Meditation Mount

I've yearned for the ability to meditate for a while, though it has been difficult in this world of distractions to clear the chatter enough to really get the most of the experience. This is why, when I learned there was to be an Introduction to Meditation seminar at Meditation Mount, I decided it would be the perfect time to learn and to visit one of the places on my To Smite List.
This was actually not the first time I'd been to Meditation Mount. The first time occurred in November of 2009 for a concert, but it was in the dead of the night. The morning I drove up for the meditation session, the sky was overcast, but the grays only accentuated the lovely greens of Ojai. I love the area. If I had free range to pick places to retire, Ojai would be in the top two next to Monterey. With its Bierstadt mountains and picturesque orange groves, its clean air and quiet attitude, Ojai is one of those places that truly serves as a refuge, and Meditation Mount is its jewel.
From the full meditation session, in which I was by far the youngest, I learned the technique of fire gazing, of watching a candle flicker then be still, for only a moment. Technically, any object can be used as a focal point, but the fire was truly engrossing. We kept ourselves grounded with our feet planted flat, and we breathed deeply of the clear air, searching for that gratitude and innate happiness that the average person would consider a social sin. We concluded with a world meditation, forming a connection with the whole world of people and maintaining awareness that we are all part of one human organism, something that it is easy to forget behind a computer screen.
At the conclusion, we went our separate ways into the brisk air, never to gather as a group again. Sipping on a hot cup of chamomile, I took a stroll through the International Garden of Peace, a humble, yet beautiful collection of cacti and flowers overlooking the Ojai Valley. The sun peeking through the clouds cast beams of light across the farmlands below, a truly awe-inspiring vista. I returned to the parking lot, where I shared my first freshly picked persimmon with a group of my fellow meditation students. Its gooey sweetness was delightfully refreshing to my empty stomach. I had no idea how squishy they had to be before they were ripe. I relished the red mess all over my hands and mouth and enjoyed the company of the kind travelers before we parted ways, and I took home a few more persimmons and an orange.
As I stopped for some lasagna at Boccali's, just down the road, I realized that, for the first time in ages, I felt truly calm, all the way down to my roots. The fresh air and beautiful views I had shared with kind people had very quickly refreshed me. I am subscribed to the Meditation Mount Newsletter, and I intend to go back for more meditations, guest speakers, and perhaps another concert. For anyone seeking solitude and relief from the madness of city life, Meditation Mount is the ideal location for comforting the soul.

Juan Bautista de Anza Park

I got introduced to Juan Bautista de Anza Park several years ago and was immediately struck by the mystique of the place with its towering oaks and seas of silvery grass rustling in the wind. It's difficult to imagine that a place like this exists in the middle of a Calabasas subdivision. In fact, the pictures I've taken are no more than five hundred feet, at any given point, from a playground.
On this particular afternoon, I felt the call to the park, as I'd long been wanting to capture the sun shining through the branches of those magnificent oak trees. With the days getting shorter, I figured I would be able to catch some great lighting early and be home at a very reasonable hour. The thing about sunset photography, though, is that, from the moment I set foot outside the car, it becomes a race against the clock to get as many possible pictures of the area while the light is still good. This involved me racing past the "BEWARE OF RATTLESNAKES" sign and up a steep hill covered in four-foot high, dry grass with flecks of ash from fires past still encrusted on the stems, and snapping until my fingers ached.
While I love my camera, one of the things I'm finding frustrating is the inability to preview the pictures in bright light to see whether the shutter/F-stop/ISO settings are working or not. This makes experimentation incredibly difficult and has led to many disappointments on returning home. In any case, I didn't quite get the pictures I'd hoped for, but I think I surpassed some of my expectations. For instance, there was the innocent adolescent couple that stumbled into one of my shots, just as the lighting was perfect. At first, I was annoyed with their hormonal gropings, but then I realized that, backlit in the shadow of the oaks, they seemed the perfect examples of Adam and Eve in their garden. I started snapping, and I was pleased with the results. I suppose this should teach me a lesson in making lemonade from life's lemons...
In any case, despite being in the midst of human habitation, there is a mystical sense of isolation in this park. Something in the way the wind whispers through the grass, the way the oaks cast their long shadows across the hillsides, the way the white falcons screech to each other as they battle the black crows for perching space, makes this place magical. To sit in silence on a sun-shadowed swing, to fly out over the land, then back again to the roots... this is a fragment of paradise. Adam and Eve indeed.

Abalone Cove

I discovered Abalone Cove in my early days of working when I really didn't have much to do but research adventures on the internet.  Located in the midst of the fabulous Rancho Palos Verdes, this ecological preserve is a marvel: clear, blue waters, no stray litter, clean air, kelp fronds, and tide pools brimming with life.  Who would have imagined such a place would exist a mere few miles west of Long Beach?


Firstly, a word about the area.  Rancho Palos Verdes is a place of extraordinary opulence, but it is so tastefully designed (or tastefully hidden behind landscaping) that it feels like an entirely different world from Los Angeles.  To observe the enormous mound of earth from the southbound 110, one cannot help but wonder where it could have originated.  Kentucky, perhaps, if Kentucky and its horse ranches look the way I imagine them.  In any case, once on its slopes, one is exposed to breathtaking views of silver seas stretching out to Catalina Island and beyond.  The view from Palos Verdes Drive while the sky is still deciding whether to rain or not is spiritual in its beauty.


A network of trails stretches over the park itself, all leading down to several sections of beach, separated by twenty-foot channels of sea.  Two sections host sea caves, where one can watch the blue-green sea swell and spray with all its might.  In the early morning, amid the perfect temperatures, one shouldn't be surprised to find a welcome committee of ground squirrels in one element and dolphins in another.  The tide pools are teeming with crabs, urchins, anemones, and even the occasional sea slug.  I hear rumors that seals inhabit the kelp fronds, but alas, this time, I didn't see any.  Nonetheless, as far as tide pools are concerned, these surely do not disappoint.


As far as places go, in the early hours of a Sunday morning, when the only other humans are the occasional fishermen, Abalone Cove is as serene as any chapel.  The beautiful coastlines and the regular rushing of the waves create an atmosphere that is a welcome escape from the litter and pollution further north.  It is well worth the drive.