And...what does it mean?
Before Covid, when snow still covered my corner of the world, I visited the Milwaukee Art Museum. Yogis from the metro area saluted the sun and s t r e t c h e d their muscles and minds. After practice…have I mentioned that I really love that yoga is called a practice? Like living….you never really are finished learning and growing. Anyhow, after practice, my friends and I took advantage of an opportunity to explore the museum.
I have never been a museum aficionado.
When I became a mother I told my husband, You are responsible for all parades and trips to museums!
Guess what?
My kid does not like parades or museums.
Tree=Apple=Seed=Tree=Apple=Seed
One among us strolling and gazing that Saturday morning carried some art knowledge. We saw photos, paintings, sculptures, and a tiny mannequin laying on the floor with a speaker and a projector? The friend shared a story about a Russian artist and the meaning of his paintings—what he was trying to convey in his work. I found it helpful to have a story…a point of reference.
My mind always wants to understand.
And…what does it mean?
Does your mind work like that, too?
What I’m thinking about this morning….
As we practice life, can we choose what it means from moment to moment, untethered from past experience and forward expectation? Individually? Together?
"My mind always wants to understand. And what does it mean? Does your mind work like that too?
My mind automatically works like that, if it is a subject that I care about . . . one that gets me closer to a goal of mine (or the goal of a loved one or a client). Otherwise, I don't usually notice. That is, unless someone else (whom I care about) points it out and triggers what often starts - and stays - as a passive curiosity. Then I sometimes wonder about it. If it distracts me from what I care about in life, I refocus on my priorities.
My wife often points to the beauty of a flowering tree or plant, or a setting sun. I welcome these alternate views, slowing down, soaking them in, glad she is there to show me these things to quietly enjoy. Otherwise I would miss their beauty, and life would not be quite as rich that day.
Sometimes I wonder. More often I merely breathe, and accept and appreciate their beauty.
I would bet money that I will never appreciate modern art even if someone is explaing the painting or other art piece to me. I'm closed-minded about it.