.....a blank sheet

Yogis,
I have been thinking about my writing lately. I have sent these notes every Sunday, almost without fail, since I returned from herbal training in August 2012. What began as a way to share information, evolved into a ritual. A part of my week……every week.

People often ask me how I go about them. Do I look things up? Read other materials to get ideas? Have some sort of yoga resource that provides ideas? No, it’s nothing like that.

I typically sit down to write at some quiet time between Friday and Sunday morning depending on the weekend schedule. I open up a blank document in word with only a blurry idea that is stirring. It could have been from something I observed or an experience I had. Or like this week, as I was sorting through the 469 posts that I have done to date, a question bubbled up. Where did these come from?

Where do these come from?

I sit in front of a blank sheet with only the beginnings of an idea, lay my hands on the keyboard and pour words out. Thoughts turn into sentences which run down my arms, out through my fingers and onto the screen. A theme develops and carries me along for the ride. Usually within a half hour I have the page filled.

Where do these come from?

One moment there is nothing and then suddenly there is something. Inspiration. A creative life force pouring in. It flows through each of us….in different ways.

For you it may be an image in your mind that lays itself down magnificently with paint on a canvas. Your ability to look at a complex problem and know its solution instantly. Maybe your creations are done with spices in a saucepan, flowers in a garden, or by lifting a violin to your chin.

Where do these come from?

We are all creators and contain this mysterious ability to create something from nothing. A current that flows through, but where is the source?

When I try to physically feel how the idea gets pulled up, it reminds me of rummaging down around the bottom of an overfilled toy box for the one small toy your child is asking for. You sense it is there but mixed in with a crowd until you finally feel it, know, grab hold and lift it through all of the other thoughts packed around it.  

I am realizing that this blank sheet that sits before me is no different than the blank day that I awaken to each morning. Or for that matter, this blank life that I was born into. At times I look and marvel at what has poured through. I believe our only constraint is the mind, as the ocean of inspiration is boundless and will play through you….whenever you are its willing instrument.

Inspire in…..pause…..exhale it into being

As for me, I will continue to face blank pages, surrender and lean in to fill them. But perhaps I should start putting blank canvasses there too? Who knows what else is waiting to give voice……

Inspired,
SARAH

....be the tortoise

Yogis,
Remember the story of the tortoise and the hare? An Aesop Fable possibly first told as early as the 5^th century. A tale whose moral is that slow and steady wins the race.

It feels to me like life itself has become a race. Sending our children to school at three years old so they are prepared for kindergarten, to do well in grade school and be ready for the AP classes in high school, to get high scores on the SAT, so that they can get into the best colleges in order to graduate and get a high paying job, to buy a house and a car and work very hard for many years in order to save enough to be able to retire when they are old so they can finally…..relax. Exhausting to even type it!

Our world cheers for the hare. Kudos go to those who are quick, efficient, witty and successful. Those who push hard and struggle and then win! Not much press or attention given to the tortoises among us.

The only problem is the hare is moving through life so quickly, focused only on the finish line that the beauty of the individual moments is lost on him. The landscape a blur as he races through to reach the promised prize.

But what if the prize is already here? For each one of us. In this very moment. Waiting to be noticed. What would happen if we all slowed down?

I am a runner and used to do a lot of races. 5Ks, ten milers and even two marathons. Standing at the starting line waiting for the flag to wave, my vision was always of crossing the finish line. The strategy was to keep my head down, stay focused and keep moving. Even at water stations there was no stopping. You learned the art of slowing to a jog while drinking from a dixie cup without getting the water up your nose or choking. The goal was to finish. Quickly.

Now if we treat life as a race, we are rushing toward the finish. And we all know what awaits us at the finish. Yikes!

The tortoise on the other hand, notices. The vivid green of the moss climbing a tree’s base. The

indescribable beauty of the crisp winter western sky as the sun lowers toward the horizon. The rush of the wind outside the bedroom window signaling a shift in the weather. He is moving forward but his gaze is not toward the finish line, but instead taking in the life happening right beneath his feet.

If there is any time of year to practice being the tortoise, this is it. These next six weeks of winter for most of us have big slices of time with nothing on the calendar. The weather asking us to sit by the window and watch her wonder with a warm cup of tea in our hands. 

Stillness. Quiet. Rest. Powerful practices of the tortoise.

