I am encouraged by connections I am making even after the Wilderness 50 Conference. Here’s a re-blog from a new friend and kindred spirit, Bruce. Please visit the original post, as it appears that none of the TEXT that should accompany Charles Brandt’s pictures has been attached!
Another attitude might be illustrated by The Dancer metaphor. A dancer prepares for a pirouette by checking her starting position, aligning her hips and shoulders in a grounded plié – but not staying in that position so long that it causes her to lose momentum. What really prepares her to execute a graceful turn is years and years of practice leading up to the moment of action. That seems to me to be a distinctly different attitude of preparation.
© 2014, essay and photographs, Priscilla Galasso, All rights reserved
We’ve hosted Steve’s family for dinner at our place for the past 4 years. “Our Place”, however, is not just a home. It’s an online book business, which means that our inventory is stored under the same roof. That roof was replaced this year, bringing inches of old cedar pieces and dust down on top of our piles of books. It was a mess. The clean up and resorting was enormous. But Thanksgiving was the deadline: we wanted to host as usual. Piles of books, CDs, video tapes and packing materials carpeted all the rooms and stairwells in the house. We literally had to pick our way through for months. Steve took infinite trips up the narrow, steep stairs to the attic, laden with heavy boxes and stacks. But yesterday was a triumph! The place was clean, the table glistened, the food was colorfully delicious, and everyone had a great time. And Steve got to put his feet up and read aloud in Italian.
We are really getting good at team work. The next triumphant convergence will occur tomorrow, when we get together with all my children and their ‘significant otters’ for a holiday which we call ‘Galassoween’. Five couples, two generations and as many various lifestyles merge to create a feast of conversation and edible togetherness. And it will take place in the house that my daughter and her fiance have rebuilt. (see this post, “Harvesting Hope”) I’m looking forward to it! (but first, I have a lot of dishes to wash…)
We recently saw a glorious Korean film called “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring” in English. It takes place mostly in a monk’s floating temple. Inside his humble place, he has a shrine and a place to sleep. The “bedroom” is set apart by a doorway, but there are no walls. Still, every time he retires, he stands up and goes through the doorway. It would take him two crawling motions to go from his knees before the Buddha statue to his bedroll on the floor, but he never does that. The door is a reminder, a discipline, a practice, I’m sure. It represents some kind of edge or divider, and yet, all is One inside as the open space prevails. I like how this ruin recaptured that feeling. We put up our boundaries, but they are mere illusions. Or perhaps delusions. Edges are not the Truth of the world, but we cling to them nevertheless. They give our organized Western minds that compartmentalism that makes us feel secure and in control. The hazard there is that when the compartments are breached, we feel that something is “wrong”, and we become anxious…needlessly. Learning to be at peace with being open is a practice I’m following lately. 
Or to put a person in it for perspective:
I do not have any photos of what Dave Foreman calls “Man Swarm”. I shun crowds when possible. I do live with inanimate objects in number — namely books and CDs. 
scillagrace 
