Tag Archives: Buddhism

Look to Beauty

English: Buddhist statue inside a Temple in Xi'an
 

Buddhists say, “Life is suffering.” They advise us, to accept what is so. 

Knowing life is suffering and that life is also more, than suffering, (after all, I am a glass is half full, kinda gal), I accept what is.  However, it seems lately, that not a week goes by, that I don’t hear from a friend who’s been diagnosed with cancer, or a friend who struggles with an aging parent, or a friend, in tears, whos teenager is on drugs, on the road to ruin.  When tragedy hits, when sorrow comes and there are no words, I look to beauty.  I look to beauty to counter the underbelly currents of life, that are overwhelming at times, ever-present in the every day.  I look to beauty to make sense of it all, the good, the bad, the ugly.

I sigh. I breathe.  I move.  I move into the day, only to see a Cooper’s hawk driving home from school.  My son and I stop the car, and marvel quietly, at this beautiful, wild, wild bird in perfect pose.  Here he is in living color, up-close and personal.

Cooper's Hawk on feeder

There simply are no words to describe this bird wonder, only silence, awe, stillness.

Knowing, in this life, there is little we control, I find comfort, solace and natural happiness, watching this free bird dangle on the feeder and then, take flight. 

I get ‘giddy happy’ when the garlic cloves we planted in the garden, start to poke their little green heads out of the ground.  

I smile when the paper whites, yellow daffodils, and Amaryllis start to open when they were once mere bulbs, then poof, like magic, they appear in full bloom.

English: Amaryllis

At every stage of life, I must remember my beauty, nature’s beauty.  At every stage of our lives, we must remember our beauty.  And the eternal beauty we seed in the hearts of our loved ones.

Bloom Where You’re Planted

I drove up and down Highway 12 yesterday from Sonoma to Santa Rosa in the early morning of the day.  As the hot sun blazed over miles and miles of green lush vineyard, I set my eyes on this exquisite region that is the wine country. 

I traveled by a number of architectural beauties, historic wineries, ones I have visited in the past, yet marveled once more at their stunning settings.  There was the mission styled St. Francis Winery with its majestic mountain backdrop and breathtaking views of vineyards; The windswept Kunde Estate combining a sense of elegance with a real sense of place inside 1850 acres of rich farm land; and Ledson’s must-see French Normandy Castle with its cathedral windows, sweeping staircases, marbled fireplaces, and coffered ceilings.

I thought to myself, I live in the wine country that is visited by millions of people from around the world each year.  Sonoma becomes their premier choice to vacation, to indulge their senses in varietal wine and culinary delights, to feed and restore their souls in nature.  This is my country, but do I really appreciate its rich offerings? 

I came across a relevant quote by French novelist, Marcel Proust, who wrote, “When I went to Venice, I found that my dream had become incredibly, but quite simply — my address.”

I, like Proust could easily call Venice, my home, my address (I love that city!), but I can also, quite simply call Sonoma, my dream, my home, my address. 

It is here, that I walk through the back country roads, cook up homemade Italian– Argentine recipes, garden long amongst the flowers, drink the nectar of the Gods–our own wine, write dutifully onto the page the details of my daily existence, to savor and taste the finer things that this lush life has to offer.