.....a little blurry

Yogis,
These past two years have bent my sense of time. Days run into weeks. Weeks run into months. Months even run into years.  It has become a running joke as I close the last class of the week we all laugh at how yet again it is Thursday. Another week in the books. But Thursday doesn’t seem much different from Monday……or Wednesday……

I figured I couldn’t be the only one who had to sometimes stop and think hard about what month we are in. Then an article ran in the Washington Post on the pandemic’s distortion of our memory of time. It said that memories are created by things that stick out from the norm. Celebrations…..not happening. Large events….nope. Trips to new places…..uh no. Meeting new people……wouldn’t that be a novel idea.

Now I am noticing this time warping effect in others. I ran with a friend who has been living at their second home through this all and was back in town. Our first discussion was on how long it had been since we ran together.  After some back and forth we agreed on a year and a half (although neither of us was sure) and it was interesting to see the markers we were using. When were covid levels low enough to be getting together. Was it warm or cold out.  As she was catching me up on her kids and the summer of 2021 she had to stop and correct herself that it was actually 2020. Things were blurry. I know the feeling.

It almost seems like 2020 and 2021 were melted down and stirred together to form one long year. No distinction between the two. So far 2022 doesn’t stand out as much different.

This all got me thinking. Is it a bad thing that our vision on time has become a little blurry? Does it matter if I don’t know what year it is? I’m not so sure.

Time as seen on a clock or a calendar is a human construct. Do the ducks know that it is Sunday? Do trees set an alarm to let them know when to begin their great release? Does it matter to the stars what year it is?

I’m not saying I want to be in this state of limbo forever, but it may provide an opportunity while we are floating in it. A chance to tell time not by the big spring fair, but by taking note when the first daffodils lift their winter heavy heads to begin blooming. To have memories created not by the summer concert, but by the first time you smell fresh cut grass. To know the seasonal shift has begun when you hear the first cricket.

Let the sun tell you to begin your day as she brightens the early morning sky and let the pink streaked clouds be your reminder that it’s time to slow down and transition to evening.

Time as we know it, is an illusion. There is just now.  And then now. And then now. Each now unique. Each different from any other one you are ever going to have so you don’t want to miss it. Look up and notice this one!

The colors, the smells, the sounds, your body…..the rhythm of your own breath. Take your time. There is profound beauty and a sense of timelessness found right here.

Make a memory of this moment. It matters not in what year it happened.

The more moments you notice, the less time matters,
SARAH

....a foundation

Yogis,
My grandson was building towers with those rectangular cardboard blocks that many of us had growing up. Red, blue and yellow, they weigh almost nothing but allow for great building and even better knocking down. Each time he would get to a certain height where that one more block would cause it to be slightly off center, wobble and crash to the ground. Then I heard him yelling for me to come and see!

There stood a quite tall building, looking very centered and secure. Not wobbly at all. He wanted me to walk all around it to see his design. That’s when I noticed the smaller block stacks he had placed against the base on each of the four sides. This one was different. It had a strong foundation and could support a tower which reached for the sky.

I feel like winter is similar…….

The cold has settled in for real here on the east coast. Highs in the thirties and lows in the teens. Weathermen quoting wind chills in their forecasts and me feeling like it takes ten minutes to get all the winter gear on every time I head out for a simple walk. Everything now brown and quiet.

It can be easy to wish winter away and try to just pass the time, but that would be a waste. In fact, I realized last night that winter is one third over and I had a moment of panic! I have so much I planned to do in the downtime of winter to prepare me for the upward growth of spring and I feel like I have barely begun!

Winter offers us free time. What other season has that superpower?

I didn’t even start my 1000 piece puzzle until this week. I am finally getting back into the swing of painting and have so much I want to create. I haven’t spent nearly enough time on writing my book, haven’t poured through the seed catalog to begin visualizing this year’s garden and have four novels stacked up waiting to be read. Soups to be made, baths to be taken, meditation to do and so much good tea sitting on my counter.

