Happiness is Peace in Motion

Many people think excitement is happiness…. But when you are excited you are not peaceful. True happiness is based on peace.” - Thich Nhat Han

Hey folks,

Ellie here. I’ve recently returned to the cold and cloudy Midwest after a New Year’s refresh in Key West, Florida.

Now I’m sitting here at my desk, with my beloved cat, Stella, curled up in my lap, surrounded by the digital and analog photographs that I collected during my journey to the island.

The fronds of the palm trees, the broad leaves of the banana trees, the delicate ferns, and the colossal monstera plants, all remind me of the lushness and vitality of the tropical paradise I have just left behind.

I am in awe of the abundance of life that thrives in this place, where the sun shines unobscured, and the rains nourish the land. The bougainvillea, hibiscus, and frangipani, all bloom in vibrant hues, their sweet scent filling the air. The exotic birds sing their songs, and the electric-green iguanas meander through the trees and scamper along the concrete.

I feel a deep sense of gratitude for the time I spent in this place, where the warmth of the sun and the sound of the ocean soothed my soul. But now, as I return to real life, where the trees stand dormant, waiting for the spring, I am reminded of the cycles of growth and decay.

But even in the dead of winter, there is always something to discover and learn.

The photographs of all of the diverse leaves hold within them stories of growth, adaptation, stability, and regeneration.

In the natural world, leaves are not passive elements, they are active participants in the lives of many living beings.

Regarding animals, I wouldn’t say I’m the reptile-loving sort. But after one of my previous visits to Key West, I welcomed an affinity for the iguanas that live there.

When I arrived at the hotel last week, this little iguana was hanging out in the branches steeped over the balcony.

We had a friendly chat before he sauntered away to a distant frond. (Maybe he didn’t enjoy our chat as much as I did.)

Iguanas can use the leaves as a camouflage to protect themselves from predators, and also as a shade to regulate their body temperature. The relationship between iguanas and leaves is a reminder that all living beings have a unique role to play and are connected in ways that may not be immediately apparent.

As Robin Wall Kimmerer said,

"The leaves are not just leaves, they are the very breath of the tree, the tree's voice, its energy, its generosity, its gratitude."

In this way, the leaves offer their gifts to the iguanas, and the iguanas, in turn, offer their gifts to the leaves.

One of my favorite Key West locals is the Ernest Hemingway Home.

I tend to saunter around with my Fujifilm Instant Camera and snap some analog photographs. It feels nostalgic to hold the prints between my thumb and forefinger on the white rectangle below the image.

I still find it so magical to watch the images appear on the white film.

But, analog is no match for the precision of digital photography.

And some photogenic monstera plants catch my eye, their large green leaves with unique holes stand out against the lush greenery. Their leaves hover over three sleeping polydactyl cats with their multiple toes stretching out into broad paws.

So with a modern camera in hand, I find myself trying to capture the perfect shot. The excitement of being in a place I love and having the time and space to exercise my creative muscle also ushered in my generally frenzied inner voice. At times, I find my inner monologue to be annoying, to say the least.

I don’t recall the thought prior that sparked this question, but, I asked myself something like, “Self, why do you tend to sacrifice your time and destroy your body and mind running after things that only make you superficially, and even temporarily, happy?”

And like the instant film photographs I had taken earlier, my mind developed an answer from the click of the question—the thought from the white to a grey haze to a clear picture.

And, then, after a few moments, I see a fully developed image.

Standing with my arms slackened, a vacant expression, and eyes that might as well be closed even though they appear open, I am entirely missing what is right in front of me—a peaceful moment.

A peaceful moment amongst the tropical flora and fauna, beneath a cloudless sky, and camaraderie with the sleeping six-toed cats.

And so, I quieted my mind by paying attention to my breath for a couple of good in and outs. Only then, without getting lost in the excitement and the novelty of this spectacular place, was I able to feel peace in the present.

And it was magic.

I snapped these photos just as a group of boisterous folks arrived to observe the sleeping felines.

The cats did not stir.

Unlike me, their peace was utterly undisturbed by the noisy intrusion.

And the people left nearly as soon as they appeared.

Maybe their inner monologues are annoying, too. Maybe they didn’t have a chance to slow down and experience the magic of observing their thoughts developing like instant film.

The last morning at the hotel, I sat on the balcony, my eyes closed and my heart full of gratitude as I took in the gifts of the natural world around me. The sky above is a deep shade of blue, like the wing of a blue jay, and the clouds are noticeably absent, carried off somewhere else by the winds of the great mystery. The sun is casting a warm and loving glow over everything, and the heat it brings is a reminder of the crackling fire of life.

The palm tree fronds rustle gently in the breeze, a symphony of leaves, each one a song of the tree's gratitude for the sun and the rain.

The iguana climbs through the leaves, its movements slow and steady, a reminder of the patience and wisdom found in nature.

The leaves dance and sway, a reminder to let go of our worries and to trust the rhythm of life.

I tilt my head back and let out a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, and the coolness of the breeze on my skin. I think about the photograph I took earlier, of the cat taking shade under the monstera leaf, a reminder of the beauty in the small things and how they can bring so much joy.

I stand up and stretch, feeling my muscles relax as I inhale the fresh air and exhale any remaining stress.

I take one last look at the palm tree fronds and the sky above, feeling connected to the Earth and at peace with my almost insignificant, but still meaningful place in it.

Now that I’m home, and reflecting on the first two weeks of 2023, the more I realize that I already have more than enough conditions to be happy right here and right now. I’m grateful for the reflection on ways to cultivate finding peaceful moments in the beauty of nature, the companionship of loved ones, and even the simple act of taking a photograph.

As we walk through the world, let us remember that peace is not something that is bestowed upon us, but something that we must actively cultivate within ourselves.

Take a step back and allow yourself to be present. Listen to the rustle of leaves, the voice of the wind, and the songs of birds, and let them remind you that you are a part of something greater.

Trust in your own strength, resilience, and persistence. And remember, you are the steward of your own inner peace.

Nourish it, tend to it, and watch it flourish.

In connection,

Ellie