Okay, it's official: I am completely obsessed with taking close-up photos of bugs. Where I once would squeamishly scurry for a tissue to squish them and put them out of my misery, I now run lickety-split for my Olloclip, a handy-dandy little three-in-one lens system that snaps right onto my iPhone. Its macro lens gets me even closer than my cheapo-but-champion macro lens on my Canon Digital Rebel (instead of three inches away, I'm now a mere half-inch away). Of course, with this increased degree of magnification, I have to stay (as Elmer Fudd would put it) "vewy, vewy quiet" and very, very still, or the whole scene goes blurry and is worthless--unless you like the blurry effect, which I sometimes do.
Aside from opening up whole new mini-worlds to me, and aside from helping me to practice mindfulness and mastering the moment, macro photography is teaching me everyday lessons in compassion. I don't want to get too "Dalai Lama" on you, but when I can see super-up-close what a bug is doing just to protect itself (like a roly-poly bug curling up into a tight little ball until it resembles a smooth pebble, or the millipede above, spiraling itself into a sleek, black-and-copper armor), I can't help but feel sorry for it. So, after I'm done with our photo sessions, I transport "the models" outside to the nearest bush.
Even the occasional housefly has gotten into my good graces! Where once I was called "The Fly Ninja" and could fell any fly with one deft strike, I now study their wings like a mad scientist in a lab. The photo of the fly at the top of this post is completely unretouched (except for the added copyright text). Can you believe how the crimson red and deep gold of the fly's body plays off of that leaf? Call me crazy, but I actually think it's pretty! Just be thankful that I spared you the photo of the house centipede and its many articulated legs in high-def. I loved it, but I know we must take these bug-celebrating measures in baby steps...
I can't help thinking that all of this intense studying of tiny creatures is some sort of lesson from one of Aesop's Fables--something to the tune of "Look closer at what you fear until you fear it no longer." Or: "Study what disgusts you until you find the beauty in it." Maybe it's a lesson for today's politicians? Kidding aside, while I was snapping these photos, I couldn't help thinking of a rather existential quote from author Toni Morrison: "Birth, life, and death--each took place on the hidden side of a leaf."
So, just for today, look closer. And then, edge closer still.
Food for Thought: Have you ever had a complete turn-around about something you used to despise? Are you able to see the beauty in any creatures that others think are ugly?
While I was away on my Vineyard vacation, I got the lovely news that Cher at the always-inspiring Radical Farmwives and her co-bloggers, Robin and Coree, had nominated this very blog for a Liebster Award. "What on earth is a Liebster and why is it an award?" Good question--and one I asked myself! In a nutshell: A Liebster Award is a shout-out to a favorite fellow blogger who is new (or new-ish)--somebody you think deserves a bigger spotlight. You ask them 10 questions and then they pass on the "blog love" to their own favorites with 10 questions of their own. (If you delight in reading rules, you can click on one of the related articles at the bottom which explains the Liebster Award in glorious detail.)
Here are my answers (JG=Joyfully Green) to the questions from Radical Farmwives (RF):
RF: Do you read fiction or non-fiction?
JG: Both. I'm one of those people who's always leap-frogging among several books at a time. Currently, I'm reading The History of Love, Sleep Thieves, and Simplicity Parenting (again). Usually, I'm also reading something by Thomas Hardy, Edith Wharton, Jane Austen, or Henry James, four of my faves. And I'm forever thumbing through my copies of Walden and The Wind in the Willows (my favorite children's book).
RF: What do you eat for breakfast?
JG: I often skip lunch altogether, but I could eat breakfast foods 24/7. As I said in my post called Busy Bees and a Lesson in Patience, I'm currently on a kick of oatnut toast topped with chocolate hazelnut spread and seasonal fruit. Not the healthiest with the spread, but I just pretend I'm being "very French" by having chocolate on bread for breakfast!
RF: What is your favorite tree?
JG: Any tree that's a survivor. A few months back, I wrote about a pear tree in our yard that looks like a big, lopsided Valentine because it has survived quite a few horrible brushes with the weather. I love that tree, but fear for it in every storm.
RF: How long can you go without checking your phone or email?
JG: Phone: Days. Email: Minutes. I haven't been into phone chatting since my early teens, but I'm fairly obsessive about checking email, especially since I started blogging last year. (I'm working on controlling the addiction.)
RF: What is your favorite body of water?
JG: The Dead Sea in Israel. Without a doubt, floating on the Dead Sea was the most relaxing hour of my entire life. (You can see some lovely shots of our Israel trip, here.)
