Toward the new year...

Tonight's is the second full moon of the month, a blue moon this is called. Since these are so rare, it's exciting to me that this is also new year's eve, when we finalize our intentions for the new year and let go of our burdens from the old. I have finished writing my intentions for the new year in the journal my husband and I keep for this purpose, and I look forward to burning our yule log tomorrow, symbolizing that we are setting in motion the energy needed to actualize our intentions. Although every day, every moment is the perfect time to begin anew, to change outworn habits and find motivation to try something else, the new year is so symbolic and culturally a recognized time for resolutions. With the new year and the full moon, this is a perfect opportunity to invite the energy of growth and change. Set your intentions and find joy in the path toward their realization.

The Growing Edge

I knew a Jungian therapist years ago who used to talk about the growing edge, that space within your experience where you feel trepidation, uncertainty, anger, despair...anything that makes you feel that you've reached a cliff-hanger on your journey toward enlightenment and full potential. What you do when you find yourself here will determine the nature and extent of your growth. Will you turn away from what you're feeling and retreat, locking the truth of your experience inside, from where it will manifest later in unconscious ways? Will you stand at the cliff, immobilized and demoralized? Or will you look around, take stock of where you are and what support you have, and then take a leap of faith, propelling yourself toward the next leg of your journey?

When you reach a growing edge, as I have once again, may you rally support from your allies, say a prayer of faith and gratitude for another opportunity to grow, and then leap with the clear intention to fly.

Today, A Poem

"To Look At Any Thing" by John Moffitt

To look at any thing,

If you would know that thing,

You must look at it long:

To look at this green and say

"I have seen spring in these

woods," will not do--you must

Be the thing you see:

You must be the dark snakes of

Stems and ferny plumes of leaves,

You must enter in

To the small silences between

The leaves,

You must take your time

And touch the very peace

They issue from.

Everything You Do...

One of my mentors often says, "Everything you do is like everything you do." There is so much wisdom in this, and I've begun to really ponder what this means. The person who rushes, is always busy, is always late will bring these qualities to every act she attempts. The person who holds deep-rooted anger inside will find many situations in life which flare his anger. The person who feels like the world is out to get her will continually be defeated by circumstances she thinks are beyond her control.

This is because these qualities are within us, not external to us. It is not the broken-down bus blocking traffic that makes us late; it is our own habits and energies. Some even claim that, as a part of universal consciousness, we create each and every situation in which we find ourselves. In this understanding, we have created the broken-down bus to teach ourselves a lesson...most likely about mindfulness, patience, being in the moment, even about preparation and flexibility.

So I ask myself, What energies do I want to bring to everything I do? I want to dispense with perfectionism, with rigidity, with egotism; in their place, I want to cultivate equanimity, flexibility, compassion. Let us be people who are mindful, honest, and compassionate with ourselves about the energies we bring to everything we do. Let us be conscious, choosing those energies that, instead of deflating us, best serve us and the world.

On Christmas Eve

Here's wishing you and your loved ones a joy-filled Christmas. May your homes be filled with warmth and good cheer. May your lives and hearts be filled with peace, love, and faith in God's blessings. May you be healthy and well. May you find more pleasure in people than in things. May you find more joy than sorrow, and may any sorrow you find serve only to strengthen you. May you share your best self with the world. May you be continually blessed.

Peace, peace, peace.

Namaste

Simple pleasures

Last night, I heard V. laughing in her sleep. Of course, I don't know what she was dreaming about that made her laugh, but I can imagine it was some simple pleasure: petting the cat, crinkling a leaf in her hand, hearing the keys in the door as L. or I arrive home, standing on her own two feet.

Such are the things that delight her and that can delight us all when we change our perspective and our priorities. What a wise teacher she is. Here are some of my simple pleasures: watching the lights on the Christmas tree in the dark of the morning, listening to holiday music with my family in the evening, taking V. to the park where she notices the Mallards for the first time, hearing V. laugh in her sleep. And here's to some of yours...

