Every picture tells a story.  Every story has a creator.  A visit to the local art gallery revealed this when I stepped into the world of abstract photography.  It was the opening reception and many people attended to hear the artist share the story behind her artwork.

As an art teacher for many years, the artist had refined her talents to intuitively capture wonder-filled images.  From behind her camera lens, she zoomed into minute details only visible to the trained eye.  She created beautiful compositions with complimentary tones and fluid shapes that danced playfully across square sheets of metal, yielding a most luminous sheen unlike anything I had ever seen.  Her work was captivating and drew wonder from many.

Conversing with others, I quickly realized how personal interpretations yielded another level of storytelling.  Comments like: “I see a mountain in Japan”, “That looks like the surface of the moon”, and “It’s an aerial view of a dessert” triggered memories and stories of past adventures, real and fiction.  We puzzled over the original photographed object.  What could it possibly be?  Discussions with the artist revealed that some were close-up images of a rusting vehicle in various stages of decay.  Others were parts of an old billboard peeling from years of exposure to intense sun and wintry weather.  Texture was her specialty and it was evident she had a knack for capturing depth and intrigue in her pictures.

Every picture tells a story.  Every story has a creator.  Your story is your life and your perceptions form your reality.  Here is a fun exercise for testing your perception.  What do you perceive when you hear the word ‘pits’?  Take a moment to consider your answer.  Do you perceive something undesirable or seeds for tomorrow?  Do you perceive dangerous holes in the earth or your underarms, that place on your body that stimulates laughter?  Hopefully, your perception involves many different viewpoints and humour is always one of them!

When I was a young child, I used to sing a rhyme:  “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.”  From singing this repeatedly, I came to believe that rain was less than desirable for outdoor activities.  While growing up, elders affirmed this when they said, “It’s horrible out there!” and “The skies are so dreary … I just want to stay inside.”  Years of subconscious conditioning like this has led to the entrenched belief that rain dampens outdoor enjoyment.

Now in midlife, I have an inherent need to go outdoors for a walk everyday, regardless of the weather.  Since I live in an area where there is a large amount of rainfall, I have good rain gear and bundle myself up well before heading out on stormy days.  On one particular afternoon, a deluge of rain and wind sent me back for my umbrella for added protection.  I chuckle to myself every time I open up the graphic blue skies and puffy white clouds over my head.  Stepping out into the rain, the beating of raindrops on my umbrella bring me back to reality and open up my senses.

I notice the rain dancing on the pavement, streams of water flowing down the street, and puddles everywhere.  Pools of water in all shapes and sizes beckon me forth as I began to experiment, moving my boots through them at various speeds, stepping both heavily and lightly through them.  I marvel at the patterns of water my boots create.  Every step revealed an artful spray that disappeared as quickly as it was created.

Down the hill ahead of me was a raging creek.  I could hear the roar well before I reached the waters’ edge and felt the enormous surge of energy as I came closer.  I was just in time for the afternoon performance.  There was a dance going on!  Swirling eddies danced in one section, leaping falls in another, and frenzied crashing lead to calmer rivulets at the side.  The water roiled and frothed below me while raindrops tapped its’ rhythmic beat on leaves overhead, leaving them with a brilliant sheen and tiny jewel-like droplet at their tips.  I paused to take a deep breath and smell the scent of a freshly washed forest.  I merged into the experience and became one with nature.

Returning home, I was drenched from the inside out.  I felt more alive than ever, having steeped my senses with nature.  My body was neither cold nor wet, but totally enlivened.  My spirit was deeply nourished from the sensory experience rain had provided.  I proceeded to hang up my rain gear as I silently expressed gratitude for their protection.  I placed my boots by a vent and a new song came to me in that moment, “Rain, rain, beautiful rain!  Come again another day!”  I made myself a cup of hot tea and revelled in the delightful discoveries of one rainy afternoon on the west coast of British Columbia.  Life is good, even when it is pouring rain outside!    

It’s snowing outside.  As limbs of trees become heavily frosted with mother nature’s icing, sweet surprises await our discovery.  A walk in the forest revealed oddly shaped patches of pristine snow on the brown and green path before me.  Looking upwards, I noticed a hole in the forest canopy where snow drifted through.  I paused to gaze upwards through the hole, expecting the cold snow to be chilly against my face.  Surprisingly, it wasn’t as icy as I expected since the warmth of my skin quickly dissolved each flake into a cool and refreshing droplet of water.

Continuing my gaze upwards, I became aware of the many different shapes coming at me.  Some were tiny specks, others medium-sized clumps but the ones that captured my attention most were the big rectangular ones. These giants floated gracefully down, sometimes swaying back and forth like an autumn leaf drifting towards the ground.  Captured by the enormity of the large flakes, I suddenly became aware of the speed other flakes were coming down.  Some spiralled quickly while others shot down like a comet.  It amazed me how this different perspective dramatically changed my experience of falling snow.  Returning my head to an upright position, I focused my gaze straight ahead.  The falling snow seemed to change its random performance to one of perfect harmony with one another.

