.....a plate of gratitude stuffing

Yogis,

Oh no, she isn’t going to talk about gratitude, is she???

The week of Thanksgiving we are bombarded with gratitude. Every commercial, store, movie and even the card you get from your insurance agent tell you how thankful they are to have you and remind you to think of all that you are grateful for. Like Thanksgiving dinner, it can make me to want to slip away and take a nap on the couch.   

And not unlike turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes, come Monday you aren’t sure you want any more for quite some time……

Gratitude, however, isn’t intended to be crammed into a one-week period. Each year we are pushed to ‘think’ of all the things we are grateful for when gratitude is an energy found in the body, not the mind. An electrical current sparked by things and people around us. The real joy is in learning to feel gratitude. Every day.

I notice how when we are asked what we are grateful for, the standard answers rush out. Family, health, financial security, spouse, etc. While those are all of course things we appreciate, gratitude goes so many levels deeper. Like a yoga practice which releases holding and tension in the body a gratitude practice is needed to keep the gratitude light in the center of the chest continually clear and bright.

One way to dip below the surface and begin to rev up the gratitude engine is with these prompts. I will start with my answers for today and then you fill in yours.

The three things I am grateful for which I can hear are……..  the rush of the river, the new song I downloaded, my grandson yelling ‘Nana!’ when I walk in the door
The three things I am grateful for which I can taste are…….  my 85% dark chocolate, honey, the fresh horseradish spread I made from my garden
The three things I am grateful for which I can see are….  the Japanese maple in peak color at the end of my street, the buck in my backyard, the moon
The three things I am grateful for which I can feel are…… Phoebe’s silky ears, sun on my face, my heavy blanket
The three things I am grateful for which I can smell are…..  lavender, my granddaughter’s new baby smell, coffee being brewed
The three colors I am grateful for are….. sage green, sky blue, red, yellow, violet, gold…….

Now imagine you are like a lighthouse with a light in the center of your chest and turn it on. Visualize all of the things in your lists out in front of you and shine the light on all of them. Send gratitude.

Then let those images fade but continue to shine your light on all that is around you. No longer grateful for something, but simply being gratitude. Beaming gratitude. And once we learn to turn on that light at will, it prefers to stay lit. We radiate gratitude. We become gratitude.

And with that shift comes much joy……..

'For one minute, walk outside. Stand there is silence. Look up at the sky and contemplate how amazing life is.'   ~Rhonda Byrne

A warm scarf around my neck,
SARAH

......the fertile pause

Yogis,

Everything in life follows a cycle. First there is the initial creation.  A birth. Something appears where ‘nothing’ stood before it. Followed by a time of rising, growth and expansion, until it reaches a peak, at which point it begins to descend.  To decay, contract and eventually exist no longer. Something becomes nothing. A death.

Our own life follows this pattern, and at this point I am pretty sure (but who knows) that I am on the other side of the peak. The houses we build, the outfits we buy, technology (think 8 track tape), and the seasons. All come from nothing and return there once again.

In the cycle of the seasons, winter is related to the element of earth. Earth signifies the beginning. That mysterious spark from which all things arise from nothing. Also the end, where everything once again returns.  Ashes….to ashes. 

At this time of year we are again on the other side of the peak. The summer high point is past and we are falling into winter. You can watch out the window how with each day the leaves, flowers and temperature drop. Downward pulling. Everything becoming darker, quieter and stiller. Until some small moment in time where we reach the end. The death.

And then there is a pause……..

And in the next moment the birth begins. The ground begins to awaken, something stirs within the seeds and the tree roots sense a shift. Nature knows. We won’t see evidence of it for quite some time, and we are not subtle enough to sense this pause. This gap. But it is there. 

This pause exists at that moment where low tide moves aside to give way to the incoming tide. When the dark of the new moon pauses before birthing a new waxing moon. Even in our thoughts. That thought we have been carrying like a backpack all day is suddenly there no longer and a brief silence exists before the next thought rushes in. From where does this new thought arise?

How can we, like the trees, tap into this magnificent space from which all new things come? The best path is through the breath.

The energy of an inhale rises from our pelvic floor, lifting and filling us until it reaches a peak. It then turns and begins its descent. With the exhale we become heavier, quieter, more relaxed and finally empty. Nothing. Then there is a pause. It’s always there. From this pause a new inhale, a new thought, a new way of being is born.

This pause goes by many names.  The void, the gap, the space between thoughts, the sea of pure potential.  Close your eyes and notice it. It contains nothing as it is the eternal silence. Yet it contains the potential for absolutely everything. It is the earth within us.

