top of page
  • Jul 14
  • 3 min read

ree

Gratitude journaling is such a well known practice. But for me, the concept never really stuck until I read a book last year called The Tools by psychologist extraordinaire Phil Stutz. That book turned me onto a meditation practice of gratitude that helped me cement the practice. And then I turned it into an illustrated series capturing my life. I called the series gratituesday.

ree

You might know about the book The Tools already, but if you don't - it's about a psychologists breakthrough with patients when he shared visualized meditations. His technique is completely different to mainstream psych and a joyous pivot from mechanations of talk therapy. It follows the theory that you just have to act your way into being.


The Tools is already showcased on a website where Phil Stutz along with his protege Barry Michels are sharing the background of the project and the audio files for the visualizations. Since they are part meditations, it's sometimes easier to click the audio and close your eyes and imagine it for yourself rather than read it. If that's something that interests you, the one I'm exploring in this post is called Grateful Flow.


Grateful Flow is about accessing the experiential state of gratitude. A simple gratitude journal is one way to connect our fortunes in the smallest ways to our sense of wonder and appreciation for the world we live in. Phil Stutz takes it to the next level where we don't even have words and we practice just basking in the feeling of gratitude.


We are supposed to imagine a list of things we are grateful for, naming them one by one, and then eventually move from the tangible to intangible and concentrate on the feeling of gratitude. Like a warmth inside the body flowing outward from your heart. Grateful Flow. Then you will feel a higher source of infinite giving all around us, and bask in the abundance.


I like using this tool when I get overwhelmed, tired or stressed. It has become so useful to me and my daily habits that I tracked my gratitude list, and then illustrated them in a series I named gratituesday - because I post it on Tuesdays.




Gratituesday allowed me to commemorate my progress in the gratitude practice. A small title, the date and then three things that went on during the week that made my list. Its made me more aware of the wonderful things happening, and to appreciate the moments as they come.





I illustrate everything from food I ate, things I did, things I saw. I try to make sure I'm not illustrating from one category too often. But being mortal, it tends to be the things I can touch, taste, see, hear. It's made me pay attention to things, and encouraged friends to share their own gratitude lists.




Because it's in my weekly scheduled IG posts, I feel accountable to keep up the practice. As a result, I spend a lot more time at the begining of the week writing doing what things are coming up that I'm looking forward to experiencing. And then of course, at the end of the week, I spend time drawing out the things that actually happened. So I get the gratitude practice before, during and after.




I really try to make sure the things I capture are small. There are times when epic things happen, but more often than not it's just the daily happenings. A small sighting of a bug. A nice meal or snack. A sunrise, sunset. Sometimes it's just the slow moments - because those are really nice in this fast-paced world.




Gratituesday has helped me celebrate all kinds of things. And I like the attitude it cultivates in me. I'm more interested in these small moments - planned or unplanned. I also like how it encourages me to prioritize self-care too, scheduling in things that help me fill up my cup.


I used to be quite cynical and still am (diplo analaytical skills never quite shut off) so I would ruminate on things and get lost in unfinished arguments I would have with characters in my head. Ironic now since I don't need those skills as much in the art arena. So, this gratitude practice has definitely allowed me to let go a little, shift my attention, slow down and feel instead of think. If this is something that might resonate with you, then I definitely recommend giving it a whirl.

ree

cheers to finding the gratitude practice that fills you up,

smarti

ree

I'm bang in the middle of a challenge to read 100 books this year. It's been relentless as well as fun. I've already hit 50 and that's so exciting! Lately I'm overwhelmed with the desire to capture my book notes in an illustrated form - like a book report. An illustrated book report! Not every book deserves a book report - but I cannot stop thinking about these three books:



Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters by Priya Parker

A fascinating read about how to put together a more meaningful event through all the stages of dreaming, creating, hosting and closing. I loved the anecdotes. The takeaways were so helpful. Definitely will help me stay out of the box with my own gatherings.

