.....I let go

Yogis,
I start this week by offering an experience. It involves your breath, a mantra and an intention.

Settle in and begin by noticing that you are breathing. You might find that when the breath is noticed it changes slightly, but you are not trying to control it in any way. All I would like you to do is place a gentle awareness on your breath. A light touch.

Oh, hello breath!

Notice the tactile experience of the breath. Sensations arise in the body. First there is a coolness in the nostrils as the air rushes in, yet as it leaves it has been warmed by your body. In the torso a feeling of inflating as you draw breath in, and then deflating as you send it back out. In and out……in and out. Life’s rhythm.

You can also ‘see’ the breath with your inner gaze. The way it rises through the center when you inhale. Then how it falls on the exhale. How the ribs spread and open to create more space and then draw quietly back together. Gentle movements at the navel. How the breath brushes your heart.

There are also distinctly different energies that ride on the two parts of your breath. When taking the breath in a lightness is created. A lifting away from the earth. If you were going to try to levitate, you would do it on the inhale. The exhale, on the other hand, makes you heavier and grounded. If you didn’t want to let me pick you up you would naturally push out all of the breath and root yourself to the earth.

Our exhale also carries the energies of relaxation…..emptying…..and letting go.

Once you feel you are synched to the pattern of the breath, I would like you to add in a mantra. A mantra is a set of words repeated consciously and with intention. The mantra for today is ‘I let go’, so we will pair it with the exhale.

Sit back now. Spend the next minute with your eyes closed watching yourself fill on the inhales and each time you slowly exhale, mentally say to yourself ‘I let go.’ I let go….. Intend to let go.  Expect it to happen. Come back when you are done.

In and out…..in and out.

How was it? Did you sense what ‘letting go’ feels like? We talk about the need to let go, but it can’t happen through thought or words. There is an internal process that is required for any form of letting go. An exhale.

Letting go of the past. Letting go of worries. Desires, thoughts and attachments. Letting go of the need to control. Of viewpoints and beliefs. The need to be right. Letting go of the future and how you wish it to be. Opening the hands and relaxing the grip. Loosening the jaw. Allowing an emptiness to pervade.

True letting go means leaping into uncertainty. An act of bravery. And what is left when we let go?

This enormously beautiful messy present moment which contains absolutely everything. The excitement of not knowing. An openness to living life one breath at a time.

In and out…..in and out.
SARAH

.....snippets of perfection

Yogis,
When you return from a vacation everyone asks you how it was. They want to hear if you had a good time and get a brief overview of what made it special. No one really cares to hear all the details or see every picture you took, so I found myself mentally sifting through the sounds, smells, sights and experiences that I had in my eight days in St John to attempt to weave a week of perfection into a couple soundbites.

Should I talk about the morning hikes? How they began with my feet in the sand and ended at the top of a cliff surrounded by silly looking cactus and a blue sea that extended as far as the eye could see. A small plateau in which to pause, catch your breath and inevitably strike up instant friendships with the few other hikers doing the same.

Or perhaps I should recount the tales of animals that crossed my path (literally) who made it clear I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The goats who peered down at me from the top of my outdoor shower and whose bleats filled the morning air. The donkeys who strolled the beach in the afternoon grabbing snacks out of unsuspecting sunbather’s beach bags. Or the click-click-click of the armies of hermit crabs marching through the brush to who knows where. The pink flamingos that recently arrived in the salt pond or the hummingbirds.

Maybe I could share how incredibly satisfying that first bite of a perfectly grilled mahi-mahi sandwich was after a leisurely afternoon on the beach. That first delightful sip of the painkiller which accompanied it, dusted with fresh ground nutmeg.

But how could I not mention the moon? The way she would lift each evening over the horizon as we watched through open doors facing east. Surrounded by thousands of stars and throwing a river of light across the ocean’s surface. Not to be outdone, the sun would then wake me each morning as she rose from the same position, casting her beams on my bed to let me know it was time to stir. Another new and glorious day.

The light breeze that would brush my skin just at the right time during our morning yoga practices on the balcony. The turtles who allowed me to float alongside them as they munched sea grass. My first shark sighting underwater. Living in cutoff shorts with warm sand between my toes.

