......falling down

Yogis,

I have fallen a few times this year.  Fortunately they all resulted  in some minor scrapes, bumps and a bruised ego, but no major issues (thank you yoga!!) Falling is part of life. It happens to all of us. 

As kids we fall all of the time. Having three sons I learned that falling can even be an art, practiced over and over in front of an adoring audience. Children fall with grace and humor. Falling as an adult is lot less elegant. Thud.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrOSwCTXGqg   (some good falls in this one)

I was thinking about this as on my morning run.  The fact that I am aging and will eventually down the road be referred to as ‘old’.  And older people are always told to – be careful.  Yikes. The vision of living ‘carefully’ each day is not one that gets me leaping out of bed in the morning.  I prefer to believe the path forward is living ‘mindfully’.

Careful vs Mindful.  What exactly is the difference?

Careful - making sure of avoiding potential danger, mishap, or harm; cautious (synonyms – beware, wary, on guard, watch out)

Mindful – conscious; aware of something; present (synonym – watchful, respectful, observant)

One of my falls was while running with Phoebe. We were passing another dog on a leash and I was pulling her toward me while she strained in the other direction. One of her feet and one of mine became tangled and down I went.  Hello pavement! After that incident my well-meaning concerned friends told me to ‘be careful’. 

That gives me two options. Don’t run in the dark with Phoebe or be attentive to danger while heeding my every step. Neither one works for me. But being mindful does. Being present and aware, not lost in thought. Being more in tune with her movements and energy.  Noticing where my feet strike the earth.  ‘Careful’ to me feels heavy and suggests fear of possibilities, where ‘mindful’ hints at wide awake and knowing. Neither one will eliminate our spills but each lends a different life feeling tone when we are upright. 

My 90 year old mother-in-law has also had some falls. Unfortunately hers did result in some broken bones. Everyone keeps cautioning her to ‘be careful’. Don’t do this, call help for that, stop going there. She nods but then continues on with life.  I have watched and talked to her. She shares that she is fine and knows what feels right and what doesn’t. Taking her time. Respecting her body’s new limitations.  I watch her make her way to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and I quickly offer to carry it back to the couch for her – wanting her to ‘be careful’.  “No thank you dear, I can do it”  And she does……  Mindfully.  She has chosen living over worry. 

I walk barefoot……be careful they say.  I spend time in the woods…..be careful they say. I don’t wear bug spray….be careful they say.  I talk to the fox….be careful they say.  I don’t lock my car…..be careful they say. I trust people…..oh boy, be careful they say. 

Should I be careful who I fall in love with – or - be mindful of how much love I have to share and shine it out on all.

A mindful life or a careful life?  Which do you choose?

I’ll take one of the mindful thank you,
SARAH

.....pinwheels

Yogis,

Lately pinwheels have been appearing in my life.  You know…….the ones we were given at the beach and birthday parties. Fourth of July and pool events. You blew them or held them to the wind to start them spinning.

                                                                                                             

The main street in our small town underwent a widening project last year that was somewhat unsuccessful. A grass median was redone which separates the road from the walking path.  The unintended consequence was the dirt used was too soft and we had torrential rains in both fall and spring, so it became a mud pit. Filled with weeds and tire tracks (it always amazes me how many cars use grass medians to turn around on or run over). 

Finally it was redone once again and this time small metal poles were stuck along the edge to discourage ‘off-roading’. Still a bit of an eyesore. So some underground town helper has been placing pinwheels into the tops of the poles. Pinwheels with sparkles.

On my morning runs I pass this stretch of the road. It is dark, quiet and still, but if a car happens by or a breeze blows the pinwheels begin to spin one by one until the whole row is glistening. 

My teaching of the spiritual path uses the chakras as its foundation. Chakras are spinning energy centers that run along an energy line in front of the spine from the tailbone to the crown of the head.  Each one unique in its function and effect on our health, emotions, mental wellbeing and ability to connect to our own soul and to the Universe. I realized this week that they are quite similar to pinwheels.

Remember how after you had a pinwheel for a few days it inevitably got bent or out of line with the stick? No matter how hard you blew it would never again find the ease it had when you first held it up. It became stuck.

The same thing happens in our chakras. When the earth chakra spins too slow we feel ungrounded and unsafe.  If our water center isn’t flowing we don’t feel good in our skin. Fire energy can cause us to harbor anger and low heart energy makes us distrustful and closed. Too much talking from uneven throat energy and trying to think our way through this mystery of life instead of ‘seeing’ and receiving the unseen outside sources guiding us along the way. We become stuck.

But when we do the internal work to have all of these energy centers aligned and spinning freely, we too glisten!  All it takes is a small breeze of breath to blow for life to feel effortless. 

