Mindful = Peaceful = Good for You.

The Garden at the Gropius House, Lincoln, MA              Copyright Lynn Schweikart

When I began doing the research for my book, Peaceful Places Boston, I noticed that I'd often come away from my excursions feeling calmer, yet more alive. I was so focused on experiencing every place I visited on a deeper level than normal -- paying attention to the sights, sounds, and smells, as well as to the physical sensations I was feeling: the warmth of the sun, the softness of a sea breeze, the taste of salt air, the coolness of the grass beneath my feet. It was like I slipped into a heightened sense of awareness.  Of course, it was a different kind of awareness; it was mindfulness.

I've been reading a great deal about mindfulness recently. How mindful eating can help you with weight control. How mindful meditation can change the structure of your brain and reduce stress and increase well-being. And I've become more convinced than ever of the connection between being mindful and feeling peaceful. So next time you find yourself needing a little calm and tranquility, find a place where you can escape from the hustle/bustle and open yourself to the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and feel of the place, even for just 10 minutes or so. (My book can help you find more than 100 of them in the Boston area!) I think you'll find it can be very rewarding.

Pastel Demonstration: Tomorrow Copley Society of Boston

On the Cusp Jeanne Rosier Smith (Image Detail)

The Copley Society of Art Gallery on Newbury Street is one of my favorite Back Bay Galleries. It offers a peaceful respite from the craziness that can envelop that section of Newbury Street, especially in the summer tourist season. There are two main galleries, as well as the somewhat secret "red room", which right now is hosting Nancy Colella’s summer solo exhibition Beach Peeks. (How I wish to Co|So, as it's affectionately called, would install a bench or a couple of seats to settle into while you admire the art!)

In reality, Co|So is more than just a gallery. It's actually the oldest (1879!) non-profit art association in the United States. Today, it has more than 500 artist members, from students to nationally-recognized artists, representing every just about every style of art, from traditional and academic realists to contemporary and abstract painters, photographers, and sculptors.

Tomorrow is a great time to get acquainted or reacquainted with the Copley Society of Art. From 1 to 3 p.m., Artist Jeanne Rosier Smith will give a demonstration on how to paint a wave in pastel. (Her pastel On the Cusp, shown above, won fourth place in in the Co|So's Summer Members' Show: New England Perceived, juried by Fuller Craft Museum Director Jonathan L. Fairbanks.) To see more of her work, click here.

The Copley Society
158 Newbury Street
Boston, MA 02116
copleysociety.org

"Complex Questions of Existence...Quietly Dressed in Feathers and Flight"

Snowy Egret -- Great Marsh, Rowley, MA      Copyright: Lynn Schweikart 2011

Birding is one of my favorite peaceful activities. Whether it's an early May morning at Mount Auburn cemetery or just about anytime in the vicinity of Plum Island, I can't think of anything more relaxing and rejuvenating than wandering about with binoculars and bird book in hand.  Best of all, birding is something you can do anywhere -- in my garden on Marlborough Street in the Back Bay, I've seen chickadees, robins, cardinals, goldfinches, warblers, thrushes, even a red-tailed hawk. 

So it was with great pleasure that I started reading Laura Jacobs' wonderful article, "Knowing a Hawk From a Handsaw" on the online version of The Wall Street Journal. Jacobs provides a valuable service in reviewing the pros and cons of the six primary field guides to North American birds, including the venerable  "A Field Guide to the Birds" published in 1934 by Roger Tory Peterson, which she likens to Emily Post's "Etiquette" and Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," in that all three "opened the door to a rarefied world of patterns and facts, inviting the ignorant and the ambitious alike to take part in something that had previously seemed impenetrable or academic—or the province of a leisured class."

But more than just a guide to the guides, Jacobs has written a homage to birding itself. and provided some powerful insights as to why this has become such a popular pastime: "the cyclical nature of birding, its concentration on the horizon and the sky, its unanswered questions about migration, speak to unknowns, to the unthinkables in life: time and loss and life span. Birds bring us these complex questions of existence, but quietly, dressed in feathers and flight." 

I found myself nodding in agreement with her conclusion: "Deep beneath the social, competitive, aesthetic and poetic attractions of birding is a longing, not for Eden, where nothing was yet named and knowledge was unnecessary, but for a role in nature's mystery play, where to tell a hawk from a handsaw is a matter of life and death."

Why Can't We Give Peace a Chance?

If ever there was an incentive to wish for peace in the world, this sad, yet moving sight provides it. In commemoration of Memorial Day, 33,000 flags were planted on Boston Common; one for every soldier from Massachusetts who died in service of our country, from the Civil War to the present day.