Dyana

Last night, I had many dreams: of my mother and her husband, of doing laundry (clearly about cleaning up what I carry from the past), of a dear friend I haven't seen in too many years but whose lovely blog I read regularly (Sassy Suppers). Right before waking this morning, I dreamed of meditating. I was in a large group of people who were given instruction from our teacher that we should sit in meditation for 20 million hours. The teacher left us with a mantra, the only part of which that I remember was the word dyana, which is one of the niyamas (or observances) in the tradition of Ashtanga yoga which I practice and teach. Dyana means meditation. (My subconscious was instructing me to meditate on meditating? Perhaps this is a message that it is time to deepen my practice.)

Instead of using this mantra, though, I used my real mantra, the one my teacher gave me when I formally began a meditation practice. In my dream, I repeated my mantra over and over, while another part of me kept dreaming: of looking for the girl called "Ladybug" (which happens to be a once-used nickname my mother gave me). When I awoke, I was still repeating my mantra, which is such a wonderful way to awaken.

Sitting for my waking-life meditation, I felt calm and content. Lately, I have been working to lengthen my meditation, and the longer period seemed to float by today as I quietly sat. I feel that my dream was auspicious, though I haven't yet fully digested and integrated all of its meaning. I am on the right path.

Happy Solstice!

Today marks the Winter Solstice, when we will enjoy the longest night of the year. After this, the days begin to lengthen again as the sun comes back into the world. We typically find and decorate our Yule tree right before Solstice and take whatever holiday handmade cheer we've made for our friends to them on this day. (With so much time being invested with our 10-month old now, we've decided to refrain from the card-sending and gift-making this year.)

On Solstice eve, we begin to contemplate our intentions for the new year, and we have a special notebook in which we collect our individual lists about what we hope to invite into our lives, release from our lives, or accomplish with our lives. We allow ourselves the 12 days from Solstice eve until New Years to ruminate, thinking about the past year and what we hope for the year ahead. We collect our intentions, and then we burn a special Yule log on New Years day to ritualize our intentions, ritual being such a vital way of recognizing Divine presence, asking for Divine assistance, and activating the energy we need in ourselves to accomplish our goals. Those intentions that are strictly private, that we don't want to share or record in our notebook are written on scraps of paper and tossed into the fire of the Yule log as it burns, which is such a symbolic way of "voicing" intention and then letting go...of the "hows" that will accomplish the outcome as well as the outcome itself. We offer our wishes up to the wisdom of the Divine; pray for peace and well-being for our family, friends, and the world; and extend our gratitude for the year we have moved through.

Today, I wish you a happy and joy-filled Solstice as we also prepare to celebrate Christmas, when we recognize a different son whose presence has changed the world.

Perfect

I remember reading a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox when I was younger; it was called "Whatever Is, Is Best." And one of my teachers, the marvelous Shri of Bliss Yoga Shala, often reminds her students, "Everything is perfect, or nothing is perfect." I love this saying, because it makes me pause, reflect, redirect when I'm feeling discouraged or disappointed or confused. If we can believe either half of this equation, then why not choose to believe everything is indeed perfect? There is a Divine plan at work, one larger than we can see or imagine. When we let go and flow with what is, we are swept into a current that will take us to places we are meant to be, where we can learn what we are meant to learn, grow as we're meant to grow. And how perfect that is.

So, here's wishing you a lovely and perfect weekend.

Gratitude Changes Everything...Or, More Synchronicity

Yesterday, I wrote about synchronicity. Today, I want to write about it again, just to share the fact that it is always occurring; we only need to open our eyes to it.

Last week, I finished a two-week long series of posts that were designed to cultivate my sense of gratitude for and appreciation of this house we own. And just yesterday came news we had been waiting to hear since September: we were able to lower our interest rate significantly, thereby lowering our monthly payment more than I could have hoped. Given this blessing, it really will behoove us financially to stay where we are for a bit longer...how glad I am that I've been practicing loving this place and having faith in a Divine plan.

What about you? Where is synchronicity showing up in your life?

Wisdom in Unexpected Places

I believe that there are no coincidences; instead, I believe in synchronicity, that everything is connected and has meaning. I know that there are signs in my life, messages from the divine pointing out things I should pay attention to or do. Yet sometimes I don't see them, and I wonder if my vision is too cluttered or if I'm being too lazy to follow through on what they suggest.

