Yesterday, At the Park

togetherness

loveliness

playfulness

openness

groundedness

gracefulness

Something New

I was just writing here about doing something out of the ordinary, moving beyond the box, and life presented me (and a number of others) with a wonderful opportunity. The musician Wah! came to visit a local yoga studio; she taught a yoga class and then led the group in chanting. Even though attending this event took me away from V. for a few night-time hours, L. convinced me that she would be fine and that I could feel free to go.

What a wonderful experience...Wah! teaches from traditions that are new to me, as I'd never taken classes from teachers of Bihar, Kundalini, or Anusara yoga. Wah! utilizes each of these traditions in her classes, so I was able to experience new ways to practice yoga and inhabit my body. She had us inching on our backs and bellies like worms, slithering sideways like snakes, all to wake up our spines. She encouraged active engagement of the back and openness in the heart. She taught us challenging and useful ways to strengthen our wrists and to open into Vashistasana. I loved that she continually asked us what we placed upon our breath, since breath is an amplifier of energy. Whatever we placed there we were both drawing in and sending out into the world; conscious connection not just with the sound and quality of the breath but with the breath as prayer was a valuable way to experience it. Similarly, I appreciated her emphasis on yoga as a way to generate a free flow of energy in the body and, consequently, in life.

I stayed for some of the chanting before heading home, and I felt both energized and relaxed. My body felt "lit up" and charged, as if every cell had been bathed in light. I felt balanced, physically and emotionally. I felt that expansion in the chest that accompanies feelings of love, peace, and goodwill. This morning, those qualities are still with me, as is the lovely sensation of muscles that have been used in unaccustomed ways.

I'm glad I was able to move outside of several of my boxes, and I'm grateful to Wah! and Adishakti Yoga Kula (and of course my dear L.) for the opportunity.

Choose the Good Ones

Meditation teaches us to control the mind, rather than letting it control us. I have heard people who feared meditation, thinking that it was simply an effort to empty the mind, as if then it would be ripe soil for the implantation of any idea. This is not the case; in fact, when we have learned how to control our thoughts, we have a much better capacity to choose which thoughts serve us, which thoughts don't. We are better able to evaluate what we think, rather than believing all of the thoughts that continually bombard our minds.

There is a great deal of relief that can come from recognizing we do not need to keep every thought we have, that we can change our thoughts and thereby change our sentiments. Consider, for example, the difference between thinking "I have to do this work" versus "I get to do this work." Talk about lightening a load so many bear!

What thoughts are you having that don't serve you well, that drain your energy or depress you? And how can these be changed so that your load is lightened, your mind is eased? As one motto I've heard states, "Thoughts become things, so choose the good ones.

Giving Permission

How good it feels to give ourselves permission...to do something out of the ordinary, to deviate from the routine, to sleep in, to take a break, to slow down.

You may notice that I'm posting this entry around lunchtime today, rather than between 5:00 and 6:00 in the morning, as I usually do. Instead of stressing about all I wanted to do before heading to a 6AM yoga class, I let myself be. I went to yoga, knowing what a benefit it is for me to start my day with movement and meditation. I wasn't sure I would have time to blog at all today, even though I've made a commitment to five days per week of writing here. But, lo and behold, V. is napping, I've responded to my students' writing assignments online, and here I still have a few minutes to write.

My experience today of going with the flow, of allowing myself to step back, of taking time for relaxation and renewal is an apt lesson for me (and perhaps for many of us). "So much to do, so little time" doesn't need to be our mantra. In fact, when we slow down, let go, and flow with what life presents to us, we often have more than enough time to do that which is important to us.

Equally beneficial is adopting this attitude with other people as well; being less onerous with others as well as ourselves allows fresh energy, joy, and ease to enter our lives. Yes, we'll likely be more productive, but more importantly, we'll all be more happy and relaxed. And, given the statistic I learned today, that 70 to 90% of visits to the doctor's office are stress related, it sounds like most of us ought to be much easier on ourselves. Start giving yourself permission.

