Jan 29, 2018
Transitions with Elizabeth Duvivier. In this week's edition of Tranquility du Jour, Elizabeth and I discuss her handing over the reigns of Squam after 10 years, the challenges of letting go, and the importance of knowing when it's time to move on.
Direct download: Tranquility du Jour #413: Transitions with Elizabeth Duvivier
Yoga, Mindfulness + Creativity in Costa Rica: February 17-24, 2018 {2 spots left}
Pigs & Pugs Project Film Screening of The Last Pig: March 1
Yoga + Art in West Virginia: June 1-3, 2018
Penning in Paris: July 23-27, 2018 {3 spots left}
ELIZABETH DUVIVIER began teaching at the Lycee Lavoisier in Paris when she was 19. That was also the year she learned that she loved endives with beets, was allergic to ouzo and how to scale the wall of her apartment building in high heels. Over the years, she has taught French to high schoolers, Creative Writing to college students and how to live a mythic life to people from around the world.
Admittedly, the strongest call in her life has been to help others reconnect with their creativity but after building and running Squam Art Workshops for ten years, she is now keen to spend sacred time writing and messing about with mixed-media. Her stated intention is to achieve this with a complete absence of an agenda, itinerary, playbook, libretto or anything that might resemble a plan.
She finds nothing incongruous about her love for the writing of Mary Oliver and Tom Robbins; Eknath Easwaren and Asterix comics; Edith Wharton and Scarlett Thomas; John O’Donohue and anyone who can make her laugh.
And, she is confident that it is only a matter of time before Durga returns to set the world to right.
Savvy Sources
Doesn’t the fact that one has
managed to create something—
though it may seem to have had no other impact—mean something in
itself?
Does not that alone say something and promise something?
Does it not thus expand the range of what can be done, and of how
far one may go?
Every work of the spirit is a
small reenactment of the miracle of Being,
a small recreation of the world—and is not this essential and
unique transcendence
of its material existence enough to guarantee it a lasting
place in the history of
spirit and lasting participation in the “spirit” of the order
of the spirit— that
special attempt on the part of Being at its own great
re-creation?
To sum up: I’m convinced that each
spiritual act is an integral part
of the order of the spirit, that the order of the spirit is
present in
each act just as the entire river is present in an eddy, and
that every
such act irrevocably alters the order of the spirit, just as
every eddy,
though it may last no more than a minute,
has irrevocably changed the river.