What's a dad?

I don't really like "hallmark" holidays.  The older I get the less I care about holidays in general.  If you need Hallmark to remind you to be kind to your loved ones you probably are going to need more than an overpriced card.   Anyway, today is Father's Day.  I grew up without a father so I never really gave Father's day much thought so imagine my surprise when I realized that I've been thinking about it quite a bit the last few days. 

When my kids were growing up, their father would spend Father's day playing softball with a bunch of random guys.  Most of the dads I knew either worked all the time or were just not involved in the day to day lives of their kids.  Some were there for the big moments like graduations, weddings, or whatever but not for the day to day things like dinner, baths, homework. 

I'm not gonna lie, it took a minute for my brain to adjust when my grandbabies were born.  Their dads were involved in their care from day 1.  Not because they were required to but because they actually wanted to be involved.  It took me some time to get used to having to share baby snuggles with their dads.  I've said it before and I'll say it again.  I could not have asked for better dads for my grandchildren.   

Watching these guys become dads has been such a blessing.  In the grand scheme of life it's the little things that really matter most.  It's the way they show up for their kids everyday that makes them a dad.  Knowing how they like their eggs, taking them out when you need to run to the store even though it takes longer.  Participating in the bedtime routine.  Changing diapers without having to be asked.  Knowing the kids well enough to know which cry is tired and which is hungry.    

All these qualities are normal and not even noteworthy for most people but for me, they are remarkable.   I never witnessed these qualities in a dad before.  Anyone can be a FATHER but not everyone is a DAD.   A dad is someone who shows up for you not only in the big moments but in the small moments because it's the millions of small moments that make up your life.  

Dads are doing the work of raising children that feel loved, seen and cared for everyday not just on "Father's Day".   Dads focus on what they can do for their kids instead of what their kids owe them.   Dads sometimes step up and care for kids that aren't even their own (including adult kids).  Dad care about their children's emotional as well as physical well-being.

The older I get the less I care about hallmark holidays.  What I do care about are the people who are doing the hard work of caring for others both big and small.  I don't care about who's around the Christmas dinner table.  What I care about is being present for the millions of small moments that make up my life.  I'm grateful to men who have shown me what a dad really is.  

A nonna's prayer for peace

"All that evil needs to succeed is for good people to stand by and do nothing."  

I feel terrified that evil is succeeding, but I don't know what I can do to stop it.  I want a better world for my grandchildren.   They deserve a better world.  When they grow up and learn about this moment in history, what will they think? What will I tell them when they ask why didn't anyone do anything? 

When I was young and learned about the Holocaust, that's the question I asked.  Why didn't anyone do anything?  How could such atrocities happen?  How could people be so cruel? I didn't understand how one evil man convinced so many people to follow and obey.  I couldn't comprehend how a person can commit such evil acts against another human being. 

The increasing level of cruelty that we have been experiencing in this country and around the world feels very much like a repeat of history.  Once again, I'm struggling to comprehend how a person can commit such atrocities against another human being.  Are some people simply born evil or is it a learned behavior?  There's no doubt that there is something fundamentally wrong with a person who can murder someone in cold blood.  What I find even more heinous and dangerous are the people who can stand by and watch and feel nothing. 

I cannot even put into words how utterly disgusted I am with the current state of our country.  I cannot fathom how anyone with a shred of decency can condone the cruel and evil actions of this administration.  I chalked up Trump's first term to people not knowing how bad he would be.  The fact that he was re-elected makes no sense to me at all.  Clearly, people have lost their ever-loving minds, or more likely, their humanity.  Even more likely, it was rigged.  That's the only logical explanation.  

How do we engage in the world and not let it consume us?   I don't want to stand by and do nothing, but I also don't want to add to the fuel that is keeping this dumpster fire burning.  It's heartbreaking to see people turning against each other all in the name of politics.  While we are distracted fighting with each other, evil is succeeding.  

In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King:  "Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."  How do we remind each other of that AND hold each other accountable for our actions?   Hate is such a heavy burden to carry but how do we love someone who has opposing views that are so clearly cruel? 

I was hoping that by the time I got to this point in my rant that I would have some clear path forward but I don't. Tonight, what I feel is angry, sad, and honestly disappointed. I see people on Facebook and Instagram posting make up tutorials and I want to scream at them "The world is on fire who the hell cares about your stupid makeup!"  I don't, obviously... I acknowledge the fact that not everyone is in a place in their life where they can take an active role in politics.  