Unconditional

I was thinking about unconditional love this morning, feeling how much I love V., and then I read this post on the Natural Parenting Center blog. These thoughts couldn't come on a better morning, as I have had almost no sleep, having nursed V. for what felt like most of the night. When I wasn't nursing her, I was trying to find space in bed next to her, as she tossed and turned, taking up more space than one would imagine a little body could occupy. (I do love how she sleeps, though, arms and legs wide, owning her own space freely.)

Even though I am a person who has always needed many hours of sleep and who has been known to be highly irritable when I don't get it, I did everything I could to give V. what she needed. Of course, I know that I can't sacrifice my own health, that I need to be well in order to best care for her, but what I was able to give her last night wasn't that kind of a sacrifice. What I did sacrifice was well worth the comfort and sense of security she received. Most of the time, I think of any sacrifice I might be making as an investment in her, and her well-being is worth more than I can say.

I'm not advocating that we give to the point of depletion, but I do think the act of prioritizing others' well-being is an important one. If we can bring simply a minute amount of the unconditional love we try to give our children to our interactions with others, how different might our relationships and our perceptions be? How different might our world be? Wouldn't this be worth the effort as well?

"Expect Nothing"

"Expect Nothing"

by Alice Walker

Expect nothing. Live frugally

On surprise.

become a stranger

To need of pity

Or, if compassion be be freely

Given out

Take only enough

Stop short of urge to plead

Then purge away the need.

Wish for nothing larger

Than your own small heart

Or greater than a star;

Tame wild disappointment

With caress unmoved and cold

Make of it a parka

For your soul.

Discover the reason why

So tiny human midget

Exists at all

So scared unwise

But expect nothing. Live frugally

On surprise.

So What?

Discipline can be a useful attribute. We try to teach it to children. We highlight it in job interviews. We recognize its value in fulfilling our dreams. Self-discipline has been an easy fixture in my life for as long as I can remember; I was an only child, a "good" child, and determined to reach my goals. I was also and have remained something of a perfectionist, which is not such an easy trait to have.

Lately, when my car is messier than I would like it, the desk where I write this is cluttered with mail, and the floor needs vacuuming, I've been questioning the line between discipline and perfectionism and wondering if I can be more accepting of less. By that I mean I wonder if I can finally allow myself the clutter, the mess, the dishes in the sink overnight if it means more time for the BIG things, the things that really matter.

Since synchronicity is there when I look for it, yesterday I noticed one of the blogs I love to read, through Natural Parenting Center, posted the perfect reply for my query: who's in charge here? Kris's message was perfect: ask yourself, So what?

The dishes weren't done last night. So what?

I haven't opened my mail in days. So what?

My car is messy (because I'm usually ferrying the baby and have no extra hands for that travel mug). So what?

Kris is right; this game becomes fun, mainly because it is so liberating. Of course I will likely do the dishes when I wake up in the morning; I will eventually open my mail; I will clean my car before ants invade. All of these honestly minor details will be handled in due time. In the meantime, I've relaxed with L. and V. after dinner. I've typed an email to a student rather than opened the mail. I've carried and hugged my baby without juggling trash. I've breathed more easily. I've let my shoulders drop away from my ears. I've remembered what matters.

Try it today; ask yourself, So what? And allow yourself the lightness that comes as an answer.

More from MLK / More on Work & Play

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.’” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

What a fitting addition to my posts from earlier this year on working simply to earn a living versus loving the work you're doing. Wise words from a wise man these are...about taking pride in what one does and doing the best one can in everything. With this attitude, perhaps even work can resemble play. There is joy in effort. There is a lesson in each task. There is wisdom everywhere.

My Responsibility

In Ashtanga yoga, another of the yamas (restraints) is asteya, which means non-stealing. This is not a hard precept for me to follow, yet recently I've been thinking about additional responsibilities that might sprout from this tenet. Several times, I have seen one of the children who lives across the street from me, a boy of about seven or eight years old, head to the corner store. Moments later, I've seen the same boy tearing down the street, speeding back to his house and looking back over his shoulder. With the tell-tale shirt end-as-shopping bag, I have little doubt of his activities.