But most of all, how can I possibly find the right words to express that by the end of the week, as I floated on my back with the sun on my face, my hair filled with salt and my feet blistered from miles of hiking I felt the immense ‘me-ness’ inside bursting out to be seen. Alive…..joyful……and oh so filled with gratitude.

How was your vacation? It was perfect.

Sun kissed,
SARAH

.....stretching

Yogis,
Often when I tell someone I am a yoga teacher they rush to tell me that they stretch. For those who have never done yoga, from the outside yoga looks like a whole lot of stretching.

Which in some ways it is. The asanas, or poses, place the body in a variety of different positions which cause the body to stretch in at least one area, but often in many. It may be the arms lifted over the head, hips swiveling, and back leg lengthened, like in a warrior pose. Or lying on the back with feet planted, hips lifted and shoulders rolled under the body in a bridge. So yes, yoga does stretch the body and over time creates greater flexibility.

But that is where the similarities end…….

Last week again someone shared that they stretch, and I nodded. Yoga is an experiential practice that can only be understood by doing, so the difference is not something I typically attempt to explain. But it did get me thinking.

Here is an example. When we stretch, we move our body in a certain direction and hold for a short time. Sometimes bouncing ensues. Our mind is often elsewhere, and the eyes move about. Yoga also moves the body into a certain position which is the physical piece of the practice. Then, however, all of the attention moves inward.

The eyes soften and fix to one unmoving point, called a drishti. Now it is time to become still and turn the awareness to the breath. Thoughts float by as we stay tuned in to the present moment. There is the effort of holding the body active, yet at the same time allowing an inner relaxation. The ease. And we stay.

The pose begins when we want to leave it.  B.K.S Iyengar

Where stretching has wonderful physical benefits and is critical as we age, yoga takes all of that and moves beyond the physical. In fact, in the yoga scriptures, yoga is described as a mind practice. And as the mind changes, we change.

A few days later I came across an article in the paper on this very topic. Thank you, Universe! It was a study done in Canada on the effects of adding stretching or yoga to an exercise plan for cardiovascular health, and in particular for those with high blood pressure. While both practices showed reduction in blood pressure readings, the yoga approach resulted in a 2 ½ time greater reduction over the stretching!

The results were clear although they were not able to determine the exact mechanism that caused the difference. For those of us who have a yoga practice, we know the difference. It is subtle and we can feel it. When the mind is calm and the breath slows, the body follows.

I went to the doctor this week for my annual exam. As the tech unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from my arm she announced, ‘112 over 76. Excellent!’

Thank you yoga,
SARAH

.....final act

Yogis,
My mother-in-law Marion passed away last week, three months after celebrating her ninety sixth year on this planet. Her funeral was held Thursday and as the sayings goes, weddings and funerals are what bring everyone together. This one was no exception. Fifty of us made our way to a town just outside the Philadelphia line to remember a life well lived.

I remember vividly the day I met Marion. We had traveled to her house to announce our engagement. I was so nervous, but she welcomed me with open arms and insisted on making me a ‘nice sandwich.’ She was kind to me that day and continued to be so throughout the forty years I have called her family.

One of the themes of the service was that we are given the gift of birth and will inevitably leave here through the passageway of death, but what lies between those two markers is up to us. A life is defined by our moment-to-moment choices. A story is left behind for others to recall and recount. Hers was a good one.

Marion was the baby among ten children. She became a mother to seven children who then went on to give her 12 grandchildren who up to now have produced 17 great grandchildren. And they all loved their Nan. The matriarch. Some people casually say that family is important, but Marion lived and breathed family.

When she first moved into an over 55 building in her early eighties she told me that everyone wanted to get to know her but she didn’t need to make new friends. She had her family and that was enough. Of course, being the social creature that she was, friends were inevitable, but it was the frequent visits from daughters and grandkids that lit up her day.

She was also a role model for being happy and content in a world which tries hard to convince us never to rest there. Within a few months of each of the moves she had to make, due to injuries or the need for more care, she would declare that ‘this is the best place I have ever lived!’ And in a journal found after her death an entry from 1999 expressed how much she loved everyone and how happy she was with her life. She found beauty in the simple.

