composting, turning spent plants and the last of the summer energies into the stuff that will bring forth spring explosions and summer abundance. I am reminded that the winter ahead is simply a time of rest, renewal, and needed silence and contemplation. Winter has its own noble purpose, its own role to play in the cycle of life.

Everything has its time, its season. It is a time to be patient, to rest, and to observe.

I’m not really stuck, I’m stepping back, taking a much-needed rest, absorbing the beauty and solitude of autumn, this time of transition and rest. I take a deep breath, and simply observe. And, that is celebrating my creative spirit.

I’ve recently come across these nuggets of wisdom, and they need to sit with me, without an immediate response, as I listen to the rain replenishing the soil after the summer’s heat and drought. The falling rain is an act of renewal and faith, guiding me in my own creativity and work —

“Poetry is the art of overhearing things you didn’t know you knew.

“Whatever you are looking for is just beyond yourself.”

— David Whyte (Anglo-Irish poet)

“To make life a little better for people less fortunate than you, that’s what I think a meaningful life is. One lives not just for one’s

–Ruth Bader Ginsburg

published in the Tillamook County Pioneer 9/30/21

9/29/2021

A New Start

by Neal Lemery

Organizing

Straightening, thinking through

Planning ahead

Pushing away the detritus, the distractions

Taking out the trash

Visioning the vision

Seeing the possibilities

Options for change, renewal

The essence of what could be

What could become, could evolve into.

New thoughts, new values, goals

Aspirations

Looking over the clouds

Tomorrow’s sunrise

Next year’s promise, potential

Twenty years from now

A hundred years later

Could start today

Now, this minute

A step in a new direction, on a new path

With one footprint in a different, unexpected place.

A slight alteration, deviation

Far from the norm, the usual

The predicted, the expected

The status quo—

An opportunity, today.

I just have to make that first step

Now.

8/5/2020

Moving Away From Rigidity

By Neal Lemery

I can be a very rigid thinker, following the rules, the expectations others have for me, and the expectations and boundaries I set for myself. If I am, instead, open and not following pre-set boundaries, I actually do better in life. By being independent, willing to look at different paths, different and unexpected approaches to problems and thinking, I find new possibilities.

Not that I don’t think that structure and framework are important for a purposeful, successful life. Being organized and focused is very often essential in getting the work done that needs to be done. In me, that need for structure and “rules of engagement” can often come before that additional element of doing the work, that of being spontaneous and open to the Muse and the creative process.

Others have weighed in on this dichotomy of rule-driven motivation and discipline, and spontaneous creativity.

“Men like us often had a lifestyle guided by either/or logic. We think we must either conquer the challenge we see before us or we will be failures. We think loved ones must either meet our needs or they do not love us. We think we must either be perfect, or we are unacceptable.

“Let us now step back from the rigidity of such unhealthy logic. Most of human experience and many answers to our problems don’t come in neatly tied packages. As we learn to think and feel in more flexible ways, we find life gets better. Using our intuition at times, rather than always following rigid rules for life, improves the recipe. The arrogance of our thought processes has sometimes told us we had the answer, but it closed us to growth which only comes by trusting our feelings. If we make mistakes, we can learn from them and go on. Many of the most ingenious inventions came not by rigidly following rules but by following an inner feeling.”

—Touchstones: Daily Mediations for Men, May 28

In getting out of my ruts, my “tried and true” ways of approaching a problem or a situation, I learn more about myself, and I find myself opening up, becoming the artist I want to be.

I’ve been working on a painting, trying to be spontaneous and fresh. Yet, my rules and set formulas weighed heavily on my process and my work felt heavy and cumbersome. I struggled against myself and my old patterns, trying to break away and be bold and fresh.

I decided to act “outside of the box” and try new methods. I started the painting with acrylic paint, and then, the next day, “overpainting” with oil, thinning down the colors with additional oil, and moving my brush across the canvas boldly, spontaneously mixing colors and oil with abandon, playing with the light.

