....remembrance

Yogis,
During morning runs on my Jersey shore family vacation I pass memorial benches lining dunes and parks. Etched with names of those who have died and accompanied by caring words, they are a form of remembrance. Honoring.

Certain words are used a lot. In loving memory…..Forever in our hearts…..Never forgotten. Lovely thoughts but if someone chooses to honor me with a bench once I no longer walk this earth, I am not sure those feel right. Then what would I want it to say? How do I want to be remembered?

I see one that says ‘She enjoyed life’s simple moments.’ Ok, that is getting closer.

I notice another that would perfectly suit my mother-in-law who passed away a couple years ago.  ‘Sea what you started. An ocean of memories.’ It was her own childhood love for Stone Harbor that drew the whole extended family to begin the annual tradition of meeting there for this week forty years ago. An ocean of memories indeed. Four generations under one roof in our house this year.

But what words suit me?

Thursday evening after taking a shower I lathered my body as I always do with olive oil and a drop of essential oil. I chose lavender. I consciously chose lavender each day last week since I was surrounded by my four grandchildren.

My granddaughter runs up for a hug. As she buries her head in my chest she asks “Nana, why do you always smell so good?”

I began choosing lavender when my first grandchild was born. A light lovely happy calming scent. Smell is our most primal sense. Bypassing the thinking mind it heads directly to our area where memories are formed. When we smell something from our childhood we are immediately back there. To all of them now, lavender brings memories of Nana, hugs and love.

Aha! My bench. How about this? Edits welcomed.

‘Feeling you and your hugs whenever I close my eyes and smell the lavender.’

What does your bench say?

Another option would have to include bare feet,
SARAH

....diary

Yogis,
My parents are in the process of emptying out their attic and basement. Items that have been sitting quietly in the dark for thirty, forty, even fifty years are being taken to the garage either to be claimed by family or friends or sold online. Any remaining will head to the dump. Something I should be doing in my own home.

One such item was my diary.

Did you ever have a diary? I remember starting, but never finishing several, yet the one my mom welcomed me with at the door this week was filled from Jan 1 through Dec 31. The year was 1974. I was 12 years old.

When my mom found it she read a few pages but decided she shouldn’t since there may be secrets. I assured her that although I didn’t know what it contained, I was confident there were no shocking revelations. I clearly remember being quite careful because the adorable little keys which were intended to be the security for my deepest dreams and desires did not seem very foolproof.

My hunch was right. More of a review of the daily life of a 12-year-old girl in 1974. Without social media and only a handful of tv channels, days were spent with friends, making up dance routines, playing with our hamsters and a lamb and wandering around the mall. Many sleep overs and experimenting with makeup. And frequent outdoor adventures.

On April 8^th I watched Hank Aaron hit his record breaking 415^th home run with over 53,000 other fans in the Atlanta stadium. Four months later we gathered to witness Nixon resign on the big wood console tv in my grandparents family room in New Jersey. In between the two we had moved states yet again.

I ended each day’s entry with ‘bye’.

Diaries stopped for many years to be replaced by journals as an adult. Journals then ceased and this blog began. That unchanging little girl in me is still careful but takes a bit more risk in sharing herself with others. And there is no key this time.

I wanted a boyfriend, my breasts to grow and more excitement in life,
SARAH

....arms in the air

Yogis,
As the weather warms and summer smells arrive, I am reminded of the feelings this season brought when I was young. With school winding down and the pool opening my jean shorts would reemerge. And my bike.

A banana seat bike with a sissy bar attached to the back so I could give friends a ride. Streamers hanging from the handlebars, a kickstand and of course a bell. I loved it.

Riding through the neighborhood, my long blond hair blowing in the wind as I headed down a hill. Then…..letting go. Arms out. Trusting that the bike would take me where I intended to go. Freedom.

As an adult it’s harder to let go.

Our body holds on to tension. The mind convinces us we have to hold tight to beliefs, opinions and worries. Emotions hold on to past hurts or angers. To let any of it go seems like we don’t care or we are giving in to someone. We have to control and drive this ship of life. Right?

Try this. Sit quietly and mentally repeat to yourself slowly ‘I let go’. Over and over. Pay attention to what happens in the body. Any changes or sensations. To increase the effect, state it on the exhales.

Words are powerful. They hold a vibration and when spoken mindfully they create a roadmap of where you want to go, and the body responds. An internal mantra.

Even more incredible is not only the internal world changes, but life responds too. When we let go of something that we have been resisting or clinging to, over time it too softens.

Use this for anything. Something you are worried about. A relationship. An argument. A judgment. A rigid belief. Anything causing you discomfort by holding on.

Bring it to mind, close your eyes, visualize breaking the connection to it and as it floats away state ‘I let go’. Over and over. Whenever it pops back up…..repeat! By changing your vibration the outer world wants to resonate with you. It will follow your map.

Choosing arms in the air with trust in life. Freeing!

Hair blowing in the wind,
SARAH