.....a joy circle

Yogis,
A quick review. Last year I volunteered to plant and tend a one block garden along our town’s main street. The garden bloomed and thrived until a miscommunication between a neighbor and the county had it mowed to the ground in one fell swoop on a beautiful summer day.

Fast forward to this year, and yes, I am a glutton for punishment. In May I agreed to jump back in with both feet. In the past four months I have grown flowers from seeds, added some new plants, trimmed, watered and deadheaded for at least a few hours every week. I check on it in the dark during my morning runs (once a policeman stopped to see what the heck I was doing) and say hello each time I drive by. I even arrange for someone to keep an eye on it when I am away. A labor of love.

This summer has been challenging. With the scorching heat and draught of July, the tired looking plants begged for water every couple days. Their area is free standing receiving full sun and fresh breezes so their care is always under a blazing sun. And while those conditions are optimal for creating a blanket of flowers, they also subject the plants to direct hits of August’s torrential rains. This week I have been down there three times, lifting them up and giving a pep talk to everyone who had been flattened to the ground.

The other day I ran into a friend who asked if I was still the one tending that area. I nodded and he asked if I am paid.

Now that’s funny! Paid money, no. So why do I do it? I thought about it for a moment and answered, ‘for the good of Cabin John’. It got me thinking.

Not sure I would say I have a gift for gardening, but I certainly have been given the gift of enjoying gardening. Of working with the plants to co-create something beautiful. And when we have a gift, we are meant to share it. That is what I am doing. An act of giving. Sharing  my gift with others.

Each time I am down there, drenched in sweat with dirt buried under my nails and my quads begging me to stop squatting, someone will inevitably walk by and compliment the garden or thank me for doing this work. A circle begins to form.

I was thinking about this while full body wrestling with the Black Eyed Susans trying to get them upright. Just then a woman came by and looked me in the eye and said thank you. ‘You’re welcome,’ I replied as I looked back down. But she continued. ‘No really…..I am sure not enough people thank you and this garden brings joy to so many and I want to be sure you know that.’ Wow!

What we give comes back, tenfold. Give what it is that you want to receive.

This is how the Universe works. I certainly don’t spend my free time carrying heavy buckets of water to the garden for the accolades. I do it because it brings me joy, and in turn it then brings others joy. The circle continues as they then share gratitude back, which brings me additional joy. Feeling good I buy a new plant to add, and the garden is happy.

There is also one more circle created. I plant and the bees and butterflies come. While I trim, they land and look my way. I take pictures and smile. Each of us participating in a joy circle.

What is it that you want? Give it……

Give and you shall receive,
SARAH

....stormy weather

Yogis,
The last couple of weeks have brought flooding rains and storms to our area. My phone blares flash flood and severe thunderstorm warnings in the middle of the night. Trees falling on neighbor’s houses, roads closed and our driveway at times resembling a river. The downstairs door now so swollen with moisture that it’s becoming almost impossible to open.

This all a mere backdrop to the happenings in the world.

It feels as if there are storms every where we look. Fred, Grace, Henri of course, with many in the country of Haiti once again struggling for basic human necessities. Fire storms sweep the west while rains fall for the first time in recorded history on the ice cap summit in Greenland.

Reading only the front page of the paper right now can bring you to tears.

The prevailing winds in our cities right now blow in a swirl of violence. Drive by shootings and fourteen year olds with guns.  All as a virus continues its westerly track through the world while we all wage a war of angry words and opinions, when in reality we are all confused. How could we not be…..

Then there is Afghanistan. The images of fear and desperation are heart wrenching. Feeling helpless and guilty to be sitting here in my nice home on a comfortable couch where I can walk around tomorrow in shorts and do as I please without being beaten.

The stormy weather of 2020 seems to have stalled over us with no real clear forecast in sight.

This week I found myself with daily sprinkles of irritation. Teary. A little distant. Then I was reminded.

Thirteen years ago when I decided to shift my focus to teaching yoga I had to give myself a name. The word Serenity came to mind and when I looked it up the meaning was not that there are no storms. Serenity is the calm found within the storms, of which there will be many. Even daily at times.  

