John & Anne Wiley

I believe that deep friendship has a sacred quality, in the sense that our very identity and sense of meaning in life is closely interwoven with interpersonal intimacy. Family carries bonds of closeness over our entire lifetime together, yet at least until maturity lacks the element of conscious choice.

Friendships that arise from consciously choosing each other and the process of exploring our deepest true selves together, this seems to me a powerful co-transformation accessible to those willing and able. This week we flew with adventurous and fascinating new friends, and the very next day went on an extended soul journey in playful and wide ranging conversation with an old friend. I cherish all that friendship awakens in me, and how it expands my enjoyment and appreciation of family.

All this comes to mind as I look at this pic of the Carrizo Plain’s iconic Painted Rock from our flight. A place where over millennia, friends and families have probably gathered.

0245 Place to Ponder

This area abounds with beautiful hidden gardens. Some are in yards protected by high walls and/or hedges, so few people ever see them.

0070 Symmetry

Many of the walled gardens have some sort of symmetry. A mandala, a labyrinth, or often boxes and rows like this one in Montecito. Nearby are many breathtaking natural gardens, like Tangerine Falls.

0077 Tangerine Falls

With so little rain this Winter, it’s nearly dry. Even so, by all reports it’s Eden on the trail in and at the base. Of course, that hike is also reputed to be less than an idyllic stroll in the woods. But on this flight we noticed this garden perhaps even more enchanting, and a quiet pool still filled with sparkling water.

0080 Zen

This garden of Zen so close to town is very easy to reach. With a helicopter to lower you down a long cable. Seriously, I wonder how many people have ever been here. Maybe we’ll fly closer next time to look for trails and a better angle for pix. Meanwhile I’m musing on the secret gardens within. How high are my walls, and how daunting the paths into the psyche? With continued effort, will I more often open the gates to share the places most precious? For me, sharing our Garden is the essence of life. That is why sharing the joy of flight so expands the moments aloft.

The people we meet help define us, both in which we choose as friends and in the growth they catalyze in us.

9714 Met

We’ve met some great new friends recently and today we took some flying, so when I looked at this pic of a blimp we chanced to pass it seemed to fit. It’s been a while since we’ve met people we might really get close to, and it’s refreshing to do the “getting to know you” tango again. Also inspiring to reaffirm the fact that our planet overflows with kindred souls beyond the many we already know and love. What could surpass the trance formation of sharing meaningful wide-ranging conversation, flight, dinner and an intriguing old movie like “Six Degrees of Separation” with delightful new friends?

On a ridge atop the Santa Ynez Mountains is this area I call the Rock Garden because it looks like a collection of carved stone. Unlike the Murdock estate though, it wasn’t chosen and placed by a gazillionnaire. I don’t think.

9610 Rock Garden

I don’t know what would’ve left some stones standing out, especially the small monolith at the upper-right. How did enough soil collect between the outcrops to support the thick scrub? I’d have thought with the strong winds and rain up there it would have all washed away before it could collect. Life is so amazing though. Plants find tiny cracks and crevices in the solid rock, and over time little gardens dot the rocks and then expand until the bare “sculptures” stand apart. If the whole mountain were bare stone, would we notice the “sculptures” at all? As the seasons erode our lives, is it the rock garden or the abundant life that stands out?

With so many friends and family departing lately, our own aging becomes more visceral. We’re reminded to notice our weathering process. I remember being a small child, delighted when a passing stranger would smile at me in public. I sometimes smile at children in public, unconsciously passing along those moments. If such moments leave impressions, what of those who know and love (or hate) us?

Sometimes it seems we’re just droplets falling into a vast river. Maybe the kindness of strangers and loved ones doesn’t just pass through us to following generations. It also lays down a sediment in us that nurtures life between the hard places. This is why we’re moved to pass it downstream.

How much has the Rock Garden changed in our lifetime? How will it have changed, and what traces will remain of us in 1,000 years? Rather than some outline of the shape that once stood here, a grain of sand that makes its way down to the sea.