And I definitely haven’t dreamed enough……

All of these winter activities feed me. They feed my soul. They are done solo, quietly, and with intention. They give me the opportunity to take stock of where I am and build the platform from which I feel ready to leap into the frenzy of spring when it arrives. If I barrel through winter and slam right into spring I will be like the tower with no support. Wobbly. 

Use your winter wisely. Move slowly. Take time to sit and do nothing. Be quiet. Be patient. Listen for guidance. Strengthen your roots and build your foundation. There is no rush.

Cabbage soup tonight,
SARAH

.....reminder from a little one

Yogis,
These last couple of weeks have presented me the gift of concentrated time with my three year old granddaughter. With her class sent home for virtual school (really?) and doctor’s appointments for her baby brother, she and I enjoyed quiet alone time together. Lucky me.

‘Nana, you look so beautiful in that hat,’ she tells me when I arrive with my old wool winter beanie on. The look in her eyes priceless as I can literally feel her heart reaching out. ‘Nana, I love your necklaces. They are so beautiful!’ as she runs her fingers over them. ‘Nana, I love your purse.’

As we walk I point out bright red berries on the holly. Branches lined with snow. ‘They are beautiful!’ she exclaims. The snow is beautiful……the sky is beautiful……the birds are beautiful. Beauty is everywhere in her eyes.

Each morning she picks out her own outfit. I open the drawer and point to a pair of leggings with hearts on them. ‘Yes, those are so beautiful. I love them.’ Once downstairs she runs to her big basket filled with princess dresses. I lift up the Elsa blue one and slip it over her head. ‘I look so beautiful in this dress,’ she exclaims.

She asks me for music and she dances in front of the large hall mirror. Hands running through her hair, twirls that cause the dress to lift, eyes soft as she watches her arms slide through the air. Standing close to the mirror to see her own beauty by peering deep into her own eyes, without holding back. No inner voice whispering criticisms. No self-doubt.

Seeing everything as beautiful.

This is how we were all born. Living with a sense of wonder at this magnificent world we call home. Until before long our clear-eyed vision begins to dim. Our lens on the world turns cloudy to the point that we feel we have to travel to another state or around the world seeking beauty.  Losing that brand new view each day with fresh eyes that a three year old has, making the ordinary right outside our door extraordinary.

I’m sure for the first two years of her life she felt all of these emotions, but now that she is verbal she can finally release them into the world! Share with others just how beautiful life truly is!

It is a reminder to me. To take one of those lens cloths each morning and wipe the smudges off my life’s glasses and see things once again like a child. In yoga this is referred to as beginners mind. To see those things that we pass, that we do, that we receive as if we have never seen them before.

When we do this, we can regain a child’s sense of wonder.

I am giving you an assignment for this week. At least ten times notice something and tell it that it is beautiful. Out loud.

I would love to hear some of what you see with your shiny new lenses!

I need a princess dress,
SARAH

....waiting

Yogis,
Waiting is a funny thing. There is something you know is going to happen at some point in the future and in the time which precedes it, you are in a state of anticipation. Your sense of time changes, images of what is to come float through your mind and very often impatience pops her head up. Humans are typically not big fans of waiting.

Can’t it get here faster?

There are some things you wait for where you know exactly when it is going to arrive. Christmas, as an example. Your birthday. Friday. Vacation. Then there are those others that don’t have a specific time attached to them. Spring is like that. We wait and wait and wait, and often the day spring is heralded in on our calendar presents us with cold rain and gray skies. Spring arrives on her own terms.

A baby is the same way……..

Our third grandchild was due December 30^th and we were all convinced that labor would kick in sometime between Christmas and New Years – being a third child and all. But to be on the safe side I packed my bag the week before Christmas. It was cold out, so in went wool sweaters and thick socks. Christmas weekend we hit highs of 70 so out came the wool and in went cotton, only to have frigid temps in the forecast after New Years.  Each day the suitcase was reviewed and adjusted.