I've been wondering, what is my responsibility here? Do I tell the store owner to keep an eye out for young thieves? Do I approach the boy's mother? Do I approach the boy himself, possibly asking what his church, which I see his spruced-up family leaving to attend some Sundays, teaches about stealing? My conscience tells me that I should do something, even if what I do has no long-term impact. For if I do nothing then I, too, am in effect guilty.

A Better World

"Almost always, the creative dedicated minority has made the world better."

--Martin Luther King, Jr.

Yesterday, I suggested to the students in my yoga class that they dedicate their practice to something meaningful, such as the people and creatures of Haiti or some other intention close to their hearts. Such a dedication turns acts into prayers in motion; it ritualizes them in a profound way, and I am convinced that the energy of such an intention is a powerful force. God hears prayers, yes, and ritualizing them helps us to focus and direct our own hearts, minds, and abilities.

As I think about this belief that I hold, I also think about my literature students this semester, whom I've asked to dedicate time to a social justice cause that they feel passionately about; this project, in turn, ties in with what we will be reading and discussing in class. Some students are volunteering at the Humane Society while others have chosen offer their time to the campus Women's Center. Still others want to be an advocate for children in the foster care system. Already I am impressed by the level of concern and motivation that many of them have shown, and I feel better about the classroom experience as a whole. For if we are not there to consider how we live and think outside the classroom, then what good, really, is the literature classroom at all?

Since I have asked this of others, I also ask it of myself, so I'm pondering to what I dedicate my time, efforts, and abilities. Overall, I am dedicated to my own spiritual growth and to fostering peace, love, and light in the world (mainly through teaching in various realms). But how does that look, really? Right now, when so much of my time is dedicated to my young and ever-growing daughter, I can feel pressed for time to volunteer. I know that dedicating my time to her is making the world better as I help her learn and grow in positive ways, but I've been wondering what she and I might do together beyond ourselves, how we might together work to better others' lives, to better the world. Maybe by visiting nursing homes... Maybe by walking on the beach and picking up the trash we see... Maybe by something else I have yet to imagine. As Martin Luther King said, changing the world takes dedication and creativity, so I'm looking for creative options right now that can involve V. in simple efforts to make the world better.

If you have suggestions, I'm certainly open to them. And I'm curious to know how you're making a difference as well, in big or small ways. Are you dedicated to sustainable living and bring your reusable bags to the grocery store? Are you homeschooling your children or simply raising them in a way that allows you to contribute thoughtful/thought-filled people to the world? Do you start each day with prayer and/or intention? Are you a volunteer somewhere? Inspire us with your stories. Share your creativity and dedication. Let us know how you're hoping to make the world better, how you're ritualizing your prayers.

A light and a prayer...

...for the people of Haiti. May they be freed from suffering. Loka Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu.

The Word

Language is a creative force; it's powerful. As a literature teacher, I've told many students about the importance of precise language, because language can change things; words create worlds, as the Biblical Genesis story tells us.

The author of The Four Agreements, a wise little book on Toltec wisdom, writes that we must be impeccable with our word, meaning that we should be careful what we say and how we say it. Similarly, I read several years ago an article in Yoga Journal about "right speech." This author suggested three questions be asked before any utterance: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? What a powerful change we could make in our relationships with others if we thoughtfully answered these questions to ourselves before we spoke, if we made an effort to "be impeccable with our word."

In the realm of yoga, we recognize this duty as satya, which means truthfulness and is one of the yamas (restraints). Indeed, we can understand the amount of restraint necessary to utter only that which is true, and even more restraint is demanded if we are to speak only from the heart. I think the final question is particularly important since speaking too much drains untold amounts of energy, as if we are setting too much creative force in motion without having enough "hands" to direct and shape it.

