.....an ode to change

Dear Change,

Why, oh why do I resist you……You have been the sole unchanging partner in my walk through life, yet I forget. Your turns often catch me unguarded and your closeness at times can smother.  But without you there would be no me. So I humbly offer these words. 

Each day you pay your visits in unexpected ways.  My Friday night yoga class evolves from 1 ½ hours, to 1 ¼ hours, to 1 hour.  Sigh.  The new teachers come and as I become attached, they move on.  I head out after class for dinner to discover they no longer serve my favorite olives.  Yes….there you are one step ahead. Alright, I will have the blue cheese. Weeks later that too is gone. 

At other times I scream your name and insist on your immediate attention. Fix my neck. Change the light to green.  Take this grief from me now. But you don’t work that way. You have your own rhythm. A current.  I can hear it when I get quiet. The hum of the Universe. 

As a women you and I are on intimate terms.  You carried me as a young girl over the bridge from maiden to mother…..and now you are hard at work transforming me from mother to crone.  The blood comes and the blood goes.  I wake in the middle of night to feel you there.  The tossing and turning, dreams, heat.  I resist.  Not me.  No, I won’t age. But you know better. ‘Let go’ you whisper. Change. 

I see you in action as I watch my friends drop their youngest off to college. Marriages beginning and others ending. The yellowing of the corn stalks, the freshly spun spider webs that catch me on my morning run and even in the new Pokemon game (which I still don’t understand). None good or bad.  You, change, simply are. 

When I struggle against, testing like a toddler, you won’t push back. No that is not your style. With my out of tune note you let me sing loudly until I can hear myself so I can tune in.  When in harmony we make beautiful music together. Taking that current of change and shaping it into something new. Something brilliant.

Suddenly I remember how much I love you.  For without change, the cucumber seeds I so lovingly set in the soil would not sprout and produce such an abundance of cucumbers that I give them as gifts.  And unless I stood back to let my boys spread their wings and fly away, I would never feel the joy of holding a newborn grandson.  And winter…..would never become spring.

Ahhhhhh……..change.  Because of you every day is amazingly different. Each moment unique. Every breath precious. I am thankful to you change…..when I remember.

“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”

                ~A Proverb

A new me every day,
SARAH

....a storm

Yogis,

I have always loved weather.  Heat, wind, snowstorms, lightening and heavy rain. I love them all. They don’t scare me.  To the contrary they make me feel alive and remind me that for all the planning and organizing I do, there are much greater forces at work around me.  Thank goodness. 

There is nothing like a good thunderstorm to awaken the senses. The other evening I could hear one off in the distance so I headed out to snuggle into the rocker on the front porch. Every so slowly it approached with its flashes of light and distant rumble. The anticipation of it like climbing that first big hill on a roller coaster.  The temperature drops.  Leaves begin to sway and fat rain drops fall from the sky.  The smell of rain. Then in an instant the wind roars in like a freight train swaying even the largest oaks and with it come the sheets of rain, now blowing sideways. 

I move from the chair to place my back against the house wall to get out of the rains path as I don’t want to go in quite yet.  A lightening crack makes the hair on my arms stand tall and then finally…….the deep boom that shakes the earth.  The reverberation entering through my feet and rising until it reaches my heart. Cracking it open. I close my eyes to feel. The storms power now within me. Waiting, hoping it will happen again. 

The torrential rain that follows provides a sense of heaviness.  Like the plants in the yard, I feel the rains incredible strength pushing me firmly into the ground.  Feeling my weight and watching. 

And then it moves on.  Leaving a sudden sense of calm and stillness behind in its wake.  For a moment the world is quiet.  One by one the birds begin to chirp once again .  Animals come out of hiding.  The cicadas resume their song.  A plane flies overhead and I go back to my evening.  She came and she went.  Blowing through with might. Asking us all to pause and notice. For no matter how separate we are, when the storm rolls through we experience it as one.

Weather, and storms in particular, are a great reminder that I am not in charge. That I am safe.  That it's ok let go of the handlebars at times and ride with my hands in the air.  Maybe it’s the very fact that I can’t be in charge that releases me to feel free to be swept into her fierceness and enjoy this ride of life. 

And the icing on the cake is when the sun paints a rainbow in the storms honor………

She’s a thunderstorm wrapped in beautiful flesh, looking to be felt and understood in a world that loves sunny days.

                ~JM Storm

Boom,
SARAH

.......an onion

Yogis,

I love onions!  Most dishes done on my stovetop have their beginning with me sautéing the onions.  My summer salad combinations made with cucumbers from my garden, tomatoes, beans, peppers and feta almost always include some finely sliced vidalias or red onions. Onions in soups and onions in sandwiches.  Therefore I slice and chop a lot of onions!

And the first thing you notice about an onion is how many layers it has……………………

Right now in class we are noticing and awakening the energy of our third eye center.  Ajna chakra.  Our ability to ‘see’ without the use of the physical eyes.  Shining the light within and seeing truth.  Shining the light outward to connect with all that is.  So I have chosen to lead Yin type classes as an aide.  The more widely known yoga styles are Yan – active movement with breath, opening, lengthening and strengthening our muscles.  Building internal heat to create change.  Yin yoga, on the other hand, is receptive.  Coming into a position and letting go to stay there for several minutes.  Letting go of the muscles to tend to the layers beneath – the ligaments, fascia and tendons.  Letting go of trying.  Opening new channels for energy to flow. 