ree


Death and Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs

A significant and influential book from the 60s in New York, by an urbanist well known in city planning circles. This book gets referenced all across the board for important aspects of city planning, complex communities and residential experiences. My illustrated book report is on a specific two-page description of a day in the life of a small business owner (Mr. Jaffe) on a NYC block and all the ways he serves his local community.

ree


History of the World in 6 glasses by Tom Standage

Walking through history one drink at a time - from beer, to wine, spirits, coffee, tea and finally Coca-Cola. I didn't expect to enjoy this one as much as I did. The stories of historical significance were extraordinary. I found myself listening and relistening several times because the details were wonderfully compact and so entertaining. *My illustrated book report is an excerpt about tea which fascinated me.

ree


I love reading widely and randomly. I'm always surprised by what I get to learn. The variety of literature is also helpful for our end of the year book bingo (read more here.)


These book reports have me thinking though - oh, how I wish we could go back to the days of the Book It Pizza Hut program. I would love to wear the pin and get gold stars and have a personal pan pizza all to myself after every 5 books. But for now, I'll settle for drawing illustrated book reports and celebrating my latest reads with you.


Here's to illustrated book reports,

smarti

  • May 14
  • 9 min read


Illustrated dragonfly on a background of red/blue/purple with white title of Dragonfly Ceremony by thesmarti.

This is a post about one of the rare times when all of my skillsets come together to make one big, beautiful thing. All the elements were there. A friend who trusted me. Creativity uncorked. Ritual dreamed up. Community assembled. Magic made. Read on to learn about the Dragonfly Ceremony designed for a friend.


Chapter Opening illustration with a dragonfly in the middle by thesmarti.

Let me just start by explaining that I am not an event-planner per se but I adore a well-planned event, and I often enjoy facilitating them (see no 25. Soup Nights for building community in Namibia, see Copenhagen Treasure Hunt, and see no 09. Greek Mythology vacation.) Actually, my jam is thoughtfully organizing so I can bring people together for gentle games, purposeful interactions, and a cozy sense of togetherness.


This event was a reimagining of a 44th birthday party. You see, my friend is the daughter of a Japanese-Indian union. On her Japanese side, the word for 4 (å››) is pronounced shi and the word for death (æ­») is also pronounced as shi. Therefore the 44th birthday is known as the "double death" birthday with a lot of superstitions attached. Then from her Indian background, they don't talk about death at all - it's a very serious taboo. So my friend was stewing in dual cultural panic despite wanting to celebrate with a party. So I dusted off my design thinking skills and went down the rabbit hole to see what we could create.


We skirted around a couple of issues. What kind of a party? An evening/dinner thing. What kind of people? The women in her life, a sisterhood of sorts. What kind of a celebration? Something symbolic, something spiritual. What kind of experience? Something different, maybe bizarre. And then I did the most obvious thing and asked her what if we actually acknowledged the 44 and made it a double death ceremony of sorts? Too scary. What about a double death ceremony with a rebirth to acknowledge she still has more life to live? Still scary...but more intriguing.


In a throw-away question in the middle of all of that, I asked her about symbology she felt connected to and she snapped to the dragonfly. On the drive home, I thought about the dragonfly. It's too perfect. 4 wings. Metamorphosis. A water life. A flying life. Metaphors for a death and a rebirth. So many easy connections that could be weaved into a 44th birthday.


So I conceived a dragonfly ceremony - two deaths and a rebirth. It took me a while to figure out the two deaths. But then I finally found a solution by separating the mind and body. The first death could be of the mind - some sort of exercise that can help her let go of who she was. The second death would be of the body - some kind of mock funeral with a prayer and a circle around her to make her feel loved. And then a rebirth of sorts? One where she gets to come back to life and feel re-awakened to all the wonderful things awaiting her.


Illustrated plan of the dragonfly ceremony aspects including small doodles and descriptions by thesmarti.