In addition to speaking the truth, we must also speak our truth, since failing to do so will block our lives from their fullest potential; many say that failing to speak one's truth shuts now the throat chakra, and I know that holding in what I need to say makes my throat feel tight, constricted, even painful. I am convinced this is why I contracted strep throat every winter for years of my life.

Still, right speech is a challenge. Personally, I am much less challenged by speaking the truth than I am by speaking my own truth, as I can often be quiet and reserved. My name itself is a reminder to me, not only to speak honestly but to be true to my highest self in word and deed.

Words are powerful tools for shaping our world. Think about what it is you want to create, and choose your words wisely.

Let's "Kill Our Television"

You've seen that bumper sticker that demands, "Kill Your T.V.," right? I've been thinking about that lately. I have a dear friend who grew up without a T.V. Her family would watch videos on a computer monitor when they wanted recorded entertainment. Overall, my friend felt the experience was so beneficial that she made sure her husband was okay with them not owning a television. I've always admired her for that, for recognizing that there is so much that can be experienced and enjoyed without the mind-boggling and mind-numbing device.

Before I met my husband, I didn't have cable or satellite T.V. With the limited number of channels available, I rarely watched it at all, but I would occasionally rent movies. I read. I cooked. I practiced yoga. I studied. I worked. I walked. I listed to books on c.d. I spent time outside. I sat. I dreamed. I played with my cats.

After I met my husband, who is a sports lover extraordinaire, I argued admirably against paying for extra T.V. channels; I didn't win the argument then, and in many ways I've enjoyed the ability to watch National Geographic, Planet Green, even Food Network, and I've felt the ease of ordering a movie from the computer rather than heading out to the video store. But I don't want V. to grow up surrounded so much by the flash and fastness of the T.V. I want her to be a child who can entertain herself, who can enjoy quality time with her family by playing games or reading or taking a walk or baking something special. I want the T.V. to be a background appliance, like the blender. We can turn it on when it might be useful in some way, but we don't want its buzz in our ears all the time.

So recently I mentioned my desire to L. again (yes, I know this is football playoff season!). V. understands so much already; she's already pointing to the c.d. player when she wants to hear music. I didn't want her pointing to the T.V. to tell us she wants to watch a mixed martial arts fight or "House Hunters International." And I didn't want to sit, numbing myself with visions of houses I will never buy rather than cleaning the one I have!

Given the amazing and loving husband that he is, L. hasn't turned the T.V. on in days, and I've been blissed out by the joy of sitting in the living room after dinner, listening to Native American flute music, crocheting, watching L. and V. play on the carpet, putting my crocheting down when V. makes her way over to me. Evenings feel more peaceful, their rhythm slower. This feels like quality time with my family...and with a much better soundtrack too.

Give it a try with us; just for five days, keep the T.V. off. Cover it up even. Now, what will you do? And how will you feel?

Letting Go to Grow

Babies are amazing teachers. We've been watching V. learning how to walk. I see her holding onto the couch, letting it go as she turns around, taking a step, then reaching down as she squats to lower herself to her hands and knees again; bit by bit, she's gaining confidence and recognizing how to balance herself. She moves through a natural fear of falling, lets go of the couch, moves forward, grows.

With her as my guide, I've entered this new year with an unconscious intention to release fear. This wasn't a formalized intention, written in the journal L. and I keep for our list of "resolutions," but since the year began I've found myself doing things I had been timid about doing before. I've let go of compulsions driven by fear, and I've been stepping out of my comfort zone. This letting go has allowed me a new confidence in other areas as well. On my yoga mat, for example, I've been bolder as I work on my headstand, a pose that has intimidated me for years.

