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.