Lately, I've been asking for guidance on what work I should do; I've been wanting to know if I'm on the right path. So yesterday, I prayed that I would see the signs I needed to see. I prayed this as I was sitting in a coffee shop, crocheting. Immediately following my prayer, a woman sat in the plush seat next to mine and struck up a conversation with me; it started with crocheting and moved on to finding time to be creative and then stumbled over to work.

What do you do? I asked

I'm a teacher.

Really? Me too. What do you teach?

English.

Really?

So do I. Where?

I adjunct at the community college and the university.

Amazing! I work as a professor at the university.

Synchronicity.

And, as we were talking, another woman passed by the window outside and stopped to wave at me. She is my dear friend, a yoga teacher, and the person who most inspired me to study and teach yoga myself.

Synchronicity.

I asked to see signs, and I did. But what did they mean? When I asked my so-wise husband, he replied matter-of-factly, "You're a teacher." Yes, I teach. But what and where am I meant to teach? Thinking about the idea of dharma (purpose/right action), I realize that my dharma is to teach and that the other questions answer themselves. If I feel dissatisfied in a situation, it is because I am struggling against the moment in which I find myself, rather than accepting it, moving through it, letting it show me its wisdom. So, at an even deeper level, my dharma is simply to be in this moment without struggle, to witness, to learn, to act based on what I know, to act based on faith. Each moment has its wisdom. Each moment is perfect for its purpose. I am exactly where I should be.

I am grateful for answered prayers. And for synchronicity.

Connection

So, on to the post I had intended for yesterday...

Sometimes, life presents us with those challenges, those opportunities that really let us know how strong we are, how strong a friendship is, how strong a family is. Sunday was such a day for my family, by whom I have been continually amazed. My mother has 13 brothers and sisters, and they seem surprisingly connected, despite the physical distance that separates many of them. I have known all my life that I (or even my loved ones without me) could arrive unannounced at the doorstep of any one of them (or even of their children) and be welcomed in, warmed, fed, given a place to sleep. I have known this, even though I don't know each and every one of them well.

I have seen other families that live relatively close to each other that don't seem very connected at all. I have seen other families whose members treat each other cruelly, really not putting love into action. I have seen other families that have broken or drifted apart because of dysfunction or lack of motivation. I am not claiming that my family is perfect, but it is strong, welcoming, and connected.

What is it that allows such connections? How are they fostered and maintained? I am not entirely sure. Of course, I might look to effort as a key factor: a yearly family reunion that many travel long distances to attend; commitment to being with those who are undergoing hardship; even the prayer circle one of my aunts has formed through email, alerting us all to the happenings and needs of various people in the family. I might also look to joy as a factor: a genuine pleasure in each other's company, a genuine love and concern for each other's well-being. I can also look to upbringing, knowing that my grandmother and grandfather were remarkable people and very effective parents to create such a strong and connected brood.

Since Sunday, I've been thinking about this connectedness within my family and wondering how this connection is formed and fostered and how it can extend beyond our immediate or extended families, how it can even reach those we don't know well or at all. I've heard people say that we don't choose our families, but we can choose our friends, and I wonder if this is the most helpful way to think about the challenges of relationships. It can seem easier, less painful, to distance oneself when difficulties arise, but connection isn't fostered in this way, and connection is really valuable. Others form a circle around their family, their "tribe," and refuse to allow others in; we see the effects of this on much larger levels throughout the world's societies.

Yet if we learn to truly love and remain committed to those within our families (whether they are formed by birth or by choice), we can grow in deep and significant ways. And if we can extend the strong love, affection, and loyalty we feel toward our families to those we don't know as well, we can spread seeds of peace and justice far beyond our circles of experience.

This is a season ripe with the possibility of goodwill and connection. Indeed, this is a season when these sentiments are almost easy. Let's think about how we've come to feel this cheerfulness and solidarity now. And let's work to extend this practice even when the season ends and we enter a new year, fresh for new beginnings.

