.....I do

Yogis,

Trees have been crossing my path again lately.  Each time they have something to teach………

On my daily walks the trees have been yelling hello, grabbing my attention.  If I stop to notice I can sense each one’s personality.  The enormous sycamore by the side of the road that towers over me, it’s green leaves and white bark such a contrast to the blue summer sky.  He’s like a father standing his ground to protect. Strong and confident.  It’s clear that no one can mess with him.  Yet only a short distance further up the road are a row of smaller trees creating a shade canopy for me to walk through. Subtle and quieter, I feel I am entering a cocoon. Cooling me from the mid-day sun. Like those friends who you know are always there when you need them without any fuss.

These trees don’t ‘try’, they just do. 

This weekend at my cousin’s wedding the celebrant spoke of trees.  Comparing a good marriage to the trees ability to weather the storms.  Sturdy enough to stay when the going gets tough, yet flexible enough to bend with change.  As the best man stood to give his toast he too ironically talked of trees.  This time how what matters most are the roots.  The quiet part of each of us, unseen beneath the surface, yet when they are nurtured and healthy create our very foundation.  Feeding us to provide the nutrients that grow solid character.  A good person has good roots. 

But even with all of this I was second guessing what I should write about.  Until I opened Facebook last night to find the above picture posted by my friend, saying it made her think of me. Ok Universe.  I get it!

Suddenly I realized when the trees began this recent thread through my daily life.  It was on June 4^th.  The day I officiated my other cousin’s wedding in Cape May NJ at a historic beach hotel which opened its doors in 1876.  This seaside resort was where the bride had grown up vacationing and since she could walk she envisioned her wedding being there in the garden….. under the old weeping willow tree.

So there we were on an absolutely perfect afternoon under the willow’s protection and standing on her roots (being careful not to catch our heels as we moved). This willow had witnessed more unions then I can begin to imagine. She held the space beautifully. Trees don’t ‘try’, they just do……and that afternoon she was at her best.

The bride was radiant and the groom was glowing as I pronounced them husband and wife. As I looked beyond them out to the crowd it appeared that everyone was sparkling.  The willow, with her partner the sun, was pouring her grace on all of us.  And we all took a moment to receive it. 

I and the tree are the same.  We are made from the same elements, with just a slightly different recipe.  I still have much to learn from her. 

I do,
SARAH

....I forgot to relax

Yogis,

We each have a dharma.  A gift we have been given.  Something that we do uniquely from anyone else that when allowed to bloom and find its right course, is of service to others.  And the best side benefit is that when we are doing it, we feel alive and fulfilled.  Our purpose.  We all have one.

Some find theirs quite young.  Others as adults.  Sadly some never allow theirs to rise to the surface and take shape, even though they can feel it coursing through them.  Perhaps it doesn’t seem a worthy endeavor or there is fear of failing.  But there is no need to worry, for if we can hear its call and follow, it will never lead us astray. 

What is yours?  Mine is helping others to relax……………

I think people like to be around me because I relax them.  Probably unconsciously most of the time, but when we are together things loosen up.  Sitting down at the river, sharing around my fire pit, taking off our shoes, music, dancing.  Yoga.  Meditation. Lavender oil.  Less talking, less worry, less rushing and more being.  It was this gift that led me to teaching.  And when I use it, time stops.

Should we start dinner now?  No….let’s sit a while longer.   

Part of it is I don’t like the feeling of tension.  It is uncomfortable for me both in my mind and my body.  Like a clenched fist where nothing new has any chance of getting in.  Relaxed is defined as ‘free from tension and anxiety – at ease’.  It feels SOOOOOO much better.  More space.  Like finally taking the heels and tight dress off at the end of the evening (not that I ever wear heels or tight dresses any more….)  Able to breathe fully.

But somehow this past year while teaching others to relax, I forgot to.  I became somewhat hardened.  Pushing my body, pushing my schedule until this injury forced me to stop.  A wake up call.  One that isn’t going to completely leave me until it is sure I have returned to my natural state.  Until I am – at ease. 

Should I tell them what I really think?  Let it go.... let’s go watch the moon rise.

It’s interesting to me that this has also coincided with my own journey through menopause.   Shifting from mother to wise woman.  The waning moon.  Not accomplishing any less, but doing it all with less effort.  Allowing instead of pushing.  Knowing vs thinking.  In fact when we relax we accomplish more.  Much more.  Yet for some reason I continued steamrolling. 

