Guest Podcast Episode HERE.
They’ve never met or even spoken to each other.
In fact, I don’t even think they know the other exists.
Yet this summer my two godsons are each getting married and their weddings are exactly one week apart.
It’s a charming minor synchronicity, one I’m delighting in as I use Kayak to make multiple travel arrangements.
And it’s reminded me of the power of pilgrimage, particularly since I experienced one pilgrimage this week that was unexpected and magical…and another that was thwarted.
Days ago, I received a wonderful last-minute invitation to the Van Gogh Immersive Exhibit in NYC.
It was held at Pier 36, a roughly 75,000 square foot space.
(To put things into perspective, a single NBA basketball court is 4,700 square feet, so roughly the size of 16 of them.)
There are projections on every wall and on various reflective sculptures where Van Gogh’s paintings “come to life.”
You witness endless movement as images become animated, colors dissolve into one another, and perspectives shift…all coordinated to an evocative soundtrack.
The whole experience is extremely trippy and wonderful and I heartily recommend you see it if it’s coming anywhere near you.
(It’s currently playing in 19 U.S. cities and Toronto HERE)
Alternatively, inspired by the desire to see differently and be moved by art in a new way, you might just consider traveling to it, instead.
Although my journey only involved a subway ride there and an Uber ride home, perhaps consider making a Van Gogh pilgrimage to the city of your choice.
I promise you it will be worth it.
My second art pilgrimage––the one that was thwarted––was inspired by the second godson’s wedding.
That ceremony is in New Mexico and I thought since I’m going to be in the state, I could finally visit a work of art I’ve been fascinated with since college, one that’s recently resonating with me in new and unexpected ways.
Specifically, it’s Walter De Maria’s The Lightning Field.
The Lightning Field (1977) consists of 400 polished stainless steel poles in a grid that’s one mile by one kilometer.
The poles average 20 feet or so in height and are two inches in diameter.
They are spaced 220 feet apart.
The installation is in a remote area of New Mexico, i.e., you can’t just breeze through it on your way to the gift shop.
In fact, an overnight stay in a cabin is actually a required part of the experience.
Visitors are encouraged to walk through the field, and although the foundation says that “a full experience does not depend on the occurrence of lightning,” the effect is rather spectacular.
Right after college in a fleeting cash-rich Bohemian moment, I actually did pay for a stay at the Lightning Field but had to cancel.
In the years since, despite moments of longing and whimsy, it’s never really been easy, much less practical to schedule a visit.
Since I’m going to be in the same state this August for wedding #2, I thought perhaps my luck had changed.
Unfortunately, since all of 2020 had to be rescheduled because of Covid, all of 2021 is booked.
My desert pilgrimage, alas, is temporarily thwarted.
I’ve often thought about the meanings and metaphors of The Lightning Field.
As someone who’s been teaching about and around Transformation––whether that’s in a 60-minute yoga class or a year-long daily online course––I find many lessons and analogies in the work.
Of course, the idea of Pilgrimage resonates strongly.
The journey to see art (or anything that’s sacred)in order to experience a change within ourselves is enormously powerful.
The Lightning Field definitely represents that for me.
But lately, I’ve found it to be an apt metaphor, even a healing one, for one of my pet peeves.
I’ve been thinking a great deal about the excessive use (and often complete misuse) of New Age buzzwords and phrases, particularly “Manifestation” and “Law of Attraction.”
I’m writing now in a larger work about the scientifically proven effectsof mindset practices, ranging from mindfulness meditations to placebos to old-fashioned positive thinking.
And I’m also considering the more nebulous, mysterious ways in which our thoughts can affect our realities…and the ways they probably do not and sometimes definitely don’t.
(Sidebar: There’s a terrific Amy Schumer sketch about how a certain kind of person thinks that the entire Universe was created just to give them dating advice.)
Anyway, here’s the shocking (pun unavoidable) thing about lightning rods:
They don’t actually attract lightning.
Even if you put out 400 lightning rods, you’re not going to get more lightning than you would have otherwise.
The artist Walter De Maria created the work in an area where there was a lot of lightning already.
(Newsflash: we still can’t control the weather.)
Lightning rods merely provide a preferential path.
Thus, what you are going to get is a visually beautiful phenomenon, particularly when lightning does what it’s going to do and on its own schedule.
We have severely limited control over the experience, in other words, but we can shape it into something artistic and beautiful.
Perhaps that’s a wiser way of reframing many if not all “manifesting” conversations:
- Make sure you’re playing in the right field, one that’s conducive to the experience you want to create.
- Realize you cannot control when or if lightning strikes.
- Do set up your own “preferential paths” as desired.
- Sit back and admire the beauty of whatever does––or doesn’t––manifest.
Remember: You can’t create––and you definitely don’t control the lightning––but you can define your preferential path.
Namaste for Now,
P.S. There are still some spots left in my intro to yoga and wellness program HERE.
It’s designed for the inflexible, the stressed, and the cranky and it starts in 2 weeks.
In fact, I did a very fun guest podcast episode about it HERE.
