Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Partnering and Parenting


Yesterday, L. and I had our first date in eight and a half months! It wasn't the most extravagant or the longest or the farthest from home, but it was absolutely perfect. My dear friend R. came over to watch V. while L. and I went to a nearby park to have a lunch-time picnic and play cards. (Thank you, thank you, thank you, R.!) On our way to the park, L. looked at me and said, "This is weird." He was right; it's been over eight months since we've both ridden in the front seat of a car together. It's been over eight months since we've gone anywhere together without our daughter.

Wow.

Since this was V.'s first time ever being watched by someone other than us, I felt a bit of trepidation...but not much. She loves R. and R. loves her, and they were at our home, making it all more familiar than not for V. We made sure that we left the house when V. was distracted and, honestly, she didn't seem to know we were missing. They had a blast, R. said when we returned, singing and dancing and playing with toys.

Because we suspected V. would be comfortable and at-ease, we were able to enjoy our date without worry. And we weren't gone long this first time. Just an hour. Just right. Of course, we've known all along that parents need to nurture themselves individually and nurture their partnership jointly in order to fully nurture their children, but knowing and putting into practice are such different things, aren't they?

But yesterday we did it. We took a bit of time for ourselves and gave V. a new growth opportunity. I'd say we all enjoyed it immensely and are better off for it, too. We're all taking our baby steps now.

Monday, November 16, 2009

New Moon



Today is the new moon, meaning that it begins to wax (or grow larger again) after its time of waning (diminishing) from fullness. The three days before and three days after this time also share the energy of this moon. In some traditions, such as Wicca or herbal craft, this moon is called the dark moon. In those systems, the energy supported at this time is that of banishing, releasing. One might set an intention that says "I release anger and ill will," and since "nature abhors a vacuum," any time we release something, we consciously choose what will take its place: "I cultivate kindness, patience, and good will." In other traditions, such as Tantra, this new moon is a time to begin, to create, to set in motion. This would be a time, then, to buy a house, start a business, or start a project. Thus, this would be a time of invoking, of drawing something closer: "I cultivate kindness, patience, and good will."

Interestingly, then, each tradition supports the same goals; the difference is mainly one of perspective. I'm not talking about a "glass half full/glass half empty" view because that suggests judgment; one is optimistic, one pessimistic. Instead, the difference is one of seeing the dark at this time or seeing the light. And, again, I'm not talking about this in a way that sees darkness as negative but rather as something that simply and literally is; we need both dark and light, both day and night.

Yet today I'm calling this the new moon, and I'm endeavoring (always) to cultivate kindness, patience, and good will. I can choose to begin something today, hoping to bring it to fruition at the full moon (more on that in a couple of weeks). My yoga practice today will be a lunar practice, which I just learned about in my weekend workshop at Bliss Yoga Shala: slower, quieter, with less sweat, longer holds. Regardless of what one calls it, this is a contemplative time, a time to still the body in order to still the mind, to focus on meditation.

So, what might you start today? And how will you move toward stillness?

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Weekending

Mainly an announcement today: I've decided to reserve weekends for weekending, so my posts will be Monday through Friday from now on. Today, since I have a yoga workshop this afternoon, I didn't need to be out of the house at 7:30 and will actually be able to eat breakfast with my family...hooray! And that means time for pancakes...yum!

Happy weekending to you!

Friday, November 13, 2009

Home


Have you ever visited a place and felt immediately settled? Like you'd finally come home after a long trip? Your breathing is easy, your mind care-free. Perhaps like many, I often feel this sense of ease when I'm on vacation, when I'm away from home. I don't think this has much to do with the fact that we have an infant and so home-life right now is as energetic and busy as away from home. In fact, I think I've always felt this way. I remember as a child I would always want to be away, visiting somewhere new, traveling, even just driving around with my mother.

Some of my favorite memories are of trips and drives I would take with my mother. In the autumn, we would take color tours, driving for the pleasure of the changing autumn leaves, to enjoy the fall color. Sometimes we would find a place to stop and poke around, and I associate these drives with hot apple cider and cinnamon doughnuts.

Now that I live in Florida, the idea of a color tour is a joyful reminiscence. But the notion of finding peace and a chance to settle my mind while in motion is still with me. This returns me to the idea from an earlier post of "being" instead of doing. One of the greatest pleasures of traveling is that we are removed from the demands of daily life; there is not much we have to do and so we are entitled to be. The challenge, then, is to find this sense of breathability and ease when we are amidst the clutter of daily life, the messy desk, the full sink.

When we can access the sense of lightness and ease that pure being engenders no matter where we are, we are truly at home in ourselves.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Illusions and Enlightenment


There is a line in one of my favorite movies (Smoke Signals) where Thomas Builds-the-Fire says, "We were all traveling heavy with illusions." This line comes to my mind sometimes and, when it does, I immediately feel my perspective change; I feel more grounded. How often do our lives consist of illusions, of projections? When we are feeling sad or sensitive, everything we hear might seems to be sent with thorns. When we are angry and defensive, we might think people are being aggressive toward us. When we are newly in love, we imagine that our beloved is the source of our happiness. The illusion is that someone else is doing something to us. Often, though, what we are receiving from the world is actually coming from us. Acknowledging this can change our perspective, our emotional response, and our circumstances. After the illusion is broken, what remains? One of my mentors used to say, "After disillusionment comes enlightenment," and it is this light of understanding and insight that allows us to see the world and our place within it anew.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Just Be


"Sunflowers don't catch trains."

This line, from an Alice Walker poem, always tickles me. It's such a sweet and playful reminder of the beauty that can be found in stillness and in being one's natural self. Often, our greatest peace is found when we can tap into being instead of doing, doing, doing. As we near the holidays, this reminder is especially important and might be one of the best gifts we can give ourselves.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

For Today, A Poem


The Summer Day by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean--

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

With your one wild and precious life?