Noticing
The virtues and rewards of paying attention
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"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."
— John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn
Turn away, turn away from your winter of regrets, your spring of rain and sorrow. Turn the page on April. Gardens and forests, meadows and hedgerows, even parking strips-- all are alive with May's bounty. 
This quote from Tim O’Reilly, founder and CEO of O’Reilly Media, appeared in My Morning Routine by Benjamin Spall and Michael Zander. O’Reilly says that on his daily three-mile run, he always tries to take a photo of a flower. It focuses his attention.
It’s amazing how many different blossoms there are, and when you look for a new one every day, you see the changes of the seasons, the immense bounty of nature, and the beauty of things that you might otherwise pass by.
Oblique detour
And this is not on topic, but it’s such a rich idea that I can’t leave it out:
O’Reilly remembers how the philosopher Alan Watts once asked Joseph Campbell, the myth maven, “What kind of yoga do you do, Joe?
To which Campbell replied, “I underline passages.”
Everyone’s spiritual path is unique.
May Day
May Day, May 1, is Monday.
May 1 is International Workers’ Day in most of the world, although in the United States and Canada, workers—that is, labor—are celebrated on the first Monday of September.
May Day might be a better time to honor workers, because the September holiday comes with heavy baggage: the start of the political season leading to the November elections.
Another May 1
In the Celtic calendar, May 1 is Beltane, the beginning of summer. That is the holiday associated with maypoles, where dancing girls entwine pretty ribbons and everyone drinks lemonade.
Mayday, not May Day
Mayday, the international distress signal, is not related to May Day at all. It comes from the French m’aidez, meaning “help me!” You must repeat it three times to avoid any ambiguity.
Noticing
I am intrigued by the processes that result in the writing that appears here each week. I think I have nothing to say, and then topics just come to me. One reason my toolbox is so full, I think, is that I notice things.
Noticing is a part of being present. If you are in the moment, and aware of everything around you, you can’t help but see patterns and shapes and colors. You encounter little inconsistencies, small gifts from the Universe—stones, feathers, flowers—that lead to synchronicities of pattern, color and texture. They form a mosaic.
You may see a face in the bole of a tree.
And little pinecones land upright, standing up as straight as dancers.
Even common gray concrete and asphalt may entrance with texture. How many shades of gray there are!
Just look
Life is so much richer when we pay attention. Somehow, all the little pieces fit, interlocking to form the mosaic that is the foundation of who we are.
Seriously, when have you ever noticed something, however minor, that didn’t seem to fit? It reaches you, jogs a memory, brings a little thrill of pleasure.
Walking meditation
Sitting still in contemplation is one way to meditate. But another way is to be present in every moment, to open the doors and windows of the mind to let the Universe in.
Try it yourself. Just today, as you move through the world, just for a few minutes, pause and look around. Indoors or out, your choice.
You might find a gift from the Universe, like this little stone, about an inch long, that was sitting on edge in the bark dust, begging me to pick it up. It looks like a little piece of penuche. Or maybe a miniature mountain.
I can’t keep all the rocks I pick up over time. So at one point I will return it to nature. Maybe someone else will pick it up, but most likely it will remain just a minuscule part of the mosaic of being that wraps us all so tightly in its embrace.
Watch and learn
Be alive! Notice your surroundings. Nothing is really mundane.
Paused in traffic, check out the patterns of trees and buildings, shadows and shapes, from your car. Rather than set your mind on autopilot, notice the quirkiness of other cars, their dents and dings, bumper stickers, the feather on an antenna. No, wait—do any cars have antennae anymore?
Ascend the stairs at a parking garage and notice the sinuous railing.
Notice everything. Be aware and awake. Allow your spirit to expand.
Addendum
When writing about umami, I totally forgot two potent sources: Marmite and and its Australian cousin, Vegemite. These strong-tasting, salty, viscous vegetarian spreads have avid fans—and avid haters. They are an acquired taste.
I’ve never seen Vegemite for sale in Portland, so I’ve only tried Marmite. I used to enjoy Marmite thinly spread on Ry-Krisp crackers, topped with cottage cheese. It was a guilty pleasure, enjoying something so many people despise.
I’m indebted to Cook’s Illustrated for pointing out that the yeast extract (made from spent brewer’s yeast) these products are based upon was invented by a German named Justus Von Liebig, and that he also invented the OXO beef bouillon cube.
The writer, Steve Dunn, points out the differences between the brands:
The first noticeable difference between these two savory spreads is their appearance: Vegemite is almost black with a thick texture like peanut butter, whereas Marmite is dark brown and has a sticky, syrupy consistency, like molasses.