I know that when I was in the trenches, working full-time, raising children, struggling financially and trying to hold together a dysfunctional marriage the last thing I was thinking about was politics.  It took every ounce of energy I had just to get through the day.  Today, I have space in my life to be more aware and engaged in the world around me.  

So, you young parents stay focused on the important work of raising kind, compassionate, loving children. That's the love that will drive out the hate.  We will need them to heal this broken world when they grow up.  In the meantime, those of us who can will take up the fight until you are done raising babies and can stand up and fight alongside us.  

I won't pretend that I have any answers. I don't know how to solve the huge problems that plague our world.  I have no desire to spew some yoga babble about how everything is perfect, and we need to trust in the universe that everything is as it should be.  Sorry... That's BS.   

Yes, we can trust in the universe, AND we can take action for the greater good.  Durga didn't sit on her lion and chant mantras while the demon terrorized the three worlds.  She drew her sword and leaped into action.  

Now, someone please tell me what to do.  I'm calling my representatives, sending postcards, boycotting many corporations that support this administration, giving to charity, and helping whenever the opportunity presents itself.  What else can I be doing?  What are you, good people, doing to ensure that evil doesn't succeed? 

My teacher, Ed

When I heard the news of Ed's passing I think I was in shock.  I knew he wasn't well but I still wasn't prepared for this news.   The guilt I feel for not participating in his care at the end weighs heavy on my heart.   I should have made time to go visit him.  Thankfully, I told him many times over the years how much I loved him and how important he was to me.  I'll have to hold on to that while I carry this guilt. 

I first met Ed at Yoga on Main in 2007.  I was convinced he was my guru even though he wanted no parts of that!  I looked up to him as my teacher and spiritual guide for many years.  He wasn't an easy teacher. Truth be told, he mostly ignored me at first.  He rarely answered my questions.  It took years for him to take me serious as a student.  Even then he was harsh with me.  His harshness only made me work harder for his approval.  I'll never forget the feeling of getting a star on my Ayurveda homework with a little note "Great work".   I felt like I won the lottery!  I still have that homework assignment.  

When I asked him if he would be willing to lead a study group on the Upanishads instead of an answer he gave me a challenge.  "You find 5 people interested and I'll do it." I accepted the challenge and started recruiting. At first I was literally bribing my friends with dinner at my house if they would go to Ed's for the study group.  Every month I was practically dragging people off the street so that I'd have 5 people to attend the study group.   Eventually, a small group of serious students would consistently show up, month after month and the group grew. 

The hours we spent at Ed's little cabin in the woods were magical.  The wood stove and the giant pot of homemade chai kept us warm while we watched the birds and listened to Ed's stories.  Sometimes we would roll our eyes when he would recount the same story for the 100th time with new embellishments every time he told the story.  Still, we knew how lucky we were to be there.  It felt like church for us.  It was a sacred space filled with years of spiritual practices that the energy was palpable.  After a while, someone else took over organizing the study group.  Most of the students from the original group moved on.  I continued to attend for a long time but then... I too, stopped attending.  At first, the schedule didn't work for me and then I felt disconnected from the group.  

I have so many Ed stories rolling around in my head right now.  I remember one night after yoga teacher training Ed and I were walking to our cars.  He was telling me that he was doing some chores at his house and he got hurt. It made him worry that if anything happened to him no one would even know because he was alone in middle of the woods.  When I asked him what I could do to help him he said "find me a nice lady."  Instead, we compromised.  I committed to checking in with him every day to make sure he was ok.  He happily agree.  Each day I would either call, or email him.   This went on for several years.  Some days he would exchange some pleasantries and other days just a simple "OK" to my question "how are you doing today?".   There came a point when he had a new group of students that he was interacting with on a regular basis and we agreed that I no longer needed to check on him daily. I'm so grateful to this group of students who have been caring for him until the end.   

Once, when Ed learned that I was teaching a workshop on Sadhana he pushed a book into my hands and said "If you're going to be teaching Sadhana you should at least know something about it".  This was one of the times when his harshness really hurt.  However, another student pointed out that he must trust me if he was willing to loan me one of his books.  I was so nervous that something would happen to the  book during the month I had it that I carried it around in a ziplock bag.  I would only read it at the dining room table with a clean tablecloth.  It was at the dining room table that the front cover of the book fell off!!  I was horrified! After hyper-ventilating for an hour I frantically searched the internet to find a replacement.  The following month when I returned Ed's book, still in the ziplock bag, I explained what happened.  I offered him both the original and the replacement copy, practically in tears.  He grabbed the original and brushed it off saying "That happens with books from India all the time".   It was only after I had read the book that he  would engage in a serious conversation with me about Sadhana.  

