Escape to Shape | Travel

I supposed you could say that I am in the midst of ‘spring cleaning’… sorting through ‘to do’ lists, organizing calendars & databases and reviewing long unopened files. In the process I stumbled upon various files and notes to myself, from myself, appropriately entitled ‘Inspirations’ and found this beautiful poem by C.P. Cavafy.

An inspiring friend and client, Natalia Castillo, originally gave this poem to me.  As Founder and Creative Director of Escapada Living, Natalia embracing her own passion for global travel through visionary designs for woman.

For those of you on the journey called life, this is for you…

ITHAKA by C.P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka

hope the voyage is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

angry Poseidon-don’t be afraid of them:

you’ll never find things like that on your way as long as you keep your thoughts raised high, as long as a rare excitement stirs your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,

wild Poseidon-you won’t encounter them

unless you bring them along inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.

May there be many a summer morning when, with what pleasure, what joy, you come into harbors seen for the first time; may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things, mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony, sensual perfume of every kind- as many sensual perfumes as you can; and may you visit many Egyptian cities to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.

Arriving there is what you are destined for.

But do not hurry the journey at all.

Better if it lasts for years,

so you are old by the time you reach the island, wealthy with all you have gained on the way, not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.

Without her you would not have set out.

She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.

Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

By request, here is the playlist from the last yoga class I taught in Marrakech. May it serve as an inspiration to some and a reminder to others. Enjoy & namaste…

Be Thankful For What You Got by Massive Attack

Crash Into Me by Dave Matthews

Ventura Highway by America

Just Breathe by Pearl Jam

Life In A Northern Town by Sugarland, Little Big Town & Jake Owen

Why Does My Heart by Moby

All Good Things Come To An End by Nelly Furtado

Silencio by Nelly Furtado & Josh Groban

Sober by Pink

Empire State Of Mind by Jay Z & Alicia Keys

Where Is The Love? by Black Eyed Peas

Halo by Beyonce

Dance Me To The End Of Love by Leonard Cohen

Drums In The Jungle by African Tribal Orchestra

Sweet Thing by Van Morrison

Thank You by  Natalie Merchant

Dr Frankenstein by Jack Savoretti

Long Time Traveller by The Wallin’ Jennys

Songbird by Eva Cassidy

Wendeyaho by Sudha

Anyway – what Mother Teresa has to say…

Mother Teresa

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

For many, this will not be the first time you have heard this moving prose poem by Oriah, offering a powerful challenge to all those that want to live more authentically.

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrows, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wilderness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It diesn’t interest me if the stroy you are  telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the acusatio of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therfore turstworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, every day and if you can source your won life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, your and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have . I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done ot feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with eme and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

This is one of my favorite poems  and even though it has been widely read I still felt the need to post it today. I have a deep appreciation for originality and the power to break away from social norms. I tend to dance to the beat of my own drum. A stance ‘anyone’ clearly possessed, which is why noone loved him. Even though in today’s age one is not exactly alienated for individuality, some groups still tend to view anything other than the norm,  unacceptable. It is fascinating to hear what others get from this poem. It is definitely one that gets you thinking.

BW

anyone lived in a pretty how town

By 

ee cummings

“anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn't they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain”

This excerpt from Annie Dillard’s beautiful book, Pilgrim At Tinker Creek, reminds us to open our eyes to all the gifts around us….

I’ve been thinking about seeing. There are lots of things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But–and this is the point–who gets excited by a mere penny? IF you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat kit paddling from its den, will you count that sight as a chip of copper only, and go your rueful way? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won’t stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get.

(This was written after she found out she was dying  from cancer).

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead  of pretending the earth would go into a holding  pattern if I weren’t there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a  summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me  was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, ‘Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.’ There would have been more ‘I love you’s’ More ‘I’m sorry’s.’

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute.look at it and really see it  . . live it and never give it back. STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!

Don’t worry about who doesn’t like you, who has more, or who’s doing what. Instead, let’s cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.

When I Am Among The Trees

When I am among the trees,

Especially the willow and the honey locust,

Equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

They give off such hints of gladness.

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,

In which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

And call out, “stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“and you too have come

into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine.”

By Mary Oliver