Solstice

Last night we embarked up Pyramid Mountain on a group hike in celebration of the winter solstice, led by our friend, Douglas Vorolieff. As we witnessed the sun setting while the moon was rising, my friend Irene remarked that she became very aware of walking on Earth, this massive planet. It was a shared moment of wonder, a return to innocence.

As we walked down the mountain in the moonlight, I noticed the group got very quiet. It was a sacred stillness that I have experienced after some yoga classes. Partially stemming from fatigue, there is also a sense of connection to something greater.

As I journey into this new season, my intention is to remain connected to that which is greater than me as I let go of lesser attachments. When I am aligned with that, I experience more ease and joy. Arguments resolve, wounds heal, new friendships and other miracles become commonplace.

There are many ways to get into this space: nature, yoga, prayer, meditation, music, art and zillions more. Sometimes it's challenging to find time. I am blessed that my schedule is usually flexible, though there are times when it gets strained. At those times, a deep breath and a quick prayer suffice.

My gift to you this season is my discovery of the Map of Consciousness, created by Dr. David Hawkins. Using applied kinesiology, specific states of consciousness were identified and measured. The lowest level of shame logs at 20 and the highest level of enlightenment logs at 1000. Courage logs at 200, which begins the higher levels of positivity and truth. All we need is courage to expand into higher levels of consciousness! I enthusiastically encourage you to look deeper into Dr. Hawkins writings and lectures.

However you choose to go into this new season, I wish you peace.

The light in you is seen and honored by the light in me.

Namaste.

The Music Within

Yesterday, we attended my dad's last performance singing in the barbershop group, Morris Music Men. It was the first time my parents, all the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were together in many years. The performance was beautiful and fun. The kids got excited to hear songs they knew, like "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and "Day-O." Between songs, the MC shared entertaining stories peppered with jokes. Some songs stirred deeper emotions and memories. There were moments that I was overwhelmed with a certain joy; watching my dad and his friends on stage and sharing this experience with the people I love. I literally felt my heart expand. It even hurt a little.

My family has its complex histories as a whole as well as within individual relationships, as I have learned most families do. I'm really proud that we all agreed to come together to support my dad. It's not easy to let go of the words and actions past. It's not easy to resist falling back into those patterns that aren't loving or honorable.

I brought my experience from yesterday into my yoga practice this morning. I didn't know how it would unfold, so I started with my sister's mantra, "it is what it is." I allowed my breath to guide the movement. I dared to breathe deeper, to listen, to feel. My most tangible, physical body assured me I am safe. My breath opened more space within me. My mind focused on observing what was present, what was shifting. Divine wisdom revealed my true power. As I continued to explore this revelation, I slowly surrendered in bliss.

Our words and actions stem from what's happening within us; our thoughts, feelings and beliefs. If those are negative, so will our words and actions. Our true power is we can change our thoughts, which change our feelings. When we change to more positive thoughts, and feel positive, our words and actions become more positive. When the feedback we receive becomes more positive, then our beliefs can change. This true power that we have within us affects everyone and everything around us. It is our choice how we influence our environment.

Hugging my dad goodbye, I thanked him for bringing us all together again. The show was a beautiful gift to us, bringing us together in music and laughter. It was a really good performance. He said they were just having fun up there. When you're having fun, it's easy.

Now I See

Recently, I was invited by our lovely friends, Martin and Nancy Nusbaum, to visit The See Eye, a  philanthropic organization whose mission is to enhance the independence, dignity, and self-confidence of blind people through the use of Seeing Eye^®dogs. On a Saturday morning, I joined a tour of the Seeing Eye, led by Martin. I gained a greater understanding of what it is like to maneuver through life with blindness,and the gift of independence the Seeing Eye dogs offer.


The Seeing Eye's comprehensive program breeds and raises puppies to become Seeing Eye dogs (or obtains them occasionally by purchase or exchange); trains Seeing Eye dogs to guide blind people; instructs blind people in the proper use, handling, and care of the dogs; conducts and supports research on canine health and development.

