... And I decide the Sea.

Taking a break from my Perma-culture Internship, I headed to Victoria. Over an incredible salmon-eggs-Benny at the Chateau Victoria, I noticed a few ships in the harbour: the exact kind I had sailed upon during Jr. High, aboard the SALTS program. I had a few hours to spare, so I grabbed my camera to get up close again to these two-masted beauties, knowing full-well how 'the Ship,' has become a central metaphor for my understanding of the human psyche.

I discovered Dr. Paul Debransky's "Mind OS" system several years ago now, and have found his visual model extremely useful in navigating not only the day-to-day, but also for making large decisions. In time, I recognised a parallel between his three axes, and how a ship operates.

The emotions, I parallel to the mast and sails of the ship: some emotions fly above you, out of control, others come from way below, travelling vertical and downwards through our body. At the extremes of the scale, elation and depression alone denote this vertical movement. Standing on the mid-deck, though, one has a sense of security, of happiness and well being. Dr. Paul goes into tremendous detail on the two emotional spectra, positive and negative, so I find here the double mast ships to reflect which 'pole' one can be gravitating toward.

I believe I was all of fourteen years old on this sailing voyage, and I spent most (if not all) my spare time in the Robin's nest; and getting up there was an enjoyable challenge. We would tie a rope around our waist - having studied all kinds of knots - and clip ourselves onto the rope-ladder with each step until we climbed to the top. For some odd reason, I was the only one who really enjoyed it up there... I remember - so clearly - seeing a seal, far into the distance: The afternoon was sunny, and I sent out my imagination for miles and nautical miles upon all the diamonds... conjured up by wind and sunlight sparkling on the sea(!) It was perhaps one of my earliest experiences in a very consciously chosen Mindfulness state....

As I took this picture of the mast, I was thinking of how tangled a person can become, navigating the emotions we are all sway to, and I remember clearly, also, falling near-dead asleep below in the bunks. My assigned bunk was right foremost into the bow of the boat, so it was very dark and isolated. I had to crawl over one bed through a narrow opening, sleeping right at the that front tip in the bow, just below the deck, where gracefully I was rocked to sleep each night by the living ocean. I learned of bioluminescence on night watch, and funnily, it was my principle whose bunk I had to crawl through to get to mine! 

This 'nap,' had me out like a light for the better part of the afternoon. I missed lunch, and upon waking I had an incredible headache - probably one of my first migraines - and crawling out from the dark recess took a seeming eternity. I had missed an on-board class too, which I believe cost me the end exam... I was having such trouble in school that year, and though I failed the section on 'Sea-Faring Right-of-Way,' I still passed, and the overall experience continues to prove both memorable and formative. How interesting: my elation in the Robin's Nest, and how terrible my mind having extended my time "below."

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Later, returning to the Chateau, I discovered a whale tour with this incredible jaw-bone: also a reminder of how our imagination can intensify emotions. Through Mindfulness meditation, we can understand and harness that exact energy to befriend emotion, and the emotion in others, avoiding Gilligan's "three hour tour." 

I am an advocate for Marshall Rosenberg's 'Non-Violent Communication,' whose content is better reflected in the title "Compassionate Communication." As emotion, when recognised, isn't as scary as we might otherwise imagine.

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The intellect, I parallel to the oars of a boat. On these particular ships, there are no oars. Life-boats, yes, but a complete dearth of Viking action. Dr. Paul calls the complimentary halves of the intellect 'book smarts,' and 'street smarts.' I found that the side-to-side - steering - aspect of the ship mirrors this movement: at some point the 'people' on one side of the boat are going to over-power the people on the other side, and so too with your knowledge. Sometimes you'll need hard facts to navigate what lies before you, and at other times you'll need a clear, more intuitive sense for the situation at hand. When both sides are rowing in tandem, one has a feeling of control, or, as Dr. Paul suggests, of success. 

Finally, I parallel Dr. Paul's decision making with the length of the ship, the keel from bow to stern: consciousness is out in front of us, while our intuition speaks to us from behind - sometimes each at a distance. The balance point between the two, Dr. Paul claims as being wisdom.

Each balance point on each of the three axes arrives at a common central point. Balanced emotions bring us happiness, a balanced intellect (or perspective) moves us toward success, and any balanced decision enhances our wisdom. 

Happiness, Success, and Wisdom: each then are we captain of our own vessel. Standing upon the ship-deck, centred, we are able to navigate our lives effectively. I captured it once in a poem to a now former lover:

decisions: the keel

sails: the emotions

oars: to know the water

and understand the waves

three axes, intersect finely above deck

in the mind of the shipwright

...  

The title of this blog post derives from a different poem I wrote in my "Book of Gardens: I Ching inspired Eco-Theology," based on hexagram number 60, "Regulation." Regulation is a time described within I Ching of finding "joy within danger," which I find to be a fine metaphor for the day-to-day. Conscious awareness of one's own emotions - top to bottom - while navigating the world of emotions in others is clearly one of the giant joys in life - if one chooses it as joy. Certainly this day to wander downtown Victoria brought out much much elation, well harboured in my memory.

Dr. Paul Debransky is a very eloquent speaker and writer, and his years in the psychology profession have brought him to a place of very mature compassion. I have listened to him speak on pod casts countless times, until his visual model embedded itself into my daily knowing. I highly recommend his work, and it is tailored for Men. As I wandered along the Victoria Harbour, I felt so elated about the things I have learned thus far in life. I spoke to some of the youngsters about to depart on their first sea-faring trip, to let them know such an adventure was a true highlight of my life. 

