.....steward

Yogis,
It’s the time of year where I can’t help but write about English ivy….  Oh, how I wish the issue of her spread would go away on its own. If only she could offer color during the dreary winter months but remain sparse on trees. Sigh. Instead she continues her sprint forward, so I put thoughts to paper once again.

English ivy, the kind you picture climbing stone buildings, was brought to the US as early as 1727 by European settlers. Everyone loved how it’s green all year, fills in bare spots and requires no care. But we loved it a bit too much, so it is now invasive and threatens our trees.

Each late winter, I spend time cutting back ivy and other invasive vines (of which there are several new ones) from my trees. Last year I took it further and joined a group called ‘tree friends’, trained by the Park Service on slowing ivy. The group gathers in county areas to help save trees.

There isn’t an ivy fairy in your yard though. Even landscapers ignore ivy unles you specifically ask and pay for it. Garden centers continue to sell it for planting. Don’t!

It has me thinking about stewardship.

For those of us that own a home, the land it sits on which we claim as ‘ours’ (which isn’t really) deserves our care. The trees, birds, insects and plants need us to be attentive. To notice when an invasive has entered and take action. To be a good steward of the incredible gift we have been given.

Stroll around your property! Check every tree. Look at bushes and up against the house.

Ivy starts innocently enough. It thickens to engulf a trunk. It soon covers leaves blocking photosynthesis. Limbs begin looking ragged. Branches fall. The tree is smothered if it isn’t first blown over from weight. A slow death.

Best to catch it early when it can be removed. However, there is no need to get it all off. Removing ivy from ankle to knee with clippers or a small hand saw will kill what is above and the tree will breathe free again.

After stewarding your piece of earth, mention it to neighbors who have ivy on their trees. Most people don’t know. Maybe lend a hand to a tree in a common area. Earth will be grateful.

Being a steward,
SARAH

....the silence between

Yogis,
What caught my attention first this morning was the geese. Flying overhead in formation they headed inland for their day in the fields. A large V shape slicing through the morning sky. And they had a lot to say. Soon they faded off into the distance.

Only a moment later I begin to hear another flock. Much honking ensued above me before they too can no longer be seen or heard. Then another flock. And another. My run filled with the coming and going of sounds of geese.

Arriving at the boardwalk the geese are now replaced by waves. The unmistakable sound of a wave growing until it reaches a peak. Then the thrill of the crash. Over and over in a familiar rhythm. I hear the next wave building as my heartbeat quickens. I wait for it……the crash. Boom.

Then there is a moment of silence.

It’s so quick it would be easy to miss. The following swell already revving up. Yet today I notice. My attention now shifts and I begin seeking out the space between sounds. The gap that exists between the end of one wave and the formation of another. I listen.

Our breath flows the same way. The inhale is the beginning. Building and expanding until it too reaches a peak. The exhale is the dropping and letting go. Then there is a pause.

The pause is always there.

I run back through our patch of woods, startling a squirrel who makes a rustling sound as he scampers across dried leaves. He stops to look back. Silence. Again he runs and heads partway up the tree. He pauses with head cocked. Silence.

Everything moves in a cycle and as each reaches its end, there is a pause. A gap between movements. A space between thoughts. An opening between breaths. In these voids there is nothing, yet everything comes from there. In the blink of an eye a new breath rises.

I invite you to seek the silence. As you sit here, close your eyes and begin watching your breath. Observe the building of the inhale and the release of the exhale. Then wait for the silence. Patience. It is always there.

This is a practice and offers many gifts. In this space, profound peace can be found.

I hear more geese coming,
SARAH

.....running girls

Yogis,
This year I hit several forty-year milestones. Forty years! Wow. That is a long time.

I was married in 1984 on a sunny snow-covered January day. Days after my 22^nd birthday I said ‘I do’ and I continue to do to this day. My oldest son turns forty this year. I’m not sure how that is possible. Watching him with his three brings back memories that feel so recent. And forty years of owning a home.

Then there are friendships. Many also coming up to that 40-year mark as friends are often made during early parenting days when we yearn to connect with others to share the craziness.

Several of those friendships were developed while wearing running shoes.

I ran off and on in high school, but once I had a baby and full-time job, I needed a time of day that was mine with no conflicts where I could move my body. The only time that fit these stringent requirements was 5:30 am.

It began with me and a new friend across the street. Over the next couple years other women with the same needs joined. Four mornings a week we met in front of someone’s house in the dark…..with our dogs…..and ran a few miles. And talked. And laughed. And cried.

We referred to ourselves as the ‘running girls’ and at times we numbered 7 or 8 runners and 5 dogs. You couldn’t miss us as we ran up ‘the big hill’.

We ran through marriages. Divorces. Births and deaths. Illnesses, injuries and joys. We were charged by a beaver, watched a deer leap over a man passing on his motorcycle, were flashed (yuck) and learned where the port-o -johns were. A woman chased us in her car in pajamas to tell us we were too loud and we have many toenail stories.

We even held a holiday gift exchange breakfast each December at 5:30 am.

Year after year we arrived and ran. Did some races but what mattered most was the time spent in quiet mornings. How many people do you get to talk to for a half hour every day? And no matter how much we talked on the run, at the end we stood in a circle and talked some more.

Time and change have scattered us so we don’t see each other much. Yet when we do, the bond created by running through life together awakens instantly.

Friendship,
SARAH

....inconvenient

Yogis,
It’s hard to believe that it was almost 20 years ago the movie ‘Inconvenient Truth’ was produced. We were bluntly shown how our humanness is affecting the world, yet here we sit two decades later with plastics so all-pervasive they are found in our water, bodies and the breast milk our babies ingest in their first moments of life.

Whether you liked, believed, agreed with or even watched the movie, he did have one thing absolutely right. The truths are inconvenient.   

We thrive on convenience. Plastic revolutionized our culture. Buy it. Use it. Throw it away! Single servings. Vacuum packed. Portable. Even lettuce comes in plastic.

But wait…..there is recycling! And I have some land I want to sell you. Or the equipment that is combing plastic out of the ocean? Uh, no. No one can solve this for us. We are the only solution and it is extremely inconvenient. We have to stop using plastic. Aaaahhhh!

I am taking steps but it is painstakingly slow and plastic still fills my bin.  Thought I would share some of what I learned and found and would love to hear your discoveries.

When shopping I place produce directly in my cart, walking past those plastic bags. Once home I put them in green reusable produce bags. I use Debbie Meyers. Once empty I rinse and air dry them. They last months and months and keep the veggies far fresher.

I am on a subscription toothpaste bits program. No plastic tubes. It only took my mouth a short time to adjust and I love them. A glass jar is provided for storage with refills sent in a paper envelope.

  

After turning down the detergent aisle at Target and seeing rows upon rows of enormous bright plastic staring my way, I made the switch to laundry sheets. They come in a carboard box and I am quite happy. Check.

I’m in the process of trying out shampoo bars. I like my newest one. And for the body…….a bar of soap. Remember those?

I won’t buy peppers wrapped in plastic. I have bought glass containers in many sizes for leftovers (no more plastic wrap or baggies) and silicone lids for cans and placing cut fruit in. And I have ordered plastic free dishwasher pods (yes that squishy casing contains plastic).

People often say these little changes won’t matter. I choose not to believe that. If we all stopped buying plastic, companies would stop making it. Remember, there is no ‘they’. There is only us.

Inconvenienced and ok,
SARAH