I could fill a book with stories about Ed.  Maybe I'll write a series of posts to share some of my favorite stories.  I'll call it "Ed says".   I'll end this post with the story of the last time I was with Ed before he started to decline.  He invited me to teach his Ayurveda students a class on Ayurveda and Yoga.  I was scheduled to teach for 2 hours. I was so nervous teaching in front of him but once I began I found my rhythm and the time flew by.  During the break he came over to me and told me that I did a fantastic job and he was impressed with the material I had prepared. So much so that he let me teach the rest of the class that day.  The star on my homework felt like winning the lottery.  Receiving positive feedback on my teaching Ayurvedic yoga felt like.... I don't know.  I can't find the words to describe how that felt.  Honestly, it felt like he finally saw me as a serious student.  

When I was leaving after that class he told me I was a good teacher. As I hugged him good-bye I told him that it was because I had good teachers like him that I am able to be a good teacher.   My heart is broken that we didn't have more time together but I know that I was blessed to have spent so many hours seated at the foot of my guru.  I will honor his memory by continuing to share the teachings I learned from him.  

Oh... one more story,   I was trying to figure out why I felt such a strong connection to a teacher that I didn't know very well.  Ed said to me "You may not have known her very well in this lifetime but there's no doubt that we have all done this dance together in another lifetime."   The thought of sharing another lifetime with Ed as my teacher gives me some comfort tonight.  I wonder if he'll be telling the same stories in the next life?? 

One day I'll tell you about the time I brought Ed the soup he requested when he was sick.   That was another time when his harshness hurt.  He could be such a cranky old man at times but I loved him and my life is infinitely better for having had him as my teacher. 

 Until we meet again.... 

What would you say to your 19-year-old self?

 

When I was 19 years old I didn't know a damn thing about life.  I certainly didn't know a damn thing about myself (I just didn't know that at the time).   Today, at an age much older than 19 I sat down with this stack of journals and read the thoughts of my 19-year-old self.  

This particular stack of journals I started when my first child was born.  I had intended to write to my children in them and present them to my kids when they had their own children.  That's your first clue of how little I actually knew about life; to think that I would have the time and energy for such things.  I did manage to keep writing for about five years.  This is impressive when you consider I was working full time and was essentially the sole caregiver for my babies.  But I digress....

It was fun to read how excited I was at each milestone, first smile from baby, first tooth, first step.  It was hard to read how scared and sad I was so much of the time.  I wasted so much energy worrying.  Truth be told I still struggle with worry sometimes.  Some entries were so boring...." today we went for a walk and picked dandelions.  Others were about important events both in the world and in our family.  Page after page there's an undertone of both hopefulness and sadness.   I thought about burning these books so many times.  I had abandoned the idea of giving them to my kids long ago.   After all, these are my stories and my insecurities that will do them no good.

In one of the early entries, I wrote that I hoped my kids would one day read the journals and get to know me.  In those days, I wasn't comfortable opening up about how I felt or what I thought.  Honestly, even in the journals I was making excuses for other people's bad behavior and never fully expressing how I really felt.  I suppose I felt like I had to censor some things since my intention was to one day give the journals to the kids.  There was a twinge of sadness at the thought that my kids would need to read my journals in order to get to know the real me.  I've since learned that kids are much more perceptive than we give them credit for.  

The decision to read them before I burned them was a good one.  It's spring, which always has an air of hopefulness.  The windows are open and the gentle breeze carries in the sweet smell of the Lilac while I read.  A few things stood out to me.  A big one is that although I have changed tremendously since I wrote those words some parts of me have stayed the same.  My heart's desire has always been to create a life where my children grow up knowing that they are loved.  I wrote often about hoping to create a peaceful, simple life.  I do believe I've succeeded in both.  

Life has taken so many unexpected turns.  Some joyful and some sorrowful but each designed to bring me to this moment. I admit that the road to get here was not the road I intended to travel but nevertheless, I have arrived at the life that my 19-year-old self hoped for.   Sitting here, listening to the birds chirping while my children share their own experiences and insecurities with me as they navigate their way through the early years of motherhood, I feel a great sense of contentment.   