I am leading “Fall into Meditation” this month, and meditation is one of the many practices, along with asana (yoga postures), pranayama (breath practice), mantra (chanting) and self-care that keep our pinwheels spinning in the wind.  And they also keep others from ‘off roading’ over us :)

Sparkling,
SARAH

......room for all

Yogis,

I spent my final summer vacation at our beach place in Rehoboth.  For those of you not familiar with Rehoboth, it is a small town on the Delaware shore.  A main street lined with eclectic shops and restaurants take you from the edge of town to the beach.  The beach itself is bordered by a mile long boardwalk complete with small rides, games, ice cream and of course, the famous Thrashers fries.  It is often referred to as “The Nations Summer Capital” being the closest beach to downtown DC. 

But it also has another reference.  The word ‘Rehoboth’ is in the book of Genesis and some have translated it to mean “room for all”.  And so it is……………….

We have owned our cottage there for 15 years now and I have always noticed something unique about the town, but for some reason this year it played out for me in Technicolor. You see the Rehoboth beach and boardwalk offer some of the best people watching around. The diversity brought in on the daily busses is amazing.

Every color is represented.  Every imaginable size and shape. Rich and poor. Infants through the old timers who meet with sneakers on to do their daily walk.  Preppy attire, teenagers with the low riding pants, and the Amish in their humble and modest long dresses and caps, right next to the girls in the tiny shorts. Generous amounts of piercings and tattoos. Languages from across the world spoken as pizza is ordered and  don’t forget the large gay population.  Amidst this sea of humanity are men holding hands and women couples beaming with pride. Throw in a smattering of transgender individuals and you get the picture. 

Yet in my 15 years there I have never seen as much as a harsh word, jostling, shoving, taunting or teasing.  Zero. How is that possible? One may say it is because it is the beach and everyone is having fun, but I would challenge that I have been to other diverse beach towns where once the sun begins to set the energy changes. Or where they have clear police presence to keep the peace, while Rehoboth police, when you do see them are in a beachy looking uniform with no visible weapons other than perhaps a stick. In fact their mode of transportation is most often bikes. 

In a country right now that is expressing such intolerance to anyone ‘not like me’, how refreshing it is to see the clear joy in a gay young man’s face because he has a place where he can be free to be exactly who he is.  Isn’t that what we all want? Shouldn’t that be a basic human right? That there is “room for me”  and for you, and for you, and for you.

Rehoboth has a unique and wonderful energy.  Perhaps it is because it was originally established as a spiritual/religious center by a man who saw it in his dream and set out to find it. Or maybe the energy was always there and that’s what called to him as he slept.  Whatever the origin, let’s all find a way to bottle it and bring it to our workplaces, shopping centers and government.  Because there truly is “room for all”.

Two slices for me please,
SARAH

.....sweeping

Yogis,

Thursday’s yoga practice.  I’m lying on my back.  I’m in bridge pose on the beach house deck when I notice the dead wood in the tree above that watches over me while I practice.  I will have to get to that. Time to call the tree guy.  Some cleaning out is needed!

Two days later tropical storm Hermine blew in bringing with her some gusty winds.  Boom!!  What was that?  As I peer out the back, broken limbs are now scattered on the deck where I once lay.  Mother Nature doing her own housekeeping.  Pruning, thinning and clearing out that which no longer serves her.  No need for the phone call…..just a broom.

At home I have a front porch.  It collects leaves, bugs, spider webs, dust and pine needles.  It too needs cleaning.  So I keep a broom out there.  Often I will go out to  sweep.  Sweeping to one side. Sweeping to the other side.  Methodically moving back and forth until it all looks clear.  Fresh and new.  Out with the old and in with the new.

The next day….it looks like I was never out there. Covered again. The tree and the porch are like our mind.  

The dirt, leaves, dead wood and pine needles are life.  Deadlines, misunderstandings, ailments, traffic and unfulfilled longings.  Shame, an old resentment.  All piling up until we feel unclear.  All taking up space not leaving much room for the new.  In need of a broom.

Wind is Mother Nature’s broom.  The breath is our broom.  The inhale moves everything up to one side.  The exhale moves it down to the other.  Methodically moving it back and forth until everything is gathered up and can move out.  Leaving us free and clear.

Meditation is this sweeping of the mind.  Noticing the dead wood and the dirt that has built up in the hidden corners.  Choosing to sweep those out with breath.  To let them go.  Free and clear after each session so that the new can pour in. 

Mother Nature does this so naturally.  Us…not so much.  She doesn’t hesitate to sweep out what is stagnant (including us if we don’t shape up and start treating her with a little more reverence.)  With a sudden gust of wind, a torrent of water, a blazing fire or a powerful shake she lets things go.  Out with the old and in with the new.

Life builds up.  I sweep it out with breath each day as I sit.

Aaaaahhhhhhh………………..
SARAH