(1) the ceremony plan © thesmarti



First and foremost I needed to build a eulogy to recap her life. What were her biggest adventures, regrets, romances, achievements? Despite our new friendship, we sat down together trying to capture her life and thankfully she was open to sharing. And wow, what a life she's lived so far! Expats are truly some of the most interesting people. And then I asked her about all the things she was still looking forward to and how could she step more fully into life? I left her with a target list to help her dream up and write a future worth a re-awakening.


Then came designing the ceremony itself. How does one prepare a mock funeral? (Side note: I've actually participated in a mock funeral before. For a flannel shirt. I delivered the eulogy to help a friend with her thesis as part of the Design for Social Impact graduate studies. She was a textile designer studying the life of clothes and how to honor them consciously. Quite apropo.) All I knew for sure was that there has to be some pomp and seriousness to make it feel theatrical and invigorating for her and for her guests.


In the end, the Dragonfly Ceremony evolved into a four stage process:

1) Introduce the dragonfly, the lore of the transformation, the symbolic meaning through a written story delivered as a speech in monologue form. (Found several story versions online that I was able to tweak.)

2) Facilitate the mind death with a quiet and secret written exercise so that guests can experience the same intensity of feeling surrounding a double death and the ways it questions the status quo about current life.

3) Guide the body death by bringing everyone into the garden for a mock funeral. Guests help build the ceremonial tension by standing around the birthday girl in a circle as she is suspended in a staged death while lying down on a blanket. We shroud her body with light-colored scarves and recite prayers and sing over her in this suspended state, reminding her that she is safe to let go of what no longer serves her so she can make room for what is to come.

4) Initiate the reawakening by asking all guests to help revive the birthday girl by using our physical touch to placing hands on her, warm her and bring her back to life. Then lift her in the blanket gently as a symbolic first flight of the dragonfly post-metamorphosis.


And quickly after the ceremony came together, the dragonfly became the recurring motif for the whole event. Decorations, the interactive games, all of the stationery - dragonflies everywhere possible. I went to town designing name tags, place cards, invites and petal envelopes. I cut out giant 3D cardboard dragonflies and painted them to decorate the space. I hung photos of the birthday girls life from the dragonflies like a mobile over the center of the table. I crafted small 3D paper boxes for each guest, and used the sides of the box to include 1) dragonfly illustrations, 2) a stories from the birthday girl's extraordinary life, 3) a unique conversation starter question and 4) a special word from the birthday girl to capture a guests's essence. (Side note: her word for me was "radiant" which made me feel so glowy and seen.)



(1) the stationery plan, (2) the invite/menu/place card/nametag, (3) paper box for each guest © thesmarti



Because the event involved some serious ceremonial process, I needed mad help to rehearse the facilitation. This is beyond the scope of what I normally do as a designer, but I'm finding that most of my favorite projects include this leadership aspect! So I asked a yogi friend to do the help me rehearse. She graciously opened the doors of her yoga shala to practice the ceremony, took on the challenge of the dragonfly lore recitation, and helped me walk through the timing and process of the entire event. I owe most of the magic of the ceremony to her helpful guidance.


The other pickle was getting the dragonfly decor and stationery finished in time. I routinely underestimate how much time I need to craft things. Despite starting 3 weeks ahead of schedule, the project work always expands to fill the time right before it is due. ALWAYS. Some of this is due to clients owing me last minute information. But in this case it was mostly to wait for paint to dry.


But something I've learned from other events is to separate the decoration installation from the actual event set-up. So I was ahead in this aspect and decorated two days before the event, cleaning bar beams in the patio space and hanging dragonflies and paper mobiles as the HangingOverTable decor. Then on the ceremony day, I showed up around mid-day to help the birthday girl set up tables, chairs, linens, candles, table decor, petal envelopes and place cards. In the garden I laid out a tatami beach mat with a blanket and white scarves, with fairy lights and torches in a circle around it ready for the ceremony.



(1) Cardboard cutouts of dragonflies, (2) dragonfly installation as HangingOverTable decor and (3) dragonfly trio on backwall © thesmarti



As twilight descended, I returned to the party space and was smudged with sage in a welcoming ritual by my yogi friend - a clever addition she included to make sure guests were in the right frame of mind for a ceremony. By then, all the guests had already arrived and with drinks in hand and name tags pinned on, they mingled and chattered around a table in the lounge.