Going in.  Because we, like the onion, have many layers.  Physical layers of course, but more importantly emotional and mental layers.  All that is held within.

As I have been doing the Yin practice myself I am recognizing some of the layers that have to be attended to before the journey deeper can even begin. Like the skin. The skin is that outer layer that everyone sees and believes is you!  What you wear, how you move, what you say.  But in truth that is simply the role you have chosen to play in this theater we call life. And it is easy to toughen that skin up where no one…. not even you…..can glimpse what lies beneath.  Have you ever cut into a perfect looking onion, only to find the inside not so perfect?  So as I sink into a pose and begin to settle I release ‘Sarah’ to instead feel my body and the mat beneath it.  Feeling my humanness.  Ever so gently peeling back the skin. 

The next layer is my thoughts. Oh boy are they racing.  “I like this pose…..I hate this pose….I don’t think I am doing this right…….my hip is uncomfortable……I should move……..has it only been one minute…..my nose itches……I’m thirsty…….what should I make for dinner tonight……I’m not getting a workout………when is this practice going to be over.”   This thick layer also contains the ‘what others think of me’ which is omnipresent.  That is a tough one to relax.  I stay.  Oh, there is my breath.  That steady teacher that guides the way in whenever, wherever I choose to watch. Whenever I am willing to surrender the reins to a force larger than me. 

As I begin to soften my jaw and let the muscles take a much needed break there is an unmistakable melting feeling.  A traveling inward. The thoughts, while still there, seem further away.  Softer.  With a little distance I can now see them and realize they aren’t me.  I haven’t stopped my thoughts I have moved beyond them so they are now a layer above me. 

And so it goes.  Layer by layer.  Each one challenging in its own way.  Some shouting for us to put back on that skin so we don’t have to feel.  Coming to the layer we all have that is tinged with sadness.  Not an easy one to sit with.  But sit we must.  The layers of self-worth, longing and trust.  Staying in each one even with the discomfort…. and the uncomfortable hip. Letting them be what they are.  Each layer drawing us closer to the center. Our core. Whole, safe, fulfilled and at absolute peace. The inner stillness.  Me. 

And it’s Me that wants to meet You.

Let’s shed our skin sometime,
SARAH

......going

Yogis,

I love August!  Most Washingtonians flee this town in August, but I always want to be right here.  Everything slows way……down. Since everyone else is gone there is less traffic, fewer emails and plenty of room at the bar.  The vibration of human busyness is replaced by one of my favorite sounds….the drone of the August insects. 

It is a virtual symphony.  The bass notes underplaying the ones who hold the consistent beat, overlaid by the ones with the sporadic staccato notes.  When you get still and listen, just like a song, there are points where they build into a crescendo, reaching the peak and then slowly settling back into a steady rhythm.   I wake to them, spend time in my garden with them, work with my windows open to hear their song, and fall asleep to their tune.  But you can not only hear their voices, you can feel them.  Their frequency so in tune with the August heat and the harvest of the garden.  I am drawn to them.  I sit still and soak it all in…..mixing their vibration with mine. 

I am drawn to them……..

What does that mean to be ‘drawn’ to something?  It certainly isn’t something that comes from the mind.  Not something that is thought out. To me it feels like the energy of a magnet. Something or someone out there is vibrating at a frequency that either I want to feel or that I resonate with. The sensation of wanting to lean in. 

This week a received a ‘Note From The Universe’ in my inbox that said:

When you are drawn to something……Go!  That is me (the universe) speaking to you.

Go!  So I went. 

For this past year I have been hearing stories from all of my ‘river rat’ friends about the sheer joy they feel when they are on the water. Although I go to the river often, sitting on its banks and usually receiving the gift of incredible insights, I don’t leave the shore. I am a fish when it comes to a swimming pool, but more of a cat when it involves water with current or waves.  A fear I developed quite young after being knocked down by waves on several occasions. That feeling of being pushed down against my will causes me to panic that in one more second I am going to have to inhale the water. So I have avoided water sports.

The email was sitting there staring me in the face.  Yes, I am drawn to the water.  But ‘going’ often means having to step out of the comfort box, or doing something that is not ‘expected’ from you. Maybe it isn’t logical or doesn’t fit in with where you thought your life was heading.  But the feeling of being drawn is unmistakable.  And I did just write that it was time to face this one fear in particular.  So without any additional thought I found a stand up paddle board class on the river and went. Go!

And there I was.  On my knees on the board in the middle of the river and I stood up.  My knees shaking.  My breath shallow. But I was up.  An hour later I was finding my rhythm and could actually look around and see what I had been hearing so much about.  The osprey landed near us.  Kayakers and rafters yelled their hellos.  It was awesome. Another whole world with its own vibration.  

Now back at home I am once again surrounded by the August song.  A wee bit more open now to see what else I am drawn to.  What other frequencies are singing my song? Kayaking perhaps?

Going,

SARAH