I've learned so much about myself over the years and if I could go back and talk to that 19-year-old girl I would tell her that the road ahead is bumpy and sometimes scary but that she is stronger and braver than she knows.  I would tell her that as long as she follows her heart every step of the way life will be more beautiful than she ever hoped for. 

What would you tell your 19-year-old self?

It dawned on me this morning.

I went out early this morning at 6am to get some fresh fruit and yogurt. The air was cool and clear for a Sunday in July.  When I got home I sat down at the dining room table to drink my coffee.  That's when it dawned on me.  I was sitting looking at my beautiful plants and at the box of craft supplies.  I had come full circle.  I've been spending time gardening, crafting, and entertaining.   I've been feeling at peace with the pace of life.   

I wondered what came first.  Was it the peace and contentment that brought me back to doing the things that I loved or was doing the things I loved bringing me the feeling of peace and contentment?  Why do we stop doing things that bring us joy?  

Either way, gratitude is the overwhelming feeling today. I'm grateful that I had the courage to make the hard decisions which lead me to this point in my life.  Contrast always catches my eye when I look at artwork or nature.  Today, contrast is catching my attention as I appreciate the sweetness of this present moment when I remember the stress and tension that used to be my life.  Sure, I still have stress, tension, and challenges.  The difference now is that those are only moments and not pervading my whole life. 

Tell me, what brings you joy?  Have you experienced moments of peace and contentment? What were you doing when you experienced those moments?  What is it that you are grateful for today?  

Message from the garden

 

"Now I know why not everyone has a garden, it's hard work" This was Jake's observation this morning while helping me in the garden.  It is hard work but honestly, what isn't these days?  

I'm an amateur gardener.  I dig a hole, plant something, and hope for the best.  That's probably not the best technique but I tend to learn better by actually doing whatever I'm trying to learn.  Each year I learn more and more.  Some years are plentiful and others not so much.  Some problems are in my control, like learning to prune the tomato plant and fig tree.  Other things are out of my control, the critters and the weather for example.  

The first couple rows of beans I had planted early in the season weren't looking so good.  I debated about pulling them out and starting over.  This morning I had to add more string to support them!  They not only bounced back, but they are thriving.

The same thing happened with the Basil plant that was in my kitchen window.  Most of it was dead and while I was taking it to the trash can I noticed one teeny tiny shoot on one of the stems.  Instead of throwing it out I cut away all the dead parts and planted the stem with the tiny shoot in fresh soil and took it outside.  Today I needed to re-pot it in a bigger container.  

I moved on to pulling weeds from the fire pit area.  Last year we put down cardboard, then a layer of weed blocker, and topped the entire area with rocks.  Yet, I still need to pull weeds from the area which got me thinking about resiliency.  

Resilience (from the Cambridge dictionary) means the ability to be happy, successful, etc. again after something difficult or bad has happened.  It also says the ability of a substance to return to its usual shape after being bent, stretched, or pressed.  

While some weeds came out fairly easily, others had much deeper, stronger roots.  Those weeds I left alone.  I figured, after all they went through (cardboard, weed blocker, rocks) their resiliency earned them the right to be there.  These persistent weeds, with their deep, strong roots, were reflecting back to me my own resilience and the resiliency of all women in this country.  Why are there still those who fail to see that we have earned our rights? 

I've experienced difficult and even bad things, I've been bent, stretched, and pressed in so many areas of my life.  Today, I'm sweaty, achy, and exhausted but my roots are deep, I have a support system and I've earned the right to be here.  At times I feel like a teeny tiny shoot holding on and reaching for the sunshine.  At times, I'm tired and ragged.  Still, like the persistent plants in my garden with their strong roots, I continue to grow.  Sometimes, it's not the plant but the environment that needs changing in order for it to blossom.   

Some gardens grow in nice, neat rows, others grow wild and untamed.  Both are beautiful and both can be bountiful.  One isn't better than the other.  The choice of neat and tidy or wild and untamed is up to the gardener.  How we each chose to live our lives is up to us.  

Like most women in this country I have been contemplating the ramifications of the Supreme court's decision to overturn Roe v Wade.  Although I personally am against abortion for me I respect the rights of each woman to make the decision that she feels is best for her and her situation.  Life, after all, it not always neat and tidy.  Sometimes things outside of our control happen and life becomes messy.  Who can presume to know what's best for someone else? 