Resting

I woke up late today (5:30AM) and so don't have the minutes right now to write the post I had intended. But how lovely to sleep in a bit and to wake up to a morning that is still, foggy, and dark. Now that the semester has ended, I find my body and mind sinking into the idea of rest, relishing it in the way one does a soft, warm bed on a cold and rainy morning. It's so nice to have a span of time free from deadlines and (for the most part) schedules. It is at these times that we see what is really important to us. For me, it's still taking the time to meditate, making my way to an early morning personal practice of yoga, and writing something here, even if what I had intended to write must wait until tomorrow...or later. Prioritizing my own well-being very early each morning allows me to care for myself and still be home not long after L. and V. awaken, so that I can be present with and enjoy my sweet and precious little family.

I hope, as we enjoy this busy holiday time, that you, too, are getting the rest you need and nurturing yourself in your favorite ways. Be well and be present!

Bloom Where You're Planted

I like this gentle maxim, to bloom where you're planted. This is a good reminder for me, especially since following it can be challenging at times. For the past two weeks, I have been trying to bloom in this way by finding the "curves and corners" in this house that I can love. And, I must say, that I feel more settled, more at peace here than I did before. Even though we are still trying to sell it, I am taking more pride in this house, doing the work to make it as sound and comfortable as we can while we are still here.

I have made similar efforts with this city even, a fact of which I was reminded recently when I met yet another person who said that Jacksonville doesn't offer anything that could keep her here. She believes, like so many others I've spoken with, that this town is like an awkward adolescent that doesn't know what it wants to be when it grows up, that it is lacking leadership and a clear vision for its future. L. and I have felt this way about the city, too, and we have watched a steady stream of our friends and compatriots drift away to cities that have already ripened into their full glow and offer much more in the way of cultural sustenance and progressive politics. We are still here, in part because we wonder what we might be able to build here; we wonder how we might be part of a small movement to make this city somewhere we really feel pleased to be living.

So we remind ourselves to bloom where we are planted. It is this acceptance of right here, right now, that allows us to really flourish where we are. Conversely, it can also bring the wind that will transplant us to the next garden where we are supposed to root ourselves and grow.

Corner No. 4

In the two years we've owned this house, we haven't yet had the fireplace and chimney inspected, so we haven't used them. Now that V. is here, I enjoy it so much anyway because it's one more space she tries to explore. Everything is new to me when I try to see it as she does.

Corner No. 3

Sometimes I look out the window of this Florida home and see something that looks more like the northeast on a cold and overcast winter day. Imagining that it's colder outside than it usually is, I feel safe, warm, and cozy inside. On these days, mopping, dusting, laundering, and other duties feel more like nesting, and I begin to enjoy the chores as both a meditation and a means to an end: the sense of calm and order that are allowed by a tidy house on a day when I have no where else to be other than home with my family. And if there's time for L. and I to squeeze in a movie on dvd while V. is sleeping, well, that's cozy indeed!

Corner No. 2

Even in this house we've been trying to leave, I see much beauty and I find much solace. I meditate in the living room every morning and find that the space is infused with peace.

Corner No. 1

I'm venturing inside this week, still trying to love this space we're in, so here are a few corners of this house that I enjoy. First, the front door that we added, especially since now a small girl's jacket hangs next to it.

Curve No. 5

Yes, I do realize that all of these curves of my home have been outside and that this last one isn't my home at all but a home for birds on one of our crape myrtle trees. Still, I'm pleased that I've found so much I do like about this place we are trying to leave. Next week, perhaps, I will finally get around to the "corners" I like inside, which might be a greater challenge.

Curve No. 4

These windows at the back of the house were the first part of it that we saw as we drove by one day. We loved them...their curves, the way they open out. The house didn't have a for sale sign on it, but we saw work being done and thought Wouldn't it be great if someone were fixing this up to sell? And someone was.

Curve No. 3

I love this fountain my mother gave me for my birthday one year. It sits on our back deck, surrounded by acacia palms.

Curve No. 2

There are arches across our front porch, lending a "softer" look to brick and mortar. We've tucked some wind chimes here, and I love to hear them when the wind blows or when I hold a now-heavy V. up high so that she can make them chime.