My phone, which is never in my bedroom, lay on the floor right next to my bed with the volume way up for two weeks. Each rollover I did included a glance down at the phone to see if there were any messages. My phone traveled with me throughout the house, on my errands (which were never far from home, just in case) and sat next to my mat while I taught. It became an appendage.

The days and weeks went by and each morning I woke up, rushed to take my shower (just in case) and waited.

The plan, we all thought, was for my daughter-in-law to be induced on Monday 1/3. At last, a specific date to focus in on! Until she was told on Sunday that no, she was only on a waitlist for Monday. Who knew?  They would call if they had an opening. And now a storm was on its way……  Suitcase adjusted yet again with snow boots and gloves.

Monday morning arrived with a blustery heavy snow and at the peak of the storm, a call from the doctor. The waiting was almost over!

After a harrowing, but head down determined drive, we continued our waiting, but now with the joyful companionship of the two other grandkids. We passed the waiting time with sledding, snowmen, books and lots of snacks. Nothing by bedtime so the phone once again rested by my head. And I waited and waited and waited……

Until 9:00 in the morning when we received the magnificent news that a healthy Benjamin Ryan Cahill had entered this world at 4 am! The waiting was over, and the blessing of his birth made every single moment of it a gift. He is perfect and my dad summed it up beautifully when he said ‘my heart swells.’

‘When are Mommy, Daddy and Ben coming home?’ the kids asked expectantly, jumping up and down. Not until tomorrow night. The waiting began again. The donuts that were delivered helped……

It feels odd not to be waiting anymore,
SARAH

....word of the year

Yogis,
My how the years fly by. Once again, we arrive at the door of another brand new year. Before us lies a blank slate on which to paint whatever it is that we want to create. What is it that you see for yourself in 2022?

One good way to begin is to select a word or words. A word that has the feeling tone of what you are imagining. A word that can act as your teacher, guide and gentle kick in the butt for those times when you forget. It doesn’t have to be fancy or specific, it just has to feel like it fits.

This week I had been waiting for my word to arrive. Patiently (well kind of)

I didn’t want to force a word or be swayed by one that I saw plastered everywhere I looked. For example, the word ‘hope’ is now being casually thrown around. The way it is currently being used implies that everything is bad right now and that all we have to do is keep up our ‘hope’ that there is light on the other side of now. But I’m not sure that is an actionable word. It also discounts the beauty of now.

We can’t hope things into being. In many ways it vibrates similarly to the word ‘wish’ that I have written about in the past. Not that hope is bad! We need it, but to me hope is about having a deep unwavering inner knowing that things can change. The opposite would be despair. We want to keep our candle of hope lit but not depend on it for the work that only we can do here on the ground.

Last night we watched ‘Don’t Look Up.’ The movie is causing a lot of discussion, but regardless of what you think of the movie, you can’t help but reflect on where we are as a world. The comet could be anything……the virus, climate change, hate, greed, political strife. Pick your poison. Hope, like the failed mission, will not fix us.

With all of that as a backdrop, my word for the year is ‘responsibility.’

I am part of the problem. There is no ‘they’ and the more times we use that word the greater the divide becomes. Only I…..you……we….. can create the change needed and the first step is owning up to how we got here. Acknowledging that we created this mess. All of it. All of us. Only with responsibility taken can we begin to forge ahead.

I will take responsibility for plastic that goes into my recycle bin. I will take responsibility for unkind thoughts. I will be responsible for planting more native plants. I will take responsibility for reading the labels of what I am putting on my body, down the drain or on my yard. I will take responsibility for the social media I consume and the Amazon that I order.

If I can’t, how can I expect others to?

As I write this I wonder if you will feel this writing is a downer on the dawn of a new year. You shouldn’t! I feel elated by the vision of working to be a more responsible human in this coming year. Of creating change. One day at a time……..

I know it isn’t sexy, but it feels like it fits just right,
SARAH