It was wonderful to have that elation overtake me again. I am amazed at just how completely 'the Ship' continues to resonate with me.

Do We Have It Easy?

Paved roads everywhere; diet modification as per the fashion of the day; food whenever we want; cheap everything from China (for a little while longer) cars, phones, and pleasure, pleasure everywhere...

Don't get me wrong... I am grateful for it all. I recognise that my degree of privilege includes being critical of my privilege. However, I'd like to look at the fine balance which keeps many upon that treacherous edge of addiction and over-consumption.

It's easy to imagine a person addicted to say, buying shoes, so I'd like to take the idea of 'purchasing' a little deeper into the realm of thoughts. Imagine that each thought we create is like a kind of financial transaction, and in so doing, ask: what am I purchasing with this thought? What am I agreeing to be responsible for by following through on this 'transaction?' 

"Heathrow Mindfulness..."

If you find that to be labyrinthine - don't worry - as watching ones thoughts is much like a foreign exercise. It is much different that following ones thoughts. If you have a good pot of tea nearby, I think you'll get along much farther, and it would be my hope that you experience that dreaded word - discipline - as something which is instead both gentle and loving.

Just as an example: I'm currently staying with two lovely-hearted pups in the Kootenays. Last night while trying to sleep, and again this morning, these two free spirits were joining in with the wilderness chorus: barking at birds, barking at squirrels, barking at the fog, barking at their own breath... if they were "barking for cancer" we'd have a billion dollars raised by 2pm.

Now, for my money, discipline is a stoic beauty; and airspace, is noise-space, even on the solitude of a mountaintop. To know, and love, solitude, is to hear it... One of the greatest joys I've ever known is a true and complete silence - like listening to trees breathe on a windless day - and I would listen to such a movement non-stop if I didn't have to break for tea, food, bathing, and tending to the fire. Certainly the mind is "lively," and when we match our mind to our potential (Thomas Cleary), there is something Other which moves in tandem with us.

So too with these pups. And so too with our sense of self. Mindfulness is constant abiding, standing in contrast to the over-consumptive norm. And yes, it involves a little (gentle) discipline. Where there is sentience, there lay the seeds of Mindfulness.

Discipline is that thing which guides us whether we want it to or not. Some are very disciplined in being un-disciplined. Truly! However: discipline is the rudder to the ship, the keel to the waves, the sail holding the wind, and the bow pointing toward our visions. It gives our lives form. Regardless of the knowledge that 'we are all one,' and so-forth, our bodies do travel through this time contained to our form, and needing to interact with other things of form. We are interdependent at best - for the time being - yet I would argue that our course is better-made by a little prior preparation (photo source)

One can easily argue formlessness an equal pursuit of Mindfulness. However, without a practise to support this aspect of mind - this way of observing oneself with the world - there are truly many dangers. Becoming a total blockhead, for starters, and then, falling into oblivion.

I have found one beauty which is a close second to the radiant silence of the mountainside, and that is a wonder-filled pup who knows his or her place. A pup always wishes to do the right thing. Always. Those big brown eyes looking up to us always reveal the mind of their inner-puppy, up until we give them our constant and loving guidance. If we ourselves are disciplined with them, they grow into the very things which we do feed them.

To illustrate: I once ate an entire steak at a fireside with a beautiful big black lab beside me. There were all kinds of opportunities for me to loose that steak, as I was sitting in a lawn chair, dinner in my lap. "Happy," as the pup was named, didn't budge. He never once begged: never once whined, never once hunted about for scraps. He kept me good company, and kept watch on the fire and what may have come upon us from outside the fire's circle.


Happy, was Zen.

Odin & MacKenzie

Discipline's finest, is cooperation. It is an appreciation of self, and where we might travel aboard that self. And such was that time by the fireside with Happy, a place to travel. Discipline creates an interdependence not only with each other, but also with our higher selves. Our visions for our lives are a guaranteed beauty, and when we arrive to our place, so much of that scattered liveliness simply falls away from the forefront of our minds. Our wishing and hopes see the way through any turmoil given -when given a chance to be heard - and when we stand tall upon the deck of our own sea-faring vessel, each moment asks of us for greater degrees of navigation. It is impossible to steer the ship with any confidence or safety from the crows-nest...

I see too many young people lost at sea today and my heart goes out to them, as I myself have spent many months tossed about by waves, having believed oblivion, enlightenment. Though this is clearly not the exercise of Mindfulness, such a time to wander may be necessary when one leaves a nest. Our spirit's best health needs constant tending lest we allow ourselves to sink into anything less than a pleasurable alertness; and often, the arising youth within us needs a good long walk. Death by pleasure and wonder is just as much the prison as anything, and by such I am an advocate of little daily inner housekeepings - themselves a pleasure.

These beautiful pups know that every chirp and squeak in the forest is not a true danger, but their barks say otherwise, revealing a restless state of mind. The same way coughing in the theatre can be contagious, so too do the dogs in the valley set one another off. No doubt the small pleasures feel hilarious - and certainly 'squirrel-versus-dog' is a grand way to let off steam and have a good laugh - but without being able to return to a steady presence, a mindfulness in action, we miss out on the larger, grander, pleasures to be found within our time.


Steadiness in silence has been key for me. It is so rare to find such in ourselves or in the world, but we are given one chance here, so far as I can tell: One chance in this body and mind to uncover something of true wonder for ourselves. All the forms of pleasure in the universe do not combined reveal it, and yet its invitation does not cease for our seeing it.

Kindly and with love I wish for you regular and resolute periods of great calm.

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