I just forgot.  But I have noticed (earth)……I want to go back to my natural state (water)…….I will sit in my garden more and I can re-strengthen my belly while keeping it soft as I get back to my routine (fire) ..……and I have complete faith that I will be healed and feel free and open once again (air). 

Should I pull more weeds this afternoon?  No, the garden looks beautiful as it is.  I think I will lie back and enjoy it.

Barefoot,

SARAH

....becoming the unicorn

Dear Yogis,

A friend sent this to me.  It is perfect!

This is how I feel every single time I practice.   I…..and life become more colorful.   More alive.  More vivid.  As if the switch has been turned on.

it isn’t only the individual daily practices.  It’s also the cumulative effect that yoga has had on my life over these past 16 years. Life and I have become fuller.  Life before yoga…..life after yoga.

Nor is it solely the physical practice – the asanas.  It’s also the breathing, the meditation, the setting of intentions, the healthy diet, the slowing down and the inner focus.  Lifestyle before yoga……lifestyle after yoga. 

But the most important gift that yoga gives is the witnessing of this moment.  It teaches us complete presence.   This moment, when noticed (which doesn’t happen too often in our busy lives) in its entirety, without distraction is so perfect and so complete that we become the unicorn.  Life appears ‘other worldly’.  As if anything could happen…..and does.  Distracted before yoga………right here after yoga.

Let’s notice this moment.  Become still.  Completely still.  Hear the sounds around you - not only with your ears, but your whole body.  Relax.  Notice the colors and textures.  Feel the air brushing against your skin.   Now watch your next 3 breaths.  The universe moving through you.  Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh……………

This moment is unique.  This moment is different from any other you are ever going to have so you don’t want to miss it. 

My hair is now wild and I think I am ready for the sunglasses!

Psychedelic,
SARAH

.....lessons from the garden

Yogis,

It’s been an odd spring in the Washington area.  Up until last week it has been unusually cool and very wet.  Extremely wet.  A challenging spring for a gardener to know how to proceed. 

I waited.  I watched.  I considered putting my seeds in…….then paused and waited some more.  Until finally I began to worry that if I didn’t plant soon I would not have a chance to harvest this year before fall set in.  The rains had slowed and we were getting some days near 70.  So in went my string beans and celery along with a few seeds of flowers. And I sat back and waited some more.

And while I waited the rains returned.  Flooding rains.  Standing water filled my garden for days on end, only to be followed by drops in temperature and nights back in the 40s.  Oh well.  Guess I jumped the gun.  I checked the garden daily. 

One week, two weeks, three weeks.  Absolutely nothing.  Bare earth.  Sigh.

So on our first truly beautiful spring day as I weeded and planted some perennials I looked over and decided it was time to re-turn the earth and begin anew.  As I walked across the yard to get my shovel I suddenly heard my inner voice piping up. It was repeating my words to me. The ones I myself use when I teach about faith. 

“Faith means the unwavering trust that your visions will manifest. No doubt. Like when you plant a seed and know the plant will come.  You don’t go out to the garden each day and dig it up to see if it is growing.  You ‘know’ it will. Complete trust.”

And here I was about to dig up the seeds. But that doesn’t pertain to flooding rains that had almost certainly destroyed the seeds, I rationalized. Besides it had been more than 3 weeks. I set my shovel and new seeds on the ground and got down on my knees while I slipped on my gloves. Ready to dig.

And that’s when I saw it.  Wait! This slightest bulge in the ground.  So small and insignificant but my eyes locked on it.  I leaned my head down close to the ground so I could observe from the side.  There it was.  There was no mistaking the horseshoe shape of the stem pushing through so that its heavy head would be able to rise up.  I dropped my shovel, sat down and had a good laugh. 

Sarah……ye of little faith.  You won’t get very far with all of that doubt. 

I needed this reminder.  The garden is a microcosm of life.  It teaches me each and every day.  The bean package told me germination would take 7-14 days.  But the seed didn’t follow that agenda.  It grew when it was ready.  When the time was right.  My role was to care for the soil, water it and know it would come. See it.

Like the string bean, our life visions will manifest when the time is right.  When we visualize what it is that we want to create in our lives, our job is to see it with clarity…..often.  Prepare the soil, watch for the signs to follow, and continually take baby steps toward it, but letting go of all attachment to the ‘whens’ and the ‘hows’ along the way.  Not digging up, but instead letting go.  Complete and utter faith.  Doing your part, but trusting the Universe to do its own. 

And I am pretty darn sure I now am seeing a couple of celery sprouts!

Thank you garden,
SARAH