A couple of guests helped me to place last-minute eucalyptus bouquets into the dining table vases to create privacy and a clarifying scent for the mind death Q&A petal envelopes. I slid my speech cards on a string around my wrist and the birthday girl let me borrow a Tibetan ringing bowl to catch everyone's attention. *brrrong-brroong-brroong*


And then the event started. And it flowed.


I was love-struck by the birthday girl and her giving trust, her willing participation, and her shining aura. I was touched by how the guests joined into the magical seriousness of the event. I was heartened by their thoughtful silence while writing for the mind-death Q&A. I was encouraged by my yogi friend who carried the weight and wonder of the body-death ceremony with me. I was honored by the singer who chorused the group into a song as we re-awakened the birthday girl. I was surprised by the collective energy that not only lifted the birthday girl in the blanket but popped her in the air like a parachute jumper. Three times!


And even in the imperfection, there was beauty.


(Side note: As the ceremony completed, all of the emotions of being scared, hopeful, excited, anxious, happy collapsed into me and I felt my hands grow cold and knew I was seconds away from an introvert meltdown. Thankfully, a friend caught my hand and re-warmed it in hers and after a couple of minutes of chatting, my body relaxed again and my heart felt full enough to rejoin the group.)


The rest of the night was a whirlwind. The birthday girl had the genius idea of hiring a personal chef to cater a 6 course plant-based menu with a fusion of Japanese-Indian cuisine to honor both of her backgrounds. Chef Siobhan cooked and crafted a loving and gorgeous dining experience - truly a magical and delicious presentation that took the event to a whole other level!


Sitting next to charming and interesting ladies I have never met, having conversations over deep topics, feeling the connected thread of the birthday girl, experiencing delicious Michelin-starred plating - in short, it was a wonderful night.



(1) The table scape with the petal envelopes and eucalyptus, (2) the garden ceremony, (3) dragonfly motifs, (4) the culinary chef Siobhan plating, (5) one of the amazing plant-based dishes that night, (6) the full table during dinner © thesmarti



After the ceremony, there was an outpouring of comments from the guests - appreciation to the birthday girl of course, to the other guests, to the food, to the ceremony, to the gathering. And I have to say, as the event designer, it took me a while to come back down to earth, I had so many questions to ask. Did people feel the sensation of the double death and rebirth? Did they enjoy their personalized box? Did they learn something new about the birthday girl? Did the intentions of the vulnerable moments at the bonfire work? Did they feel empowered to ask new acquaintances some deep questions? Did they leave feeling renewed/revived?


Actually, I'm still asking these questions. It was a very unique experience and I wonder if I will always be curious about what exactly happened for everyone else. My designer side desperately wants to canvas everyone afterwards and capture all the things. But my heart wants me to just let the moment exist without having to question it. (Side note: I do wonder why I have this deeply unsatisfying curiousity after my most meaningful events. An insatiable mind takes over and it quickly disconnects me from being in the actual experience! I've only recently realized this happens every time I do an event, so I will need to prepare a toolkit ready to ground myself for the next time this comes up - blind journaling, epsom-salt bathing, recitation/meditation, special nourishing ritual. If you have any other suggestions, let me know!)



Illustration of dragonflies flying over a blue/purple background by thesmarti.


What I do know is that life is short - it can pass very quickly. And it's also very long - it gets repetitive and we forget it's preciousness. So I love designing events like this. Not only because it sprinkles novelty back into life. But because it helps us break up our own tired perspectives. This Dragonfly Ceremony suspended life for an instant! Even if imaginary. And then it broadened the life experience in infinite directions to help us all remember just how connected we are and how expansive life can be. If we want it.


Cheers to another unique event in the books and the dragonflies it broughtto life!

smarti











LATEST POSTS

POST ARCHIVE

bottom of page