A love for the ocean flowed through her veins and was passed down to her children, making a leap over to me in the early days. Our annual trip to Stone Harbor, which is still going strong, began in 1985 as a way to surround her with family in her favorite place. At times I would look around and find that she had quietly snuck away, sitting alone at the edge of the water, book in hand and toes in the sand. I took that lesson and find myself doing the same when life becomes a bit too loud.

She made a mean chicken soup, could clear a table in a good friendly (well….usually) game of poker and how she loved the sun on her face.

Surrounded by the extended family on Thursday I saw and felt the connections, joy and love in everyone there. A happiness of being together. This final act of her story was the perfect enactment of how she lived. She would have absolutely loved it!

Funerals remind us to revisit our own story to be sure it is the one we want remembered.

Om,
SARAH

......making soup

Yogis,
Thursday was a wet gloomy day. That kind of day that turns the world quiet and invites you to stay cuddled up inside. In addition, my refrigerator drawer inventory was becoming overstocked with cabbages received over the last few weeks from my CSA. The perfect day for making soup!

I usually make soup weekly in the winter, but this year has been so mild it has not been calling to me. In my mind I see soup being eaten with the winds howling at the window and me sitting in front of a fire. And although Thursday was in the fifties, the gray sky and forecast of plummeting temperatures on Friday spurred me to the kitchen. My bright red dutch oven is always sitting on my stovetop at the ready.

I love to make soup.

The very first step is chopping vegetables. Lots of vegetables. Onions and garlic, of course. Carrots, celery and some parsnip thrown in for good measure. And the cabbage. Lots of vegetables means lots of chopping.

I remember when I became vegetarian over 30 years ago, the first thing I noticed was the amount of chopping required for this lifestyle. I wasn’t used to that. But I did it over, and over, and over, until I began to enjoy it. Everyone insisted I needed a Cuisinart, but I am not a gadget person. I felt that if I was asking these vegetables to nourish me, the least I owed them was my personal attention. My hands on them. Holding them for mindful rinsing. Light peeling. Ready for chopping.

Chopping vegetables is its own spiritual practice. No need to rush. Enjoying the textures of each unique one as the knife slices through. The colors creating artwork on the cutting board.  Herbs torn by hand fill the air with their scent. Tears from onions clear the sinuses. And I can never resist popping a piece of each into my mouth. Preparing a meal with gratitude for the gift of vegetables.

As the onions hit the heated oiled pot they sizzle. Soon garlic joins in. Once soft I slide my hand down the cutting board to push in the carrots, parsnips and celery. Finally the cabbage is sprinkled in….the star of this show. Seasonings added. Some canned tomatoes join and finally the glass quart jar of vegetable stock that I made previously which has been defrosting in the sink. As it simmers the many begin to become one.

The trimmings of the carrots, onion and celery are all saved on the counter with leftover bits of garlic and the hard ends of the cabbage. These too will be used as I simmer them in a crockpot with water overnight to make new stock for my next soup. A complete life cycle.

The soup is finished and the whole house smells amazing. A bowl will warm my belly and my soul……and I often end up with enough to share with friends. Spreading the love cooked into homemade food.

Enjoying a connection with my food,
SARAH

.....relationship

Yogis,
Recently there was an article in the Washington Post about plants. The discussion was whether it is possible to have a relationship with a plant. There is scientific research being done to determine if plants respond to human touch and voice……since we tend not to trust anything until proven by science (but that’s another whole topic.)

These type of studies have been going on as long as I have been alive as demonstrated in my middle school science fairs. Inevitably at least one student would have conducted an experiment growing plants from seeds, each being raised with different stimuli. Some were sung to, some ignored, while others even yelled at. The potted plants, in different states of growth would be displayed on a folding table with charts, usually next to the kid who had saved his baby teeth and soaked them in Coke.

I remember even at that age having absolutely no doubt that plants benefit from our company…..or that Coke was bad for your teeth.