We will all inevitably reach the finish line of life. That is life’s one undeniable truth. Whether we choose to live a race like the hare, or a journey like the tortoise is up to each of us. I choose to be the tortoise.

Life only happens in this moment,
SARAH

......habits

Yogis,

The January meditation program is in full swing and we are now on day 12. I named it A New Year….A New Habit because the only way meditation works is if you actually do it! Every day. Which means that it has to become a habit. There can’t be a daily decision.

It got me thinking about habits. What are your habits? Those of you who have been reading these writings for awhile know that I have a lot. Early morning running for 35 years. Daily meditation and Friday night ‘time for me’ for 12 years. Drinking a chai tea latte each day for at least 10 years. Herbal infusions for 8 years and now oil pulling for about a year.

Once I decide on something I want to do I don’t have much trouble making it a habit. I choose it and do it. I have always been fairly disciplined even though I don’t think of myself as rigid. I just want it, so I do it. On the other hand, if there is something that may sound persuasive in words, or I see others do it and think I should, it might not stick. The key differentiating word is ‘want’.

Often, we believe we want to do something but in in reality we wish we were doing it. There is a huge difference. For example, I believe I should eat apples. I think I want to eat apples. I buy apples. They rot. Over and over. I wish I loved eating apples, but I clearly don’t ‘want’ to eat apples. This works the same for those habits we wish we didn’t have.

I was a nail biter my entire childhood. A habit. I thought I wanted to stop and tried many remedies including the foul-tasting nail polish. Nothing worked. Then one day at work when I was about 27, Dave, a coworker, looked at my nails and said, “You really shouldn’t bite them”. Time stopped. At that moment I chose to stop. That was it.

We are habitual beings. A silly example. There is a class that I have been going to that has yoga in the

title but is more about weights and squats. A new body challenge which I am enjoying. Everyone picks up two 3 lb and two 5 lb weights when they arrive, and then at the end you have to put them back on the racks.

The 3lb weights were always on the left and 5lb on the right. Well, for some reason they switched them about a month ago. It’s a total disaster! Half the students do it right and the other half in reverse. Two weeks ago, they put a big sign pointing to where the weights go. Do you think that helped? Nope. I keep picturing the poor person who has to sort them at the end of each night.

Friday night I noticed that I ‘want’ to put them in the right place, so I place them mindfully. Not sure everyone else is feeling the same way. The studio may be forced to switch back as habits are hard to change. But they can indeed be changed with will…..not thinking.   

They say it takes a month to form a new habit. I say it only takes a moment.

Once a stake is firmly planted in your inner ground that this is what you want, the rest will fall into place.

Otherwise, it is only a wish…..

Notice the difference,
SARAH

.....so long santa

Yogis,

Have you ever noticed that no matter how meticulously you sweep, dust and scoop the approximately 5 million needles that fall off the Christmas tree as you delicately (well maybe not delicately….) carry it out the front door, as soon as you put the broom away and release an exhale, fifty more needles appear?

I mean really. I feel like they are playing with me. Hiding out in the molding cracks, the door jamb and at the edge of each throw rug and then leaping back onto the floor when I have my back turned.

Yes, this was the de-christmas-ing weekend in our home. An annual event that requires lifting, ladders, super glue and much patience. A day I both look forward to and dread at the same time.

The gathering up of ornaments, Santas and place mats to be put back in their boxes is really only the first step.  It’s true, I could ignore the fact that the ten year old shopping bag that holds the left over wrapping paper, gifts bags and tissue paper has a tear in it and is missing a handle, but somehow I felt compelled this year to dump it out, go through the items and start anew. Which then somehow led me to my birthday ‘wrapping supplies cabinet’ which had become so packed that everything falls out when you open the door.  Down on my knees I went. I was ruthless.

Each time I removed things from a counter, the clear space left in its place screamed to be cleaned. Spots on now bared tablecloths no longer could be ignored. Opening the door to the frig only to find empty shelves with telltale signs of what had once filled them.  And so on…..and so on……

Laundry and dishes. A few stray items placed in the corner which need to be returned. Cookies that must be eaten so that the Christmas tins can make their way to the attic.

Two full trash cans later the house looks much bigger. Cleaner. Clearer. Each year I am startled by the space. My eyes drawn, not to objects, but the emptiness between them. A fresh new perspective.

A weekend filled with saying good-bye to what has been, but then in the next breath wondering what’s next.

I think I will have a cookie,
SARAH