Martin and one of the graduates of the program shared their experiences and answered our questions with candor and passion. The basis of the training is love. When a puppy is raised in a private home through the program, they are taught simple commands, learn social behavior, and experience love with an abundance of affection. When the dog is ready for training back at the Seeing Eye, the focus of the work is cultivated, and they are rewarded with affection. When the owners meet their dogs and learn to navigate together, the relationship develops with love.
I experienced this love through my relatively short visit. The puppy with Martin was not shy in sharing his affection with me and the other visitors. It creates a very warm and relaxed atmosphere. My protective walls came down and my heart beamed open. It is a common occurrence at the Seeing Eye, people leave transformed by their interactions with the dogs. Even if they are working, their very presence is calming.

A few days later, Pete and I participated in a yoga practice guided by Nancy at the Seeing Eye. The mediation and yoga theme was peace. In this sacred space of love and trust, peace flowed with ease. 

Nancy teaches teaches Wednesday evenings at 6:30pm at Purple Om.
If you are interested in donating, every dollar of your gift goes to support The Seeing Eye’s programs. All gifts to The Seeing Eye are tax deductible.

A Day at the Beach

A day at the beach brings days past back to life. The tastes of the salty water, the grit of the sand, the relentless sun blazing on the skin feels the same.

We bring our grandchildren to the beach, who play in the sand and jump the waves just as our daughter did. Years play back before my eyes. The hand that reaches out for me to hold feels the same.

And yet, this moment of stillness also passes. Cups get knocked over, sand gets everywhere, and we brought so much stuff we can't find what we need. All these little annoyances are a blessing. Little pinches of reality. Life is teaching me to cherish them all.

Morning Ritual

Like many people, I was conditioned to earn approval. Pass the test, meet the deadline, clean up, pay money, etc. If I didn't meet expectations, the consequences ranged from disappointment to punishment. Society's dangling carrot of approval incrementally moving further beyond my reach. I teetered between trying harder and giving up.

What was missing was the connection to me. That concept wasn’t encouraged or even taught. All that external focus to gain approval and stay out of trouble overrode any internal focus. If it can’t be measured or graded, what is the value? Depleted from running on that hamster wheel to nowhere, I had no choice but to get off the carousel and figure out a new way.

I started with my physical body, which was overweight and addicted to cigarettes. I started walking, biking, practicing yoga and fun workout videos. I noticed when I felt hungry and how I felt after I ate. I used an online food and exercise tracker. I felt stronger, and my body moved easier. I also felt more confident. Some people noticed the changes and offered compliments.  Although touching, I was surprised how little I needed it. I have created a strong connection to my body that didn’t require outside validation.

However, I still struggled with people-pleasing and social anxiety. This connection goes deeper, right to the heart. I was completely lost here, out of touch with who I was and what mattered to me. I sought desperately for guidance, never satisfied. I was back on the carousel.

I have practiced meditation for a long time, having powerful and insightful experiences in group meditations. I needed more, and I couldn’t just rely on the group. As I commit to a personal meditation practice, my focus inward grows stronger. I listen to my heart. It lets me know if I am moving in the right direction, or I need to change course. As I nurture this loving relationship with myself, I find that this connection is a gateway to the divine nature that I have known as God. God had always been too big a concept for me to understand. Now I experience the awe and joy of connection beyond this tangible existence.

Like any relationship, this needs work to keep it alive and vital. It’s too easy to fall back into despair and apathy. This world challenges me over and over to give up; it’s too hard and nobody cares. In order to keep myself connected and on my path, I need to start each day checking-in and reaffirming my commitment to myself. This morning ritual has evolved over the years, and it keeps changing. The following are the basic practices that work for me:

1.       Exercise- even 10 minutes of sun salutations awakens the body and brings a sense of accomplishment. I exercise throughout the day, so I don’t need to get it all in before breakfast.

2.       Meditate- if the weather is agreeable, I'll do walking meditations and combine these first 2 practices. I also listened to guided meditations, chanting, or just focus on my breath.

3.       Journal- stream of conscious writing is very effective for connecting within.

4.       Inspirational reading or media- if not in the morning ritual then at some time during the day. Sometimes it resonates, sometimes it doesn’t. It never hurts.

5.       Prayer/ intention- whatever is stuck in my heart, this releases it out to the universe, to work out however it’s supposed to work out.

There are many ways to practice connecting to our authentic self. Committing to a morning ritual sets the tone that you desire for the day. This summer, I am offering a 7am yoga class Monday through Friday at Be Well. I will be sharing and exploring tools that you may incorporate with your own morning rituals. If that not available to you, smiling when you first wake up each day is a great practice! I highly recommend it.