What is it that you want in your life? What do you want to create, feel, be, do? It all exists in this fertile soil of the gap between breaths. Be quiet and tap in.  

Befriend your breath.

‘Honor the space between no longer and not yet’
               ~Nancy Levin

Pausing,
SARAH

......my 'what I like about winter' list

Yogis,

There’s nothing like the clocks going back, finding myself standing in the dark at 5:00pm, to remind me that winter is once again on its way. Not here yet, but this weekends blast of cold air and the arrival of the first Christmas catalogs are like the call ahead you get for a dental appointment.  It is indeed coming….like it or not.

It is as this point that I like to pull out and dust off my ‘what I like about winter’ list!  Some of you may remember it. About four years ago I decided that after fifty years, it was finally time to stop hating winter. As a summer at heart, not only have I always hated winter, but even fall fell out of favor because I saw it as a one-way tunnel which led to you know where. I noticed that I was resisting about a third of the year, and therefore a third of my life, and that suddenly seemed ludicrous.  

Thus my list was born……..

Instead of constantly complaining about the things I didn’t like, I decided to shift my focus. To look for the good. Each year I add on to my list. Being attentive throughout the season to those moments that bring me joy. Pleasure. Simple things that when observed bring contentment.

My list, which may seem to be a small thing, has had a marked influence on my view of the season. I now can say that not only do I not dread winter….I actually like it! I glance through my list and look forward to experiencing all it contains. It reminds me of the good that lies in every day.

For me it was winter. For you perhaps it is summer you find uncomfortable.  Or maybe its Monday, or for that matter, Monday through Wednesday. Your son’s travel soccer season, a particular holiday, or the busy season at work. Whatever it is that you resist, within it lies some beauty. Start a list! Shift your attention and the rest will follow. 

I already know some of the things that will be additions this year! How I love going to the beach house in the winter and walking a deserted boardwalk. With no reservations needed at night and seats always available at the bar, we chat with the locals and get to know the owners and staff. And the way the snow geese migrate through in January, landing in such vast numbers on the ocean that they appear to be a reflection of a cloud overhead. 

I choose to like winter.

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer."
           - Albert Camus

Not wishing away this one sacred life,
SARAH

A Chance to support women and children.......

Join in on the yoga event Saturday 11/17, 4pm at Flow Yoga or make a donation!  

For the cost of one class you can change a life! 

https://yoga-gives-back.networkforgood.com/events/9316-the-kundalini-of-change-presented-by-ygb-ambassador-neva-ingalls

......the earth waves

Yogis,

The colors of autumn have taken their sweet time arriving. It’s now November and Thursday was the first day I could truly see the changing hue of the landscape. No longer a blanket of green, the view from my bedroom window now includes a splash of scarlet from the dogwood, varying shades of gold intermixed and the deep ruby red of the berries.

Walking along the canal there is one stretch where the entire canopy is now a warm yellow illuminated by the rays of the low-lying sun. Their color striking against the blue sky. My view of the water below and rock formations overhead framed by this palette was breathtaking. Wow. One of those moments where I am reminded of the unbelievably amazing planet that we all call home. 

Earth………

Yes, I have times where I take it all for granted. When I take my walks without noticing. Instead, buried in my thoughts, noticing what isn’t right. The temperature, my mood, the airplanes or the full schedule I have ahead. Until the earth waves, as it did this week.

Recently it has been the mushrooms winking at me and luring me close enough to see the unique beauty each has to offer. The variations in their coloring, size, shape and texture are beyond my imagination. I drop down to see them through the lens. In capturing them up close I am reminded how every pattern that we boldly believe we have dreamed up, already exists in nature. She is the ultimate artist.

The speckled pattern on the large toad I stumble upon while lifting sticks from the pile to build a fire. Each leaf that my foot lands on a piece of art. 

The sculpture created by unearthed tree roots intertwined in conversation with those around it. Lime green moss lighting up the gray rock on which it hangs. At times struck by the wonder around me. How could I possibly forget?

Yet I do. Often. I suppose that is human nature. To somehow get so wrapped up in the artificial surface stories and dramas we create that we stop seeing the source of life that nurtures us day after day without complaint.  

The energy of a mother, caring for us even when we aren’t noticing. How incredible it is that every day when I wake I get to play in her abundance.

A breeze picks up and suddenly it is raining leaves. My heart smiles. She is waving yet again…….

I wave back,
SARAH