It gets to the heart of what yoga is. Although you will ‘stretch’ in yoga, that is not what it is. You may become blissfully more flexible, have improved balance or sleep better. Hooray! But that is not what yoga is.  ‘Yoga’, over time, seeps in and becomes a state of mind. A way of being. An ability to engage at a deep level with the world and all of its messiness yet do it from an inner sanctuary that is solid, centered and unwavering.

Yoga is an opening of the heart which creates immense joy. But the heart is also the container for sorrow and at times we must open the top.  

Full moon in Aquarius tonight,
SARAH

......volunteers

Yogis,
One of my favorite things in gardening is discovering volunteers! Volunteers are those plants that have shown up in your garden without you putting them there. They could have arrived in a myriad of ways……blown in by a gust of wind, carried unknowingly on my sweater, dropped by a bird or even digested by some creature who then used the garden as a rest stop.

Every year I have at least a few fun surprises and they show up when I am least expecting it.

I have a quite large pot on the deck where I plant cherry tomatoes. A few years ago I kept forgetting to plant them for the summer season. One day I realized it was probably past time to start and would have to wait until next year, and that very afternoon while looking out the window some greenery caught my eye. Three tomato plants, different from the ones I typically grow, where looking in at me. Well, hello there! I received a nice tomato harvest without any effort on my part. How great is that!

The next two years they came back. Becoming an established member of my garden family but the pot they were in was aging, discolored and causing rot on the deck. This was the year to keep tomatoes down in the garden. I bought a new pot for flowers, discarded much of the dirt out of the old one so I would be able to carry it, and left on vacation. I’m sure you can guess what happened. Four tomato plants were waiting for me on my return, roots down in the shallow concave hole I had created. They now have dozens of small tomatoes on them. The old pot, of course, remains where it was.

Mullein is my soul plant and I have been trying for years to establish her on my property with very little success. I lay seeds, accept transplants from friends and watch, while nothing happens. Last fall, while getting the mail, I noticed a first year mullein right outside my mailbox garden (not in, of course). Yay! I surrounded her with rocks so she wouldn’t get trampled or mowed and this year watched her grow her large rosette of soft downy leaves and a spectacular rod of small yellow flowers which rose from her center.  In July I find another new mullein, halfway down the gravel driveway! No one is allowed to drive over her.

Finally Queen Anne’s Lace, aka wild carrot. I had tried. Seeds planted, watered and small growths tended with care. Perhaps one flower and then she disappears. Recently I am checking in on ‘driveway mullein’ when I turn to find a dainty white head smiling and bobbing in the wind. She too has chosen the driveway and she couldn’t be happier. Our driveway is going to be an obstacle course for a while.

What incredible gifts these are! And they all share stories with me.

Tomato tells me that in upheaval, even when the earth is literally pulled out from under you, put one foot, or root, in front of the other with trust. You can do the extraordinary when you believe. Mullein is making it loud and clear that she prefers the edges over the garden. When I find myself becoming to button upped and always being what ‘I am supposed to be’, I pull in mulleins reminder to sometimes color outside the lines. To let down my hair and live a life that ‘feels’ right. 

And Queen Anne's Lace, with her light and airy disposition, laughs as she says, ‘Sarah, stop trying so hard’.

Ready to be surprised,
SARAH

....butterfly lessons

Yogis,
It’s August so it must be butterfly season!

You would think I would remember. Every July I look around the garden with dismay at the lack of butterflies. One here and one over there, but less than I am expecting. What have I done wrong? Are the butterflies gone? Is there a predator nearby? Maybe I need new plants.

Then August hits and suddenly the garden air is dotted with a rainbow of color. Multiples eager for the same branch of butterfly weed. Large yellow swallowtails sip from the zinnias while their black cousins flutter above. The black and white stripes with streaks of red make the zebra swallowtail easy to spot from across the yard. The vibrant orange monarchs flutter from the front gardens to the back.

There is something so joyful about a butterfly……..