There is always so much more to an experience than we realize.  Consider a fresh approach, look from a different angle, and try on new perspectives.  Gaze upwards occasionally to glimpse the possibilities.  Stars and constellations await your discovery.  Those stars represent your untapped potential and constellations, the dots you connect for experiencing life in a whole new way!  Seize the wonders every moment beholds.  That is where the magic of life resides!

There is nothing more peaceful than watching snow drift gently down from the sky.  Each snowflake is unique, inspiring wonder about the cause and effect of everything around us.

Science is fascinating.  Science combined with medicine and the human body is even more fascinating.  Imagine being fully conscious as you go in for an operation.  This was what I experienced earlier this week.  Let me explain.

I had eye surgery a few days ago.  This was my first experience of a surgical procedure to correct my vision.  Over the past year, a haze from unknown sources had grown over my left eye.  The wait time for surgery was six months but because my vision had deteriorated rapidly, my case was expedited to stand-by late last week.

Surgery day came quickly and I am now 4 days into recovery.  I can now look back on my experiences and reflect objectively, noting what I did that was helpful and what was not.

The most helpful thing I did was maintain a positive attitude and open mind.  Mindfulness created the space I needed to be fully present without judgement.  Mindfulness allowed me to maintain a calm state of awareness and be an objective observer of the realities in each moment.

Surprisingly, there was no pain during the entire procedure aside from the minor discomfort I felt when local anesthetics were instilled into my eye.  Intently aware of the absence of pain, I kept my mind in a place of peace and my body calm.  There was no discomfort after the surgery either and I was fine at least until the next day when post-surgery medications brought intense pain to my eye.  That was when I mindlessly fell into the least helpful thing I did, which was allow myself to spiral downwards into emotional distress and worry.

The new anti-inflamatory eye drops caused sharp pain when instilled and worsened my vision.  I worried about irreversible damage and the possibility of complications.  My mind and heart were now racing.  Awareness of this was the turning point for bringing myself back to a state of inner calm.

I took a few deep breaths and focused on relaxing my body and letting worrisome thoughts go.  As my heart rate slowed and the tension in my head dissolved, I came to realize there was no more pain.  My mind and body were now back in peaceful harmony.  Resting here, I waited patiently for insights on what to do next.  I went to the phone and spoke to several health professionals, made an appointment with the doctor who performed the surgery, and subsequently discovered that discomfort with those particular drops is normal.  As for my blurred vision, the doctor explained that my eye was like a snow globe with floating particles when shaken up.  He recommended that I keep my head erect as much as possible to help the recovery process.

Now when I look out the window, it doesn’t matter whether there is a cloud in the sky or not.  It is snowing beautiful glorious snow.  I am watching snow drifting down right before my eyes as I rest in deep gratitude for the miracles of mindfulness!

For tips on mindfulness, visit my other blog at http://www.mindmastertraining.ca starting January 2014.

Who wants to be more miserable in life?  Apparently more people than you think.  The Vancouver Public Library recently hosted a 90 minute presentation on the topic.  Guess how many people attended. 13?  27?  52? 116? 183.5?  200?  or more??!  What do you think?

My estimate is 200 or more.  It was a packed house and many had arrived early to ensure a good seat.  Imagine that!  You may think it unusual for people to be excited about misery but we humans are a highly complex species not easily understood.

While waiting for the session to begin, we were asked to fill out an optional questionnaire, listing 3 things we could do to increase misery in our personal life.  These strategies had to be something within our control.  The presenter stated he was collecting responses for a future book he plans to write.

While pondering this question, I noticed much laughter and conversation in the room.  It appeared that this group had a lot of work to do to become more miserable!  At that moment, a well-dressed woman with crutches and only one leg entered the room.  An elderly woman offered her seat in the front row.  “No, thank you” insisted the one-legged woman as she made her way back to a seat she eyed in the second row, four chairs in from where I sat.  She flashed me a pleasant smile as I pulled my legs and body back to make room for her.  A companion followed right behind and quickly placed a cushion on her friend’s chair.  I mused at the sight of the puffy red cushion and thought it would be a good strategy for increasing happiness, not to mention comfort!

All around me, people engaged in spirited chatter.  Strangers struck up conversations with others who sat in front, behind and beside them.  Apparently people were greatly amused by the subject.  I contributed my thoughts to the conversations around me.  My strategies for increasing misery were: #1 Hang out with grumpy people.  #2 Neglect my personal needs.  #3 I can’t remember at this time, but I am sure it will come to me!

As you may have guessed, the presentation was really about how to be more happy in life.  It was confusing to experience this backwards approach to the subject.  My brain felt blocked at times, like it had been turned upside down and immersed in a cloudy solution that impaired my mind’s ability to process information.  In reality, reverse thinking is actually very good for our brain.  It clears old cobwebs and powers up neurotransmitters for those snappy synapses to fire into action!  Oh, it seems to be working now.  I recall my third strategy for increasing misery, which is to isolate myself.

According to the presenter, the top three ways to increase misery are:   #1 Perceive yourself as not good enough.  #2  Allow your emotions rule.  #3 Be like everyone else.  There you have it.  Any day that you are feeling a little bit too cheery, try one of these strategies or create your own and see what happens.  I suspect laughter will arise from this experiment.  Live life backwards for a refreshing approach to happiness!