.....mysterious mushrooms

Yogis,
Walking through the woods I’m hunched over with my eyes trained on the ground. Take a couple steps….pause. Take a couple steps…..pause. Crouch down. Focus. Stand up. Repeat.

Phoebe is frustrated with our pace. She is accustomed to another rhythm. One where we walk briskly to a location, she is released from the confines of a leash, we spend time there, and walk back with a spring to our step. It’s as if she is rolling her eyes and whispering under her breath ‘not again’ with each pause. Not unlike a teenage boy who you thought would be fun to bring on your shopping trip.

It’s morel mushroom season and I am on the hunt!

My first season at this ‘sport’ was last April. After seeing posts of others bringing home baskets of morels in our area, I decided I wanted to participate. I can do this, right? I read articles and watched videos. I studied their shape and coloring and learned which trees they may be under.  After days and days of foraging I had found only two small morels….neither big enough to warrant bringing home…..yet they gave me joy and vindication that yes, I can do this.

Morels are known for being mysterious and elusive.  Rising from the ground quickly, they mimic the dried leaves in which they mingle both in color and texture. With a short growing season and other hunters competing in potential choice locations, it is no wonder that veterans to the sport closely guard their coveted spots. This is a competition where its every woman for herself!

Mid-April arrives and time to freshen up my skills. I start looking on my walks with Phoebe.

A couple of days in I am with a friend and we decide to check around some tulip poplar trees. Nothing. I take a few steps away and see the tree has dropped one of its leaf pods with flowers. In that instant everything that had happened last year when I found the mushrooms flooded in. I could feel it. I turn and there right in front of me stands a large morel, her head still bent, holding the dirt she had recently pushed through. A thrill!

She had shown me.

Not much different than the spiritual journey, right? At times, what we are seeking can feel mysterious and elusive. We look and look and when we become discouraged and ready to give up, we can suddenly feel it. A moment where time stops and everything appears crystal clear, showing us that we are on the right path.

I am finding morel hunting to be an amazing mindfulness practice. One that takes the yoga tenets and rolls them together into a real-life practice.

Being present. Pausing. Awareness. Silence. Patience. Letting go.  Seeing. Opening to guidance. And most importantly…..trust.  Unwavering faith that what you seek will come.

This time I did bring it home and cooked it up in oil and butter with a little salt. OMG! I have never had a morel before, and although I like mushrooms, this went way beyond that. An explosion of flavor in my mouth. NOW I understand what all the fuss is about.

Complete trust,
SARAH 

.....dandelions and violets

Yogis,
Last Sunday I returned home from ten days at the beach. A wonderful week filled with long walks, yard clean up (which I enjoy), cooking and relaxing, yet in the back of my mind I was concerned that I might have missed the blooming of some plants in my yard. This time of year, when you head out of town for even a short time it can feel like you are arriving back to a completely different season.   

Pulling up the gravel driveway I scan the yard. The grass sits much taller now with tufts of spring garlic towering above. My fig has leaves.  I look closer. There they are! Dozens of bright yellow smiling faces looking my way surrounded by a sea of delicate nodding purple heads. Hello friends!

Dandelion and violet can be counted on to blanket the lawn with color in mid-April and they hadn’t disappointed.

I quickly unload the car, grab my mason jars and head outside. It’s a beautiful day and the sun is shining. Perfect weather to say hello, spend time together and make earth medicine. Dandelion flowers will soak in olive oil to make a salve for dry or damaged skin. Violet flowers, when placed in my white wine vinegar, will turn it a stunning vibrant pink and she will share with me her vitamins and minerals as I use the vinegar over the year.

Gifts.

   

When we think of gifts we often think of the present we buy a friend on her birthday. An object. Yet gifts involve an energy. If I hand you something you asked for, or I buy a new sweater, those are not gifts, even though there was an exchange. What makes a gift a gift?

A gift requires a giver. Someone/something expressing the energy of giving. But there must also be a receiver, or else there is no gift. And that receiver must express the energy of receiving. Which when activated becomes a gift back to the giver. A cycle. A current.

Sometimes it feels easier to be a good giver than a receiver.

Water is a master teacher of the receiving energy. If I stand down by the river and throw in a log, the river opens herself up, accepts the log and wraps her arm around it. She doesn’t ‘send it back’ or resist. She won’t tell me she wished I had thrown in a rock instead. She won’t say ‘you shouldn’t have’ or be embarrassed. She receives what I give. Fully.

The universe gives us gifts daily. Am I fulfilling my receiver role? The colors of the trees this week…..the way the sun shines through my windows as she sets……the crescent moon low in a clear night sky……a cool breeze on my warm cheek as I sit quietly collecting violet flowers. All gifts.

Am I aware?  Do I notice the gifts and receive them, or have I just come to expect them? Am I doing my part to keep the energy circulating…….

The saying is ‘the more you give, the more you will receive’, but I am also witnessing that the more I consciously receive, the more gifts come my way.

This week I opened my heart to receive them all. Each one perfect. I noticed them, pointing my awareness their way and spoke out loud. Thank you, Universe! Thank you, dandelions! Thank you, violets! I see you!