Families and friends of the fallen are encouraged to visit during the weekend and place mementoes and photos beside their loved one's flag, adding a personal dimension to this stirring memorial. More than 200 volunteers from the Massachusetts Military Heroes Fund spent most of last Wednesday putting the flags in place.

A Garden Spot in Copley Square

St. Francis Garden, Trinity Church  ©Lynn Schweikart

On my way home from a meeting, I paused for a few moments to savor one of my favorite peaceful places: the St. Francis Garden at Trinity Church.

I sat on the low stone wall at the garden's edge and watched the sparrows cavorting in the birdbath -- lots of chattering and splashing! The garden itself is a dazzling display of green and white. The roses are in bloom, the hostas and hydrangeas, in full bud, are getting ready to join the show.

This tiny oasis is planted and lovingly cared for by members of the congregation and the church's facilities staff. It's been regularly honored in the city's annual garden contest.

A few moments of quiet refreshment: listening to the fountain, delighting in the gentle breeze, and the coolness of the granite beneath me.

Experiencing "The Joy of Quiet".

Monastery of the Society of  St. John the Evangelist, Cambridge, MA
(photo: © Lynn Schweikart)

In The Joy of Quiet, an opinion piece that will appear in this Sunday's New York Times, travel writer and essayist Pico Iyer writes about the importance of "stillness", which he believes is the path to "sensing not what is new, but what is essential.".

Iyer writes of one of his favorite getaways: a Benedictine monasatery near Big Sur. He doesn't participate in services, or even meditate when he makes a retreat there; rather he "walks, reads, and loses himself in the stillness". (The fact that this spot, located between the Pacific Ocean and the mountains of California's Central Coast, is one of the world's most inspiring natural landscapes no doubt contributes to Iyer's sense of peacefulness.)

I immediately googled "Benedictine monastery, Big Sur" and found the place he was describing: the New Camaldoli Hermitage, where a guest retreat room runs $95 a night. (In contrast, at the posh Post Ranch Inn, just up Highway One, rooms start at $595 a night.)

Of course, you don't have to travel across the country to experience this level of quiet.  The Monastery of the Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge, MA accepts guests for a night or more. Here, too, you can participate as much or as little as you please in the monastic life . (Though I'd recommend attending at least one chanted service in the circa 1936 French Romanesque chapel.)

Iyer quotes the Benedictine monk Brother David Steindl-Rast, who describes joy as “that kind of happiness that doesn’t depend on what happens.” One of my New Year's resolutions is to devote more time in 2012 to experiencing the stillness that inspires that kind of joy.

Stop, Look, and Above All, Linger



Boston Public Library Courtyard Copyright: Lynn Schweikart

 Frank Bruni's column in this morning's New York Times entitled Time, Distance and Clarity, had a poignant message: too often we rush about our busy day without really taking in or appreciating our surroundings.

"I’m talking about subtle, incidental blessings that are strangely invisible to us. My friend N. realized that there was a towering, flowering Schefflera plant in front of her childhood home in California only after she’d moved to New York and begun coveting one in a Manhattan store, which wanted $500 for it," says Bruni.

Ah, yes, the blessings that greet us every day, which we are often too preoccupied to acknowledge. Bruni's column was inspired by his recent trip to Rome, a city where he'd lived and worked for a number of years, and was visiting again on a brief vacation.

"Above Rome’s pale yellow and dusky orange buildings, the sky somehow looks bluer than it does almost anywhere else," Bruni muses, "Did I take proper note of that when I saw it all the time? When it was the canopy over my waking, my working and the all-consuming, all-distracting tedium of daily life?"

I had similar feelings as I wandered around Boston last year, doing the research for Peaceful Places Boston. Was this stretch of Beacon Hill always so beautiful? Had I ever really paused to sit in the in the courtyard of the Boston Public Library and listen to the fountain? Why had I never taken the time to indulge my urge to wander along the Southwest Corridor Park and admire the South End's garden squares?

Especially in this season, when there is too much to do, and too little time to do it, it's good for the soul to rest for a moment and really notice.

"My companion halted in his tracks one afternoon to point out the heart-tugging perfection of the square we were in," writes Bruni. "It was the Piazza di Sant’Ignazio, one long side of which is traced by elaborately curved 18th-century buildings that evoke a rococo chest of drawers. I’d zoomed through it repeatedly years ago. And never once lingered. On this occasion I did. And then, my lesson learned, I stopped by again the next morning, before I headed to the airport and lost the precious chance."

Don't miss your precious chances: watch the sunset over the Charles River. Listen to the joyful sounds of children skating on the Frog Pond. Stop and smell the rich sea air near the waterfront. You'll come away restored and refreshed, with a deeper appreciation of the beauty that surrounds us every day.