....the piano

Yogis,
The pandemic left us a mixed bag of effects. One of the positives for me is I can teach from anywhere. For example, when I go to NJ to spend time with my parents I can do so without cancelling classes. I did that this week.

This is not the first time I have set up my traveling studio in their living room. My mat framed by a couch and a director’s chair, with a baby grand piano as the anchor for my backdrop.

This week people asked who plays the piano. A simple question that started me on a path.

Memory is a funny thing. You tell a story for so long you believe it to be true but when put to the test you begin to question yourself. My recollection is I took piano lessons from first through fourth grade, and then switched to violin. Never to go back to piano.

My mom though, seemed to have always been able to play. She played well enough that she was my accompanist for numerous violin concerts. I remember us practicing together.

Now the piano sits quietly.

After another asked who plays, I finally went over and sat down. The music was opened to Beethoven’s For Eloise, a song I played innumerable times. I set my fingers on the keys and watched as my brain tried to reconnect the pathways that take black marks and magically turn them into music that fills a home.

Things started coming to me, like ‘every good boy deserves fudge’ for notes on the right hand. Left hand…..not so much, yet at times it knew exactly where to go on its own. Flats. Sharps. A lot to process. My brain felt creaky, but it slowly began loosening. It felt good!

My dad came in. ‘I didn’t know you knew how to play piano.’  I told my story as I remember it. He didn’t remember that. Later I was playing again when my sister arrived. ‘I didn’t know you knew how to play the piano.’ Hmmmm……

Into the picture albums I dove. Yes! There I am at 6 at the piano.  At 8 playing as my sister joins in. Clearly what we learn when young stays deep inside and only needs a spark to reignite it. Who knew? Obviously not my family.

I asked my mom to try to play. As we sat together, her fingers too began to find the keys that turned black little circles into music we could feel.

What do you have buried?

Reigniting,
SARAH

....seeds

Yogis,
My phone rang a little before 9 on Friday morning. It was my mom telling me a bouquet of flowers had been hand delivered a little earlier that morning (flower deliveries at 8am?) and that they were gorgeous.  

Probably ten years ago I started sending flowers for Mother’s Day, with the arrival always scheduled for Friday so they could be enjoyed the whole weekend. My dad agreed to take a picture and send it to me so I could see for myself. I knew right where the flowers would be sitting.

My mom then went on to say that there were so many different colors and types of flowers and that simply looking at them was proof that there was a God.

This has been a running theme throughout my life.

I can remember being very young and her sharing this message with me. That anyplace or anything that inspired a sense of awe or wonder was an easy place to feel the connection of a greater power. Seeing a sunset. Looking over a vista. A rainbow.

Back then, as a good Catholic girl, I pictured God as a man up in the sky that I felt I was supposed to be a little afraid of. Over time my image and beliefs have shifted, yet I feel the presence of a benevolent force behind the awe. A divine creative power that swirls things into being.

Over the past few weeks I have been planting seeds. Dried out and so tiny, I prep the soil, sprinkle them about, shower them with a little water and wait. And every time I spot one of them poking their little heads up to reach for the light, I am astounded that nature can make that happen. That earth, our universal mother, can create life so effortlessly.

Before long these flowers will be big and bright and able to become a bouquet that sits on a mother’s kitchen table. And then from those, seeds can be saved and scattered once more. Amazing.

My mom planted many seeds in me……. Be kind to everyone and everything. Be sure to laugh. Never wear underpants with holes in case you are in an accident. And always stay connected to the awe.

Happy Mother’s Day,
SARAH

....simple (take 2)

Yogis,
It’s hard to believe we are in May! Seems so recent that the new year was launching, and I was sitting here writing about selecting a ‘word of the year’. A word that encapsulated your vision or intention for the year. One that had the right feeling tone. It’s time to check in.

Did you pick one? Do you remember what it was? How is it going?

The word I selected this year was ‘simple.’  As much as I still relish the word, I will admit that choosing it hasn’t had a great impact on my life so far. I want it to…..or at least I believe that I do. Yet, like most changes it takes more than wishing. It requires an inner shift.

I have taken a few steps. Cleaned out a couple of cabinets. Donated a bag of clothes. Cancelled a few subscriptions. Spending less time on my computer.  But as some things clear it seems others fill in. Life and I do not feel simpler.

I receive daily contemplative emails from Richard Rohr’s organization and each week there is a theme. Last week was simplicity which was what got me thinking about all of this. What struck me most were some quotes by sister Jose Hobday. A little of what she said:

“Some folks admire simple living. They would love to declutter. They would love to walk freely. But they don’t really want to do it, because they don’t do it. You must take the actual steps. We can’t do it in our heads. Simplicity is not an idea.”

I love that!  It is not an idea. So what is it?

She goes on to talk about how simplicity must walk through our lives with us. Go to work with us. To the store. We must wear it. Something we embody. My head was nodding with each sentence. I can see that I am treating it like an idea and hoping it will happen. Not a good plan.

When someone who lives simply walks into our lives we can see it on them. We can feel it in them. It is them.

I would imagine this to be true for any shift we are wanting in our lives. Positivity…. Courage…… Trust…… Growth…. They can’t live in our heads.  We must begin by putting them on.

I will be doing a ‘take 2’ on simple.

As spiritual writer Paula Huston says about living simply, ‘it is infinitely more enjoyable’,
SARAH