Witness Consciousness

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” 
― Rumi

As I sat sick in my bed, too congested to breathe, I longed to be liberated from my own body. The same body that gave birth, survived car accidents, loved and hugged. I was desperate for sleep that my body would not allow. And so I noticed what was in that moment. I felt my muscles ache, the rawness in my throat and sinuses. I noticed the moving shadows on the wall as cars passed, the tissues piled on the nightstand and my book next to my pillows. Instead of reading to distraction, I continued observing myself in this space, until finally sleep succeeded. 

Physical wounds are the most obvious obstacles to peace of mind. The wounds of the heart are not as tangible, yet can be an even greater disturbance on inner peace. My good friend Steven recently led a discussion on relationships, sharing "If one of our relationships is not at peace, are we? Hell no!"

I'm somewhat experienced at analyzing relationships. Trying to understand personal discord often leads to mental anguish. I can go down that rabbit hole of doubting self-worth quite easily. The mental wounds are tricky mine fields, accumulated over time from major and minor traumas. Not easy to find peace there.

Between physical, emotional and mental wounds that I carry, where is it possible to find peace? I've spent enough energy in social and family dramas, trying to numb myself with food, cigarettes and mindless TV. I tried going to church and pray, but I was so caught up in complaining about this wounded life, I never shut up and listened.

Until I did.

It was in a yoga class, when the teacher encouraged us to feel what was happening as we moved and as we held a pose. That practice re-trained my mind to observe, to take a backseat to the experience. I learned not to judge what was happening, just to allow it to happen. Over time, this released pent-up emotions, thoughts and beliefs that no longer worked for me. Many were no longer valid or even true. It is painful to face these head-on; even more painful to let them go. They're like little deaths of what always defined me, what I had always known.

What was left was a great emptiness, a freedom of movement. I didn't need to fill it right away, new opportunities and fresh experiences came naturally in good time. With my yoga practice, I experience this phenomenon in varying degrees over and over. In time, I become clearer as I just observe what is present, and allow it to pass through me. 

It is that simple, but it is not easy. Maybe it gets easier in time. I'll let you know. What I do know is the fruit of my practice, finding that sweet nectar of being. Without effort or distraction, it has always been.

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

Celebration

My dad recently celebrated his 85th birthday. His one wish was to gather family and friends together in celebration. His mom gave lavish parties every 5 years to celebrate her milestone birthdays. I remember her 85th and her 90th. She passed 2 months afterwards.

My dad isn't a lavish person, but he did want a party. My sister created invitations with pictures of him as a small child and as a young adult. My brother came from California. My dad ordered the catering and I ordered the cake. The day before the party, my dad and I shopped for party supplies, drinks, etc. I planned on setting up at the Irish-American club at least 2 hours before it started.

Things didn't go as planned. We were running late, the cake had the wrong age written, and the store was crowded. My control-freak nature was beyond frustrated.

As I stood on line for the cashier, waiting for the person in front of me, I was very aware that there was nothing I could do. I stood and looked at my surroundings. I felt my body buzzing and my heart beating. I focused on what was happening, like a scientist. It was interesting. I remembered other times I have felt this way, and they weren't always bad. I remember feeling this way when I went to my first concert, or going on a first date. I imagined my dad was feeling this way while he was waiting for me in the car.

We got to the club to set up while my husband and brother picked up the catering. My sister soon came and jumped right in setting up the coffee station. When the guys came back with the food, they also helped setting up.

As the guests began arriving, the women who belong to the club took over the kitchen. Gratefully, I began to relax. I was happy to see some people I grew up with. My cousin, whom I haven't seen in 5 years, sat with us and led our very amusing conversations. My grandchildren and nephew were happily playing outside with my sister's dog. My dad and his barbershop friends got into a circle and sang a few times throughout the party. He ended up with 3 birthday cakes! My 7-year old granddaughter put candles on all of them, which was fine since the kids also helped blow them out.

There are times when I get so focused on how I think things should be done, I tune out the clamorous music of life. Sometimes that is necessary. Sometimes I just need to let go of my itinerary and participate harmoniously in the present moment. At 85 years old, my dad still had more to teach me.

Practice

Throughout my teacher training, both with Kripalu and Yoga Impact, maintaining our personal practice is required. It made sense that I keep up so I can physically demonstrate the poses that I teach. What I have discovered through my practice is much more profound.