A relationship is formed. The cycle continues……

Receiving gifts,
SARAH

......spring cleaning

Yogis,
It has begun in earnest! The frenzy of spring cleaning. Can you feel it?

I guess we are no different from the squirrels. I watched one who was busy cleaning out, gathering leaves, carrying them up and sprucing up their home in anticipation of family. Or the birds, with their early morning excitement to get going on the day, not even waiting for the sun to rise. Dipping into my bird bath and fluffing their feathers. The energy is clearly in the air. Can you see it?

Spring is the time of year where our instinctual urge to sweep, mop, dust and polish arises. A natural call to clear away of the accumulation our collective winter slumber has blanketed upon us.  Wanting the space around us scoured and sparkling, prepared for the new we can sense is lying just ahead. Can you smell it?

When else would we have the desire to remove everything from the utility closet and get down on hands and knees to wipe the baseboards and mop the floor? Or decide to spend a Saturday morning pulling the sofa away from the wall to face what lurks behind? This week we even pulled the oven out. Yikes!

The annual cleanse is not limited to our homes. The body asks nicely (or not so nicely) to be lightened. To forego those cookies before bed and switch from heavy stews to steamed artichokes and roasted asparagus. It too yearns to be ready for the activities ahead. Can you taste it?

And don’t forget the yard…….When you walk out the door in spring you can hear the spring cleaning. Mowers, trimmers and blowers creating a steady hum. Lawns and gardens being cleared and primped to await the incoming rainbow of colors. Our yard an extension of us. Can  you hear it?

Spring cleaning is hard work, as any squirrel can tell you! I don’t own a leaf blower so back down on my hands and knees I go as I lift soggy clumps of leaves from deep within the ivy. Up and down, up and down. Reach this way, lift this, move this. Even climb behind the heat pumps, reaching my hand down into who knows what. By nighttime my body reminds me of each of my movements. But it’s what I refer to as a ‘good hurt.’ Removing the winter lethargy from my joints. An inner rinse that they thank me for. Can you imagine it?

We clean and vacuum our cars. Launder the bedding. Power wash the house and finally throw out the leftovers in the back of the frig. The more we do…..the more we notice needs to be done.

The spring rains soak a quickly melting earth, reminding us that this is the season of water. An annual wash of the world. I think in the next warm rain I will stand out there, opening my arms to the sky and let myself be drenched.

Want to join me?

Windowsills next,
SARAH

......visualizing bluebirds

Yogis,
A friend mentioned in class that she saw a bluebird on her feeder. A first in her yard! In fact, we don’t have them in the neighborhood. Oh, I want to see a bluebird! I don’t know that I have ever seen one. She says she will send it my way.

I start watching out the window. I listen to a recording of the bluebird calls thinking maybe I can hear them. I look at pictures online to make sure I recognize them when they arrive. As I walk down the street, I search the trees. I even paint a picture of a bluebird!

Holding my awareness on what I want to create in my life…..

When hearing about a bluebird, many picture the blue jay. I have blue jays. Those good sized boisterous birds with a pointed hat are hard to miss. Bluebirds, on the other hand are quite a bit smaller with an iridescent blue head and back, and an orange chest similar to the robin. Sometimes they are even referred to as the ‘blue robin.’

A few days later, walking through my great room a flash of blue catches my eye out the back window. I stand and wait and there he is! She not far behind with a softer grayer blue. Gone again in the blink of an eye.

I begin to see them more often, aware now of where they like to land. Thinking perhaps I could attract them to nest, I begin looking for bluebird houses. I order one and wait.

They arrive daily now and soon are checking out my old yellow birdhouse that Danny made years ago. Of all the birdhouses I have, this is without a doubt the most popular. I watch birds argue over it and one family often waits for another to move out to quickly slide in for their turn. It’s prime real estate and like today’s market it causes a bidding war.

Every day they come. They land. They go in and out to take the tour one more time. I visualize them moving in…….

Not so fast say the sparrows. Little but spunky they can be the bully on the block. Not that they necessarily want the house, they just don’t want the bluebirds to have it. My neighbor tells me that sparrows are a threat to bluebirds. Oh no. I’m not going to visualize that.

Much swooping, dive bombing and bickering ensues, yet the bluebirds hold their ground. They found the house of their dreams and don’t seem willing to let it go without a fight.

Each day I go out to have a word with the lead sparrow, reminding him that they have houses in the front yard already. That there is food for everyone, a new birdbath on the property and safety. I begin sending out the energy of ‘peaceful coexistence’ and ‘enough for all.’ He responds by building a nest with his mate in the green birdhouse adjacent to the yellow one. Hhmmmmmm……

I continue to ‘see’ a bluebird family in the yellow house and the sparrow family in the green house, projecting that image out into the universe with trust.

Ms Bluebird has begun to build a nest. Mr Bluebird is so sweet, taking his job as protector quite seriously. Standing on top surveying the property while she goes to gather material. Doing a little happy shake when she arrives back and bending his neck to look in the hole, checking on her progress. The sparrow watches from the house next door.

The answer to what we ask for isn’t always yes. Nature swirls and dances and the outcome will be what it will be, so I will try not to attach. Yet I will continue to do my part, sending welcoming energy to my new friends……the bluebirds.  

Stay tuned,
SARAH