The carefree voice said “Oh, give it a try.”

“What if I screw up?” the critic in my head kept saying.

I might, and I probably am. I can fix my “mistake” with a paper towel, or a dry brush, removing some paint, or rearranging what I had just painted. Besides, I thought, maybe my “mistake” is the gift of creativity and spontaneity I had been looking for in this work. Let me be bold and innovative here.

I heard a poet say the other day, as they were struggling with their poem, “Let the poem form emerge and lead you.”

Ah, let the work lead you and reveal itself to you. The creative work will find its form and will express itself. I need to give myself permission to let go and let the creation find itself and become itself – unique and a creation in and of itself. It is OK to be gentle with myself and my creative spirit.

Creating art is always a lesson in letting go, of not being in control, letting things flow and come into themselves. I can be both an observer and an instrument of the creative process, and not the final authority on what is being made here. I can give up being in control. Creating art is a meditative practice of cutting ties, going beyond boundaries and letting myself and what I am creating be unfettered by my preconceived and “absolute” limits.

When I am in that “zone” and shut down the voices of limits and rules and earlier expectations, then I really become free and move toward the artist, the whole healthy person that I am seeking to become.

These acts of creation often become powerful metaphors for me in the rest of daily life. In these acts of creation, I am learning not only about the world and the creative work that is emerging, but more important, I am learning about myself. I am learning not to be afraid of letting go and more towards becoming.

5/30/2020

Connecting and Creating

This time of quarantine, social distancing, staying home is a new order in society. Our social connections can become frayed, even severed. The many events of daily life have changed, our calendars cleared. Routines are disrupted, and we find ourselves adrift.

Staying home and apart from others is the new social expectation, a necessity to reduce the impact of this pandemic, “flattening the curve”. Staying home is seen as a medical necessity essential to health and wellbeing, a fundamental obligation to our society.

Instead of isolating, these times are times of great connectivity. Our technological lives now grow connections. We message each other more frequently, communicate more deeply, and find new ways to meet and interact. We access more books, movies, and “off-site” encounters and conversations. Our now rare trips to the grocery store and running other essential errands take on a new heightened satisfaction of interacting with others. We are important to each other, something we may have overlooked in the busyness of the pre-pandemic world.

I connect deeper with myself and my world. Tending to my garden and the young seedlings in the greenhouse takes on new importance as I witness the miracles of sprouting and growing, of new life as we move into spring. Filling up my birdfeeder gives me time to celebrate the migrations of birds and to notice their lives in this quieter, more meditative and spiritually reflective time.

The morning cup of tea takes on new meaning, giving me a welcome ritual and a time of contemplation. I am finding time to breathe and connect with my soul.

This is also a time of great creativity. Times of plagues and quarantine, while socially threatening, have led to great creations. Shakespeare wrote several of his most famous plays while in quarantine. Newton developed his theories of gravity and motion, and invented calculus.

Now the world is taking a retreat from normal routines. We have time to pause, to re-energize our creative juices, and find our quiet space to express ourselves. This is a time of renewal and re-creation of so much of what is truly human and soul-nourishing.

“Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things.” — Stephen Jobs

This is that time to connect. Go and create.

Neal Lemery 3/31/2020

Thoughts On Creativity

— Neal Lemery

— Steve Jobs

Creativity is a door to be opened, letting in fresh air, ideas to be rearranged, reordered, pursuing new ways, the old redone.

Becoming Evolving Changing Growing Progressing — a human being, not a human doing

Artist Creative Painter Musician Nurturer Convener Grower Planter Weeder Harvester Naturalist Scientist Poet Writer Observer Listener Sensate Kind Intuitive Patient Tolerant Righteous Advocate Teacher Healer Mediator Verbal Curious Student Activist Doer Changer Leader Introvert Parent Child Partner Journeyer Traveler Understanding Compassionate Inquisitive Thoughtful Watchful Mindful

Looking at it from all angles, taking a different perspective, a fresh viewpoint

Not satisfied with others’ opinions and thoughts

Asking why, again and again

Enjoying the stillness, before the answer

Not the easy way out, the obvious

Taking the road not taken

Hearing the different drummer

“…

“For what is man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way.”