I've been doing headstands, but I've been doing them with my back touching a wall, and my legs have been bowed away from the wall like a banana. Even though I knew the wall was behind me, I have feared falling over and have worried that such a fall would hurt my back. Lately, though, I've moved a few more inches away from the wall and don't feel the need to touch it before I begin to enter headstand. I've felt a new tightening in my core as I move my heels over my hips, rather than letting my feet stay in front of them. I feel more balanced between my elbows and hands, more stable overall, and I'm holding the pose for a few more breaths; bit by bit, I'm gaining confidence, recognizing balance, moving past fear, growing...thanks to my little guru-V.

The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweeps your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

*********

Knowing ourselves, as Rumi reminds us in this poem, demands that we pay attention to the things we would rather not acknowledge. Yet we must welcome ourselves fully to the guest house of our own lives, our own humanness. Welcome to you today; what do you finding waiting in the room of your soul?

Time Enough

(Since this is a post about time, and in the interest of being efficient with mine this morning, I'm reaching back into an archive of my first blog; this particular post is from June 2009.)

I recently read that if we change our relationship to time, we will realize we have enough of it. How do we go about that? I wonder. It seems I’m in the midst of that particular dance now that I invest my days with my daughter. At three-and-a-half months of age, she is unpredictable, without schedule, demanding that I be present in the moment NOW. To do this, I can no longer linger at my computer, working on an academic article in four-hour blocks. When she falls asleep in the mornings, if I’m not needing a nap myself, I hop to the computer for twenty? thirty? sixty? minutes of work. At first, I thought I wouldn’t be able to shift my thinking quickly enough, that I wouldn’t have enough time to go deeply enough to do the kind of thinking such writing demands. But this morning, in thirty minutes, I made enough head-way on the article at hand that I feel close to finishing...likely sometime this week. And, surprise of all surprises, Vee has been sleeping this afternoon for nearly three hours! (Yes, she’s breathing; I checked.) I’ve had time aplenty to start dinner, crochet, dabble with the article again, and write this blog entry. My time is invested differently now, and it comes in shorter blocks, but today I find that by changing my relationship with it, I do indeed have time enough.

*********

It is particularly fitting that I remember this now that Vee is 10-months old and more active then ever. Sleep is still not a predictable time when I'm guaranteed to have my hands free, but lately Vee has been napping much better without me nearby (two hours on Tuesday, and I'm certain yesterday's nap would have been equally long if not for the FedEx man). Since I am back to teaching at the university, I'm catching moments when and where I can to do what needs to be done, and I'm savoring each and every one with her.

Simplify

Thoreau's mandate to "Simplify! Simplify!" has resonated with me since I first read Walden in high school. Even then, I wanted to savor the moments rather than clutter life with endless activities, perhaps because as an only child I was accustomed to having time to walk in the woods and daydream. Now that I am an working parent, I often long for those days when the self-imposed demands on my time were my only consideration and constraint. Lately, I've been thinking about how much I'm doing, even though I still reserve time for simply being, mainly when I'm meditating and practicing yoga.

There are times, though, when I feel too busy, and I see many people filling up every minute of the day and losing time for being. Rushing from a dentist appointment to work to a meeting to work to a volunteer effort to work to exercise to...even sounds exhausting, and I can't imagine trying to experience it without feeling like I was living on autopilot. People whose minds and bodies are constantly active eventually find it difficult to stop moving or even to slow down. These often are people whose non-active times are numbed with television, phones, video games, even novels.

Cultivating time for stillness, however that looks in one's life, is imperative for a healthy mind, body, and spirit. Stillness includes meditation and prayer, but it also includes contemplative walks or time in a church, synagogue, temple, or nature. Even the pause at a traffic light can be transformed into a moment of pure being: Turn off the radio. Let your hands relax on the steering wheel. Let your shoulders drop away from your ears. Breathe. Notice what changes.

Gather these moments where you find them, and carve out larger blocks of time to cultivate stillness. You will likely find your doings are more productive, mindful, and joyful when you have practiced being.