Fast forward to adulthood and a snake plant someone gifted me about 20 years ago. If I recall, it had four or five stems which were each about 18 inches tall, and was in one of those standard dark green plastic pots. I had a few indoor plants at the time and admit I did not pay them a whole lot of attention.

Five years later we moved next door and I put the snake plant in the basement guest room next to the window. I would go down to water it every week or two, but otherwise, unless we had guests, it sat alone.

The stems grew slightly taller and began to flop over from their weight. I put a wood stake in the pot and loosely tied them upright. I would give it a pep talk and head back upstairs. Until one time when I went down and walked in the room, I swear it looked over at me and said, ‘Are you serious? You are going to leave me in here forever?’ Sigh. Upstairs she came and I placed her next to my ficus in the reiki room.

Recently a client walked in for her first session and exclaimed, ‘that is the biggest snake plant I have ever seen!’

She is now taller than me, has been transplanted three times and is probably comprised of over 50 stems. It is hard to even water her since she is so thick. Then a few years ago she started blooming annually! Who even knew they bloomed?

I talk to her. I play music. I light candles. People come and lie on a table right next to her as we slow our heartbeats. I teach breathing classes in there. She receives my exhales and in turn transforms them into new air for me to breathe. The room has amazing energy and she plays a role in creating that.

Do we have a relationship?

A relationship must flow in both directions. All I know is I finally gave her the environment and attention she needed to flourish and in return she cleans my air, beautifies the space and makes me smile.

Do you have a plant friend? I would love to hear about her.

In a relationship,
SARAH

......the day after

 Yogis,
Today is the day after. The house is quiet again. Beds are empty. The planning and set up are over.

Yesterday I hosted a baby shower for my daughter-in-law who is expecting their first baby April 1. Twelve women traveled to my home from close and far to honor, support and celebrate Bridget’s journey from maiden to mother. The way of the woman.

Today is the day after. I gather all of the small pinecones that I lovingly searched for at the beach this past month. Removing the twine I used to tie them to the cloth napkins, I picture us all around the table enjoying a meal and each other’s company. When women come together, food is shared.

As I sweep out the ashes from the fireplace, the aroma of rose essential oil still lingers from the heart ritual we performed in a sacred circle. Our inner light shining, we sent love from one hand to the next until it made its way back for us to each individually receive. Love is what brought us together. When women gather, light and warmth happen.

I collect the goddess cards that each woman selected from the oracle deck to place them back with the others in their box. I can hear each woman’s unique voice as they read the poem aloud associated with their goddess. When women gather, the goddess within us feels free to be seen and heard.

Placing the folded blanket back on our big overstuffed chair, I can see Bridget…..with our grand dog Ralph…..holding court as she opened gifts. A handmade quilt. A mushroom basket. Onesies covered with drawings of pears. When women gather, we give. And more importantly we receive with open hearts and much gratitude. This baby girl and her mom are deeply loved.

The woodland animal figures I found online are packed away. The greenery I thoughtfully trimmed from evergreens on my street, in parks and in woods is being handed back to the earth. The tea station which warmed both our hands and insides on an unusually frigid day has been cleaned up. Dishes and wine glasses washed, napkins laundered and serving platters back in their cabinets.

It took the last several weeks to prepare for this special event. Not unlike a pregnancy. I visualized….a lot. I planned. I shopped. I gathered. Moments of excitement followed by moments of worry. Will I have enough? Will I be enough? Wanting the guest of honor and all of the family and friends to feel cared for and welcome. As women, we mother life and the milestones it holds.

Yet here I sit taking apart all of it in one brief afternoon. Dismantling. A death.

Governed by the moon and tides, woman live their lives in the rhythm of cycles. One of the women picked the Kali card. Kali is considered the mother of all living beings. Extremely powerful, revered and even feared she is also the destroyer. She cannot be tamed. She reminds us that the feminine energy is fierce and is responsible not only for birth, but for allowing death when the time has come. Completing the cycle.

Finally, I fold up the table that served as an altar for the objects brought that remind us of our own mothers. Pictures, jewelry, lotions and songs sang at bedtime. Memories of mom deep within that made us laugh and of course brought tears.

Being a woman,
SARAH

Motherhood has the greatest potential influence in human life.
~Unknown