On rebirth and new beginnings
Starting anew in the Big Apple
Hi friends,
Thank you all, again, for gifting my words with your time. To our new members, welcome to Inner Peace. I’m so glad you’re here.
Recently, I began a new writing job based in New York. For the first few days, I commuted through the Oculus in lower Manhattan, yards from the 9/11 Memorial. The structure represents rebirth, strength, and resilience. There is ample light, which symbolizes the light that continues to shine through after the darkness of the tragedy. You can’t help but notice the large white steel, wing-shaped tips reaching toward the sky. From below, you look up through the windows and see the Freedom Tower. It’s an inspiring place that celebrates new beginnings while honoring the past.
When I walk through the building, I try to inhale, exhale, and slow down. Amid the commuters rushing to work, often glued to their phones, I seek a reprieve. I refuse to complain about a commute, the city, or anything else. Instead, I choose gratitude — gratitude for everything. Commute on the subway? Good, more time to listen to interesting podcasts and read quality books. Must work in an office now? Good, more opportunity to brainstorm with others on collaborative ideas, learn alongside others, and explore New York.
I have realized an approach of immense gratitude cannot steer us wrong. Gratitude, gratitude, gratitude. Over and over. Gratitude for everything is my mantra of late.
In the Oculus, meditating on the beauty of the structure — the beauty of rebirth — helps me quiet the busy noise of a morning commute. I’m no architect, but there’s much to appreciate about many facets of life when you decide that you’ll view everything with a curious eye, rather than a judgment.
Later in the morning, I notice many blooming trees. Spring is here. The sun is visible between the skyscrapers. The air is fresh. One helpful meditation during the busy commute lies in really feeling each step. Being one with my steps, if you will. Noticing how my feet meet the ground. It’s a joy that we can make a short walk between our activities a spiritual experience to connect with ourselves and the Earth.
At lunch, I enjoy stepping outside for a stroll, noticing the street vendors. I enjoy racking up steps as a thank you to my body for showing up each day for me. Without our bodies, where would we live?
Last week, we celebrated Earth Day. Let each day be Earth Day. Let us take a few moments each day, perhaps in the morning, to be mindful of how miraculous our existence is, and how beautiful our planet remains. While we walk, we can be mindful of our ground (soil, grass, especially). As we walk, sit down, or stand, we can be mindful of the precious air particles we are fortunate enough to breathe in and out of our bodies. And while we look around us, we can be mindful of the natural beauty that is in each direction. It is all such a gift. I can’t help but zoom out many times a day, viewing our planet from outer space, and realizing how insignificant our mundane, everyday anxieties are.
A few things that resonated with me:
We don’t need more “successful” people:
David W. Orr, Ecological Literacy: Educating Our Children for a Sustainable World, writes: “The plain fact is that the planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these qualities have little to do with success as we have defined it.”
Lower expectations can improve mood and happiness
Here’s Charlie Munger on living a happy life: “You seem extremely happy and content. What’s your secret to living a happy life?” 98-year-old Munger was asked. His reply:
“The first rule of a happy life is low expectations. If you have unrealistic expectations, you’re going to be miserable your whole life. You want to have reasonable expectations and take life’s results good and bad as they happen with a certain amount of stoicism.”
Ben Affleck on moving on from alcoholism and divorce, via NYT:
“It’s not particularly healthy for me to obsess over the failures — the relapses — and beat myself up,” the 49-year-old actor says. “I have certainly made mistakes. I have certainly done things that I regret. But you’ve got to pick yourself up, learn from it, learn some more, try to move forward.”
With love and kindness, “dull things become cheerful”
“The kinder and the more thoughtful a person is, the more kindness he can find in other people. Kindness enriches our life; with kindness mysterious things become clear, difficult things become easy, and dull things become cheerful.” ― Leo Tolstoy, A Calendar of Wisdom
Kurt Vonnegut on feeding your soul:
Vonnegut to a high school class:
I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don't make public appearances any more because I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana.
What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow.
Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you're Count Dracula.
Here's an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don't do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don't tell anybody what you're doing. Don't show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?
Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash recepticals [sic]. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what's inside you, and you have made your soul grow.
God bless you all!
Photos of the week: The sun rises over Manhattan one morning last week. And on Saturday night, Ally and I watched the Eagles perform.
Parting question: What is something wonderful about your life that you rarely appreciate as much as you should?
Be joyful and celebrate your gifts,
Matthew