Space will open up, allowing the mind to breathe, to ponder, to be still. And, in that stillness, ideas which have been floating around, coming close, can be allowed to come into me and settle, to take form, and find expression, becoming thoughts. They will find form, and allow themselves to weave and dance with other ideas, new creations, almost ready to take on a name and an identity.

“As [Stone] was growing up in rural Virginia, she would be out, working in the fields and she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape. It was like a thunderous train of air and it would come barrelling down at her over the landscape. And when she felt it coming . . . ’cause it would shake the earth under her feet, she knew she had only one thing to do at that point. That was to, in her words, “run like hell” to the house as she would be chased by this poem.

“The whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it and grab it on the page. Other times she wouldn’t be fast enough, so she would be running and running, and she wouldn’t get to the house, and the poem would barrel through her and she would miss it, and it would “continue on across the landscape looking for another poet.”

“And then there were these times, there were moments where she would almost miss it. She is running to the house and is looking for the paper and the poem passes through her. She grabs a pencil just as it’s going through her and she would reach out with her other hand and she would catch it. She would catch the poem by its tail and she would pull it backwards into her body as she was transcribing on the page. In those instances, the poem would come up on the page perfect and intact, but backwards, from the last word to the first.”

Elizabeth Gilbert, on the poet, Ruth Stone

I dare to be different, to think outside the box, or not even believe in boxes, to imagine the “unbox” or the “anti-box”. I strive to celebrate my differences, to be and act different. Just me, without the need for others, for their defining of the creative, the becoming imagined, the shaper of the creation. It is enough for all that to be within and through me; the undefinable.

The Muse will come. The Muse has come in the past, and is present, or close enough to be felt in this here and now. I am merely the provider of the space, the place, the keeper of the kindling awaiting the match.

I am often only the vessel, the instrument, the mover of the pen or the brush, the picker of the guitar, the hand, the embodiment of the vibrations, the something through which the work is passing through.

And that is enough, in a moment. I am a holder of a space, that which embraces and gives shape and movement, the true expression to that which is moving through me in a certain space and time.

February 13, 2019

Fearing Commitment

“The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.” –Anne Morriss

I’m afraid of commitment, of taking that decisive step and telling myself I can do this. With commitment comes responsibility, and the toughest of any responsibility is that I’m obligated to follow through, and what happens is on all me. I own it.

Yet, as Anne Morriss points out, there is that freedom you gain. Other tasks and activities can fall by the wayside, and I don’t have to do things that I’m really not invested in, and that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of life, the frivolous things, trivial, inconsequential.

If I am going to do something really well, with all my energy and creative talent, then I need to be completely committed, and engage my heart and my soul into the task at hand, my eye firmly focused on the goals I have set for myself.

And allow myself to be relaxed in that emotional space, to take it easy and let it flow. That’s when I’m at my best. So why not give myself permission to go to that place within me, where my creativity and spontaneity can be let loose, and thrive?

There’s that old fear, that I’m not good enough, not able enough, not competent. But, all that is on me, what I think, and what I believe about myself, my capabilities; my commitment.

I need to own it. And, when I own it, and pour my energy into it, I find myself in that state of being where my task and I become one, that what I am doing is really the essence of me, and my creative spirit.

Lately, I’ve been trying to focus on my music and my art. And, I’ve found again, and am relearning again, that when I am engaged in that work, I do best, and find the greatest satisfaction, when I am completely in the moment, completely engaged, and committed. Not only on the conscious level, but deeper, on a soulful level, subconscious, intensely internal.

I try not to listen to those old voices, the naysayers, the doom and gloomers. Instead, I need to embrace my commitment, and rejoice in that liberation.

–Neal Lemery, 11/4/2018