I am a believer that everything in nature has important lessons when we pay attention. Rocks remind me to remain grounded. The trees show me the importance of standing still and noticing where I am. The sky gives me a glimpse into the infinite possibilities I am offered every single day, while the rain whispers that a thread of grief is woven into this human life and it’s ok at times to get drenched.

Now the butterfly….she teaches us many lessons. The one she is known best for is the ability to transform. To become whoever it is that you want to be, and the trust required to take that journey. But this summer as I spend late afternoons around them, feeling the vibration of their wings as they brush against me, the word that comes to mind is freedom.

The elegance of the flight of a butterfly is something to behold. With nothing weighing her down, she lands with the utmost grace and within seconds, lifts effortlessly into the air once again. Not allowing herself to be burdened with the challenges of being a butterfly, it’s as if she floats through life. Gentle and kind, she leaves as quickly as she comes, quietly disappearing into the tree cover above, like a balloon whose string has slipped through my fingers. Carefree. Taking flight.

Sometimes our lives can seem the opposite. The daily challenges like overpacked suitcases making us feel burdened and trapped. Heavy. But there is nothing except the constraints our mind artificially creates that hold us down. The butterfly looks back over her wing and winks. Let go of your worries and follow me.

Freedom does not require you to leave home or a job. It isn’t a place and it isn’t someone else’s to give you. Freedom is an inner vibration. A state of mind which is close by whenever you consciously choose it. When you are ready, freedom can be found by closing your eyes and letting go into the very next breeze…..

Last night at the beach it poured and poured. A much-needed gully washer. I had been listening to it drumming on the roof all evening, but before bed I chose to slip out alone into the night, shorts and all, and let myself be completely drenched. Freedom!

Phoebe was a little worried…….

Butterfly magic,
SARAH

....something larger

Yogis,
Monday morning began promptly at 5:30 am with Phoebe spotting a fox outside the window. Once he was shooed away and she was calmed out of her fox frenzy we headed out for our run. Not even to the bottom of the street another fox trots across the street in front of us, and before returning home a half hour later two more chose to make themselves seen. Monday was definitely fox day.

Tuesday morning as we open the door we are greeted by the owl. A serenade that makes me swoon. I hadn’t been hearing them this summer and was grateful for the return. One mile later we hear another one making a raucous high in the trees, the sounds slicing the thick morning air. Not two minutes later another joins in. We stop to rest and listen for a while. Tuesday was most definitely owl day.

In class Tuesday night I recount the stories. What will Wednesday be, I ask?

Wednesday dawn, not dark but not light, we spot something a few houses down. Arched back. Long bushy tail. Raccoon, I think. It turns to look and I laugh. The neighbors Maine Coon cat…..who happens not to be afraid of dogs…..which makes Phoebe understandably nervous as she mumbles under her breath. I began to wonder if the resemblance is why it is named a coon cat. Had never thought about it. As we make the final turn to head back home I see the shape once again. What is the cat doing all the way up here? It waddles by and I see the tell-tale ringed eyes. Raccoon. Wednesday was unquestionably raccoon day.

No matter how many times these encounters occur, every one is a thrill. My heart beats a little quicker and I remember it throughout the day. But why?

I do love animals, but I am realizing there is something more than that. When I encounter wildlife, and there is that split second of recognition that I see them and they see me, it reminds me that I exist within something much larger. That the natural world in which we reside is so much bigger and greater than us. And that brings me joy.

It is easy to get swept up in the human world and start believing we are the world. Day to day relationships, jobs, material objects, social media, technology, politics. They each have a tremendous magnetic pull that sucks us in and holds us hostage. It all begins to feel so important and real. I am reminded of the Truman Show where he is unknowingly living in a reality tv show. A bubble. Do the deer peer in at us, laughing and wondering how we could possibly not know?

So, I go into the quiet of the woods to listen for birds and dip my feet in the cool river water. I look to the night sky to thank the moon and get lost for a moment in the stars. I photograph bugs and I hug trees.  All to be reminded daily of how small I truly am. We are but one little piece of something so incredibly beautiful. For that I am grateful.

Thursday was heron day……. Let me know what today was for you!

Bowing down to the Universe,
SARAH