Calming the Monkey Mind

 

I’m so happy to be back for another artist residency at the Vermont Studio Center. It feels a little like deja vu, because I was also here at this time last year.

Although so much has changed.

First, my cohort has changed. You can't step into the same river twice and all that.

But, I'm in my same cabin, so that's really nice. I haven't seen Houdini, the mysterious tuxedo cat, but I'm sure he'll come around. Who knows when--he's mysterious like that.

I will admit that when I'm quiet and still, as I am here in Vermont, I often feel a sense of stasis, as if nothing is happening in my life. Nothing is moving. But, I know this is an illusion. This discontent is what the Buddhist's call monkey mind. It's the part of you that wants to put down your beautiful opus (aka your novel) and scroll through your social media accounts (or your “social” as the cognoscenti say). Then again, maybe your drug of choice is to go on line and shop for anything that's hot pink because you've decided that hot pink should be your new signature color. Or maybe mocha mousse? That sounds cooler, right? Let’s google that. I hear it’s trending.

This is what I mean. Monkey mind always has you looking over your shoulder to see what’s the new cool kid trend, the cutting edge, the new-new. Should you switch to Blue Sky? Should you wear a flower in your hair? Should you take up darning and recondition your old jeans? Turn them into a jacket? A dress? A table runner? A lawn mower? A Dadaist rain bucket that holds no water?

Creative Friends, slow your breathing. Sit with the stillness of winter. Change is happening without you doing anything. You do not need to take up darning. Spring is already awakening and stretching and curling its toes from deep under the frozen earth. Even as we speak, roots are reaching their fragile tendrils upward and upward.

(Yeah, nature is trending, hashtag change, hashtag renewal, hashtag hope).

Friends, calm your monkey mind. Make art. And, breathe.

Love,

Jamie