There are times when I do sun salutations first thing in the morning just to get them over with. A check on my to-do list. Sometimes the whiny child in me begins to surface "I don't wanna practice." I breathe my arms up, and move through the sequence with my breath. I notice what is tight, what needs to be opened. I breathe and move gently in these spaces. When my practice is complete, I sit in meditation.

I have also come to the mat with my hands over my heart, with no thought of what will happen next. I practice the poses that are most challenging for me. I practice gentle watery movements to free any stiffness or tension. I memorize sequences and how they feel in my body. Whatever form my practice takes that day, it is always a practice of mindfulness.

I study teachings of yoga, science, philosophy and religion with fascination. I can read a passage, then months later, it's like I've never read it before. I find gold everywhere I look, and then I turn around and find it again.

When I practice yoga, there is gold. My mind and body calm, and I am clearer in my thinking and activity. It clears the distractions, negativity and the untruths that I have learned to believe about myself. My yoga practice goes deeper because it's not being told to me, it's being experienced. When I press my palms together in front of my heart, I offer love to all the parts of who I am. Even the parts that are harder to accept. When I raise my arms overhead, joy is present. When I stand strong in a warrior pose, the shy wallflower within me is transformed.

In "Living Buddha, Living Christ" Thich Nhat Hanh explores the teachings and practices of two people who lived on the earth thousands of years ago. Though culturally expressed differently, each practice brought their followers to that place of divine peace; whether it be called Nirvana or Kingdom of God. He further emphasizes that practice is necessary even when that peace has been reached. If the practice is discarded, all that was discovered becomes an array of concepts and ideas. What is touched upon in our practice is alive, it is the essence of our being that gets lost in our busy-ness.

I discovered the song "I Am What I Am" sung by Aykanna. The lyrics are simple and repetitive. "I am what I am. And that's alright." For reasons beyond my understanding, I was drawn to share this song with my very musical granddaughter.

The next day, I went to my beloved teacher's yoga class. She talked about the yoga practice burning away all the stuff that doesn't belong to you to get you back to who you truly are, which is pure bliss. You are already fine just as you are, yoga is just a way to see that.

I closed my eyes in reverence to the connection I just experienced. I felt tears fall as my practice had already begun.

Community

This weekend I attended my first drum circle. I went with no expectation. We were loaned a djembe drum, an African instrument that is played by hand. Mark guided us in some basic techniques, and then we began.

At first, I was just trying to find my coordination. Eventually, I let go of trying to copy or keep up, and it just flowed. My sound was mixing with sounds of all the drums in the room. I watched the room with more softness. It was more than sound to the ear; it was vibration throughout the body. At one point, I stopped drumming and hovered my hands over the skin, physically feeling it vibrate from all the other drums in the room. I was in joyous awe.

Then my friend got up and danced in the middle of the circle. The energy in the room rose even higher and I felt my heart break open. I wanted to join her, but I felt this was her moment. This circle was a benefit for her daughter. I wanted to honor this space, so I drummed with even more enthusiasm.

During our water break, she told me I should join her. I shrugged that I was too shy. She assured me that once you’re up there you just let go of everything. Next round of drumming, I see her saunter her way over to me. She gives me a nod, and I follow. Just like the drumming, I tried moving with some sort of rhythm and style, and then I was just moving. I was so lost in the moment that she tapped my arm to check in on me. I found myself in giddy bliss.

As we were cleaning up, my husband and I were talking with some of the other participants, sharing our experiences. It was such a beautiful space, no one wanted to break it.

Its times like this that reminds me how vital and life affirming a community can be. I haven’t felt a part of a community for most of my adulthood. The church I grew up in no longer resonated with me, my family and friends had scattered, and the only group I had were my co-workers. Thankfully, I was blessed with many years sharing office spaces with people who were caring and supportive. Now I am so grateful to be a part of very encouraging communities of yoga, spiritual development, biking and books.

I was talking with my dad about the drum circle and how good it felt to be with these friends. He said that’s why his groups are so important to him; volunteering at a senior center, barbershop singing, and other religious and cultural groups. As his age gradually limits him, his connections to these groups grow even more precious. It heartens me when he reports how his friends help him out by giving him rides to the meetings and other events.

The drum circle was a continuation of the Purple Om fundraiser for Amber in February. Donations classes at Be Well are the 3rd Friday of the month at 6pm and are continuing to benefit Amber in April and May. 