What came to me as I was pulling weeds is that it may take some time to gather our energy and start the arduous journey of pushing up, once again, through all the barriers put in place to keep us down.  The work women have been doing for decades has strengthened our roots so that we can continue to grow.  We have earned the right to bodily autonomy through our strength, resiliency and persistence.  We can't give up now.  

If you prefer a nice, tidy garden where everything is under your control then by all means grow that type of garden at your home.  If you prefer your garden wild and untamed then by all means grow that type of garden at your home. There is enough room in the world for both.  

 Imagine if you tried to go into your neighbor's garden and decided that your way of gardening is the only way and started implementing your ideas in their garden.  You might think that's ok because you truly believe your way is the right way.   Would you be okay with your neighbor coming into YOUR garden and implementing their ways in your garden?  After all, they too feel their way is truly the right way.  

Remember, at the end of the day, the only garden you have the right to tend to is your own.  If you want to grow Swiss Chard in your garden... Go for it.  But please don't tell me what to grow in my garden.  Honestly, if we all focused on tending to our own gardens we'd be to tired to care what the neighbors are doing in theirs.  

 

  

Nothing lasts forever, not even YOM

A musician friend once told me that when you're making music the pauses between the notes are just as important as the notes themselves.  The importance of pauses has become a recurring theme for me.  Typically, my motto is to simply plow through to the next task.  It took years for me to realize the value of simply pausing and waiting until the next step becomes clear. 

Right now, at this moment, the next task isn't straightforward.   I thought that by the time I got to this day I would have a clear path forward.  That hasn't happened.  All I know for sure is that this weekend I will be teaching my final classes at Yoga on Main.  

Truth be told, I thought Yoga on Main was a magical place that would go on forever.  I never thought the day would come when Yoga on Main no longer existed.  My heart is heavy today.  I know that yoga teaches us non-attachment.  I know we learned that everything is temporary.  I know that it's the teachings that are magical and not the structure that we call "Yoga on Main" still, I'm only human and my heart feels heavy.  

There are no words to adequately express the love and gratitude that I feel for all the teachers that I've studied with over the years, to name a few:  Ed Zadlo, Shiva Das, Betheyla, Paula Tepedino, Shakti Durgaya, Christopher Burns and so many more.  I'm grateful to Jessica Golden for entrusting me to be her sidekick as we did our best to navigate the challenges that came with the running of a yoga studio through a global pandemic, civil unrest and so much more.  We could write a book about our adventures.  It would surely be a bestseller, filled with drama and comedy! 

I can truly say that each person I met at Yoga on Main has had a lasting impact on my life, both teachers and students.  

There were challenges too, HOLY HELL were there challenges over the years!  I came face to face with some pretty big egos, including my own.  Those challenges taught me valuable lessons but the blessings and friendships far outweighed the difficulties.   

I can honestly say that I am not the same person I was when I first walked in the doors of Yoga on Main. I could never have imagined the wild ride that I would be on for the last 15 years.  I have shared my darkest days and my best days with the YOM community and it's the community that I will miss most of all.  I will miss the chai and chats that were the norm after yoga class.  

When it became clear that the time had arrived to say goodbye my first thought was that I will plow through and continue to teach yoga on zoom.  When we faced a global pandemic I was grateful for zoom.  It turned out to be a great way for us to stay connected and to continue to practice together.  I was grateful when I thought it would only be for a few months.   It was convenient to not have to drive 45 minutes and have to circle the block 28 times to find parking.  It wasn't so convenient in so many other ways.  Virtual hugs cannot compare to Shiva Das' famous hugs. 

Anyway, the time has come.  I do not have a clear path in front of me. What I do know for sure is that a pause is required.  For the last 7 or 8 years, I have worked 2 or 3 jobs at a time.   Working 7 days a week.  It was necessary but exhausting.  There have been many huge changes in my life as well these last few years.  Changes that I haven't fully processed yet. 

I feel a great sense of loyalty and responsibility toward the Yoga on Main community which is why the decision to take a pause from teaching weekly yoga classes was so difficult.  In order for me to continue offering yoga authentically, from my heart, I need to take time to reflect and contemplate how I want to be of service in the future. 

My intention is to take the summer off from teaching.  I want to focus more on my personal sadhana, work in my garden, finish editing my memoir, and welcome my newest granddaughter into the world at the end of the summer.  

My hope is that by the fall the path forward will become more clear to me.  Until then "may the long time sun shine upon you, all love surround you, and the pure light within you, guide your way on".  

Om Namaha Shiva!