RF: Name a place you haven’t been that you would like to go.
JG: New Zealand. Opportunities for amazing landscape photos and a chance to bump into the genius who is Neil Finn (tragically under-rated in this country).
RF: Do you feel like you are living in the most appropriate time period for your personality/values?
JG: Probably. I gravitate to books about England and New York in the mid-1800's to early 1900's, but I know I'd hate the (lack of) hygiene and the corsets. Plus, as I learned when I read Garbage Land, until the early 1890's, there were roughly 100,000 wild pigs that roamed the streets of New York and lived on the garbage thrown out the windows! (And I thought the rats were bad when I lived there...)
RF: If you could invite anyone to join you for a dinner party, who would it be?
JG: I would need to have a very, very big dinner party because I couldn't choose just one person for this question. If they were still alive: Henry David Thoreau, Leonardo da Vinci, my parents, and my grandparents. Alive: Cory Booker (saw him speak in our town--the man will be President someday, you can put money on it); Guy Kawasaki (saw him speak at BlogHer '13--brilliant and hilarious); Emma Thompson, Michael Pollan, Ricky Gervais, Kate Winslett, Keira Knightley, and Steve Carrell.
RF: What would you serve?
JG: I go through phases with cooking--I vacillate from being a wannabe Nigella Lawson to serving the whole family cold cereal for dinner! These days, with everything going on, I can barely plan a weekly menu for my family, so this question gives me too much agita. I do know I'd bake this bread, the easiest and most gorgeous on earth.
RF: What is/was your most extreme dietary choice (vegan/freegan/raw)?
JG: Aside from the occasional strip of bacon (so hard to resist) at a buffet, I haven't eaten meat in about fourteen years. Just poultry and fish. I'm a sucker for seafood.
Thanks again to Cher, Coree, and Robin at Radical Farmwives for the nod! It was good fun indeed to answer your questions for me. (And readers, do check them out. One of my very favorite blog reads of all time is Wings by Cher.)
I'm paying it forward with the Liebster Award to the following bloggers, all of whom are new(ish) and offer posts I can't wait to read as soon as they arrive in my in-box. (I'll be highlighting a few of the more established blogs in my year-end review. Spoiler Alert: Fragments from Floyd and We Only Do This Once will be included in that list.) Drumroll, please...
Your turn, readers: What blogs do you read and love? Why? Please share in the Comments section below. If you are reading this post via email subscription or mobile device, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com from a computer to see the comments and leave one of your own. (Don't forget to click the box for subscribing to comments so you can read any replies to you.)
Ahhh...summer vacation! The last concentrated dose of warm summer sun before that familiar crispness in the air makes you reach for your sweater and tug it close around you. We ventured out to Martha's Vineyard a week after President Obama's visit (which, depending on whom you ask, was either terrific timing or the missed opportunity of a lifetime--although nobody could argue that the lighter traffic was a blessing).
During those eight days among the dunes, I realized five key things about myself:
1. Even as a dedicated nature-lover, I can take only so much of living in the boonies. Maybe it's because I spent so much of my life as a New Yorker, but I just could not ever build my whole life around living in the woods. (Hey, Thoreau could do it for only two years, and even he ventured into town during his Walden experiment for the occasional dinner with friends.) I still treasure having the woods in my (suburban) backyard and wouldn't trade it for the best penthouse in Manhattan.
2. As much as I espouse unplugging from technology on this blog (and isn't that sort of a mixed message while you read this blog online?), it was really, really hard for me to disconnect. We were on a secluded island that took two ferries to get to, with very spotty internet connection. It drove me quietly nuts to send out message after message that was never received, like some sort of shipwrecked sailor sending out bottled S.O.S's with no hope of them ever being retrieved on the mainland.
3. Even though I adore my extended family and feel blessed to truly enjoy my in-laws (don't hate me), I still need a healthy dose of time all to myself. I couldn't always be "running with the pack" and in fact, some of my favorite moments on vacation were simply sitting by myself with a really good book and drifting into a late-afternoon nap. Because really, what's more decadent than a nap in the shade?
4. I still get starstruck. We shared a driveway with two other houses, one of which belonged to an A-list actress, whom we saw three times during our stay. (Our house was decidedly less posh than hers.) Each time we crossed paths, it sent a little quivery-shiver down my back. I've seen many, many celebrities over the years and even met a few (again, thanks to living in Manhattan for so long), yet it's always the same quivery-shiver. But why exactly? Why are famous people so captivating and different from "us", anyway? I think it's a question to be explored in a future post.