RIP Ry-Krisp
Sadly, Ry-Krisp isn’t made anymore. The plant in Minneapolis that made all the Ry-Krisp sold worldwide was bought by the food giant Conagra, which closed it in 2015. The construction firm Kraus-Anderson, whose precursor built the bakery in 1922, offers an intriguing history of both the building and the cracker.
Today, instead of Marmite, which is pretty spendy (although it lasts forrreevver), I spread miso, another umami bomb, on buttered toast. Some brands work better than others. Try Hikari red miso. You can get it at Fred Meyer.
Yet more umami
I had also forgotten about chutney, a thick syrupy sauce with fruit, sugar, spices and vinegar, often containing nuts. Usually the only kind to be found in the supermarket is Major Grey’s chutney, made with mango. But you can make it with any fruit. Peaches are a common choice.
It seems to keep forever. I’m still eating kumquat chutney I made years ago. It was in the freezer at home, and when that fridge died, it ended up in mine at Rose Schnitzer Manor. It does keep forever. Sweet and intense, good with meats or cheese.
Or even on toast with a thin spread of miso.
Another umami poem
Truffle weather
The sow snuffles Poking about for mushrooms Amid oak leaves and acorns. What if woman trained a cat to find them? The mushrooms smell like litter box. Little kitty paws, Muddy from digging. Truffles: the final umami. Shave a few; make some oil. Sell them at the farmers market. Tomatoes there Have umami, too. Beefsteak tomatoes and beef steak from cows, Darkly flavored, Forbidden to many. Like the whiskey you keep hidden from children In the far cabinet.
Semi-famous
Here is a poem I haven’t yet shared. It was published in the June 2009 edition of Wordgathering, an online journal of stories and poems written by or about persons with disabilities.
Why I am bringing it up now is that twice in the last few months I have been approached by artists, both of them with disabilities, who have asked to set this poem to music.
Julia Jacklein is a Canadian musician with a rare genetic disease. She envisions “The Lady with the Green Cane” as part of a song cycle involving three poems. She is still seeking grant money to make the project fly.
Echoing my own observations, she says “I am grateful for the outlook on life that my experience has given me.”
Ciara Moser is a blind bass player from Austria who lives in Boston and plays with various jazz ensembles in international venues. Her impressive background is detailed on her webpage.
She has completed crowdfunding for an album that would include my words. She says, “I discovered it online while I was looking for inspiration, and my band and I ended up doing a free improvisation over the poem at the studio.”
Wow! The power of words. The power of music.
The Lady with the Green Cane
Just be, you say Be where? Be here Be now Be nothing. There—have you inhaled The fragrance of being? Be watching The lady with the green cane Walk walk Stumble stumble That’s walking for you Walk walk Stumble stumble That’s writing for you Walk walk Stumble stumble That’s life A slow walk A slower walk A stop walk Walk walk Stumble stumble Stop. How many gardens How many leaves How much living Before life becomes being Just being Just seeing? The lady with the green cane. No big words— Just a stumble Somewhere As she walks.
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Sleep aid
As an aid to falling asleep, I once crafted a “sleep prescription,” what I think of as a sleep Rx.
The idea is not original with me, but I can’t remember where I found it.
Here is the one I wrote.
Quiet, calm, gravid*, good Down, down, deep, warm Love, space, comfort, peace
I keep this by my bed, and when I remember, which is seldom, I chant it silently until I fall asleep. It works.
So why don’t I use it more often? I don’t have an answer to that.
Oddly, it has been tough for me to memorize. I keep getting the words out of order.
Don’t rely on my sleep Rx. Craft one of your own. What words being you peace? What are your favored images?
Red sails. Ships sail Forward toward dawn Sleep now, sleep tight Dream, Sailor . . . soft, remember
*Gravid is a favorite word, I don’t know why. It means heavy, pregnant. Clouds gravid with rain. Fish gravid with roe.
May resolutions
Say goodbye to April and its invitation to renew, reset, to spring clean our inner and outer clutter.
The mantra for May is “my body”:
My body— Review. Renew. Restart. Movement, disability, resolution.
There is so much to unpack here. Let’s begin by deciding to love our bodies. No exceptions. Adipose tissue, age spots, toenail fungus—all of it.
Be authentic about your body.
Accept. Forgive. Love.
Let’s explore, together. Starting next week.
Finally, thank you
A big hug to all who have subscribed to Becoming. Especially you paid subscribers! I had no idea there would be so many of you. MWAH!
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