No judgement needed

I've discussed the first yama of ahimsa, non-violence, many times. Compassion and non-judgement is the foundation of my practice. It is what remind my students during yoga class. It is what I remind myself when I fall out of a balancing pose.

These reminders are great when offering loving-kindness to ourselves when feeling challenged or uncomfortable, but what about when we find ourselves in situations that just doesn't feel healthy.

I ask myself, and my students, not to see things as good or bad, right or wrong. Instead, I ask how does this feel? Does it feel supportive or helpful, or is it causing pain and possible damage?

In my yoga therapy training with Nancy Candea, we practiced a series of poses while standing on one leg. Believing that I was obligated to keep up with the class, I pushed myself, holding my balance the best I could. Standing on my left leg, a shooting pain traveled from the inside of the fallen arch in my foot through the back of my knee. I kept going. Afterward, Nancy caught me massaging the area and asked me what happened. When I told her, she asked me, "is this pose useful for you?"

I know the eka pada standing poses strengthen the supporting leg, including the muscles that have grown weak from the arches in my foot not lifting. What is not useful for me is standing unsupported for a prolonged period. Being able to stand on one leg will not make me a better yoga teacher or a better person. Because it's easy for the person next to me doesn't mean it needs to be easy for me.

I decided that I can mindfully explore these poses, notice how I feel in the moment, and honor the messages that my body is giving me. I can use a chair or a wall to alleviate the body weight transitioning to the standing leg. I can shorten the time I hold my body in this position. In time, I may progress in my practice, but more importantly I may find more ease in my posture and functioning through normal activities. If it doesn't, then I may explore other options.

I am so grateful for the question, "is this useful for you?" It has freed me into making a choice of what is best for me. This is a choice I can make in every moment. Instead of making a judgement based on old ideas and beliefs that are no longer appropriate, I can use the intelligence of my mind and body to discern what is happening. From this discernment, I can better decide my next action, without the emotional charge of judgement.

This takes much practice. Believe me, I'm still practicing. I will always need to practice. Most of the time, I catch myself reacting from my longstanding patterns instead of responding intelligently. I am catching myself a bit quicker, so that may be a sign of progress.

Even letting go of that judgement is a practice!

Ishvara Pranidhana

Stopped at a red light, I watched a flock of birds moving effortlessly in unison just yards in front of me. They rose together and swirled around a tree before diving gracefully toward the earth. I called to my grandson sitting in the back, “did you that? Wasn’t that amazing?”

“What? All the birds just followed the leader.” He was not impressed.

This exchange stuck with me for days. I was inspired to research it further.

The phenomenon of swarming or flocking is not unique to birds, but fish, insects and even animals. There are scientific and mathematical studies to determine the factors that create swarming behavior. The reasons vary among the species from migration for food to colonization. Swarming uses the simple model of moving in the same direction while remaining close and avoiding collision. 

I often think of this when watching bicyclists riding together. My husband is an avid cyclist, and I’m fascinated by his instinctual maneuvering on different terrains and traffic patterns. I need to practice and work on my skills just to go on an easy ride. More than my physical limitations, my mental blocks can paralyze me into a dead stop. How many times have I been told “just GO!”

Ishvara Pranidhana is the 5^th niyama, the observances included in Patanjali’s yoga sutras. Most commonly it is translated as “surrender.” Surrender to what? Across centuries of cultures and religions, there were many wars and lives destroyed over the differences in their answer. I’m not about to start another war.

I can only share my own experience.  I released the framework I was taught and began my own journey. In many ways, I have come back to a fuller understanding of those teachings. I am also free of holding onto a belief with stubborn defiance.

I found this freedom through my yoga practice. I explore my balance between will and surrender; holding strong and letting go. I slow down my movements, I slow down my breath, and then my thoughts naturally begin to slow. In time, I slow into stillness. It is in this space that I am free to fully surrender. I let GO.

When I am off my yoga mat, I continue the practice of surrender. In this sense, discernment is essential. I don’t advocate surrendering to whatever becomes present in life. Through yoga and meditation, I develop a stronger sense of self. I begin picking up subtle cues I used to miss. My distractions and ego-fueled fears burn away, and I gain clarity. I am closer to the true essence of life, of myself.

Now when I see birds swarm in their beautiful dance, I am even more enthralled.