5. I'm a homebody. Not too many years ago, I used to feel deflated when I headed back home from a vacation, but now, it feels downright delicious to go back home again. Don't get me wrong: I'm enormously thankful for vacations. But I'm even more thankful for my "real life."
Your turn: Where was your favorite vacation ever? Could you live there full-time?Why or why not? Please share in the Comments section below.If you are reading this post via email subscription or mobile device, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com from a computer to see the comments and leave one of your own. (Don't forget to click the box for subscribing to comments so you can read any replies to you.)
Technically, I'm back, but with school starting next week for the kids and the house in a tornado of unpacking and reorganizing, I can't really be "back here" yet. So, here's another one of my very early posts that you might have missed (tweaked just a bit), which still captures exactly how I feel about unplugging and being more mindful about what truly matters.
Many years ago, when I was proud to call myself a "pop culture vulture" and was interested in the latest gossip and minutiae about every "celebrity" who had at least 15 minutes of fame--I think we're talking the late 80's/early 90's here--I was watching "The Arsenio Hall Show" and Demi Moore was the first guest. Arsenio was leaning toward her, thoroughly captivated and enraptured, as she told him and all the world about how much she absolutely loved to clean out her ears with Q-Tips.
That's right: I'm still bitter that I have brain cells dedicated to knowing this fact about her.
But my point is that it's very easy to get swept up into the great swirl of utterly useless garbage that's being circulated on television and now, the Internet.
Not too long ago--we're talking about maybe two years ago here--I used to begin my day by chomping down my breakfast, barely noticing what exactly I was stuffing into my mouth, as I stared like a zombie at the computer, scanning the latest incendiary headlines, clicking through the categories at The Huffington Post, and generally, riling myself up about things that shouldn't really matter in my own personal, grand scheme of things.
Then, one spring day, I decided to take my breakfast out to our back porch. Instead of staring at a computer screen, I found myself gazing at this:
You can probably guess how things have turned out.
I find it so much more restorative to begin the day with a view of the back yard, simply listening to birds chirping and seeing chipmunks running around like little maniacs, looking for their own breakfasts. Just as when I was growing up, we have a view of a forest now, and I'm tremendously grateful for that.
After breakfast, I poke around our greenhouse for a bit, to see what needs watering and what could use a little trim. I take a tour of the yard and see what's in bloom. I try to really focus on things, because it's quite amazing how much I can miss if I'm not really looking. For example, I might see the blur of a pink flower, but if I look closer, I see this:
Just like in the Dr. Seuss book, Horton Hears a Who!, I've come to realize that there are all of these little microsystems at work that I never noticed before, and all of these little details to see, if I only open my eyes and look for them. To this end, macro photography has become my favorite form of meditation.
For three seasons out of the year, I try to spend as many mealtimes as possible out on the porch, and if the weather isn't good, then I eat indoors with a view of the back yard. I've found that my children somehow argue less when they're outdoors. Once they're done eating, they find things to play with on the porch, or they go out into the back yard for a little exploring, or they want to play in the driveway with some chalk or their bikes.
Richard Louv, in his insightful book entitledLast Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder, includes some key studies about how important it is to have a view of nature, to really engage with our environment, and how essential it is to be able to disconnect from technology on a regular basis--and that doesn't just pertain to children.
I wouldn't be honest if I said that I never check The Huffington Post anymore, or that I'm immune to reading tidbits about the TomKat divorce (because...just wow!), but I try to allot the time to it that it deserves. Minimal. There's a whole wide world out there, and I want to be more mindful about what I'm focusing on.
Remember how in the movie American Beauty, the teenager at the end is seeing the wonder and artfulness in a plastic bag dancing around in the wind? Well, from a green standpoint, I wouldn't say that I'd be particularly thrilled to see a plastic bag blowing around loose, but I could see the point: Look for the Beauty in the Everyday. If you walk around with a camera, you start to change your perspective about what makes a good picture. You notice more. You appreciate more. Even the littlest things can hold your interest. And that can change your Big Picture about what's important to you and what you should be focusing on. That's different for each person, but I'm betting--for most people, anyway--it will have nothing at all to do with Q-Tips.
Your turn: How much of your time do you spend on things and people that truly matter to you? What "garbage" is stealing too much of your attention? How do you refocus and recharge? Please share in the Comments section below.If you are reading this post via email subscription or mobile device, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com from a computer to see the comments and leave one of your own.