Epiphany

In many Christian religions, today is celebrated as the Epiphany. It is a day that commemorates the incarnation of Jesus Christ, the visit of the Magi to the manger, and Jesus's childhood through his baptism by John the Baptist. I don't know why I've always loved this feast day, but the season of Christmas to me seems to conclude today, not on the 25th of December or New Year's Eve. Since I was a child the Epiphany has always reminded me of the star the Magi followed to find Jesus, and I think of cold nights in the desert and the warmth of an unlikely shelter filled with animals.

The word epiphany also means a moment of revelation or insight, in other words, a moment of enlightenment, and perhaps this is another reason why I like this day. It reminds me of something a wise woman used to tell me: "After disillusionment comes enlightenment." After the dark comes the light. What an crucial reality to remember. When we feel the shadow side of our emotions (which is important to feel), when we struggle with challenges in our lives, when we find ourselves in seasons of discontent, we can inspect the shadow, work through the challenges, live through the seasons by remembering that they, too, are fleeting moments to be embraced. After they have passed, we are sure to find the bright, the ease, the contentment...if only for yet another fleeting moment.

Life, like nature, like the seasons, is cyclical. Yes, this moment is all there is, but we know that after it has evaporated, another moment awaits. And who's to know what it holds? Each is a surprise, a mystery, a gift awaiting our presence.

Do What You Love / Love What You Do

Yesterday, I asked if the metaphysical and Buddhist philosophies could be reconciled, if we can do what we love, sure that the "money will follow," or if we should love what we're doing, knowing that each moment is an opportunity for growth and each act has the potential to cultivate equanimity in us. Today, I'm thinking that maybe the exercise of "loving" whatever it is we find ourselves doing is what will ultimately allow the universe to conspire on our behalf. If we can accept where we are, without struggle, perhaps that will open the floodgates of opportunity and allow us to see the synchronicity that is always present. With acceptance, we can imagine something else (without the struggle of desire) and still remain content with the moment, whether we are cleaning the bathtub and doing the dishes or whether we are attending a yoga class and spending time with family. Loving each moment for what it can offer us seems to be the surest way of finding peace and maybe even prosperity too.

Today

Today begins a new semester at the university. I've been thinking so much about the work that I do, that we all do, and the saying that we are better off working to live rather than living to work. I've been thinking about SARK, the artist and writer, who says, "Do what you love, and the money will follow." I want to believe this is true. But will I be paid enough to help support a household by meditating, practicing and teaching yoga, and writing? I suppose, in the right circumstances, the answer could be a resounding YES! Now, to create those circumstances...

SARK's words stem from the popular belief that we create our own realities, set our own limitations, and manifest our dreams through the thoughts we think, the beliefs we hold. Acknowledging that the entire universe is connected, that one action can spark another far distant one, I do believe that how we approach the world is instrumental in the way the world will "respond" to us.

On the other hand, I'm also aware of the Buddhist thinking that everything we do, even scrubbing the bathtub or mowing the lawn, provides an opportunity for awareness and enlightenment. In that sense, doing what we love and making money for it really aren't even the point. The point is acceptance and equanimity, moment-by-moment mindfulness.

So can these two philosophies, the metaphysical and the Buddhist, be reconciled? Should they be?

Perhaps tomorrow I'll work on answering those questions. Today, though, I need to head to my yoga practice before making the trek to campus, where I will try to remain in the moment and grateful for work that pays the bills and just might be making a difference in the world.

Happy New Year!

To celebrate the coming new year, last night L., V. and I went to a concert featuring 16th Century Tibetan sound bowls and ancient Incan whistles. The sounds of these vessels are attuned to specific chakras and are said to balance the brain hemispheres. Beyond sounding absolutely lovely, the instruments have a noticeable effect on one's state of mind; listening to them becomes a meditation, and I could feel the reverberation of sound within my head, as if the sound were gently massaging my brain. It felt as if we were all receiving a metaphysical "tune-up" of sorts, and I thought it was a particularly fitting way to enter the new year. Coupled with the fantastic massage I received yesterday, I'd say my new year's eve was delightful and enriching. I hope yours was too, and I wish the same for your new year.