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!  

A householder's guide to Enlightenment

As soon as I opened that dusty old Rubbermaid tub, I knew I had fallen down the rabbit hole. I spent the next 3 days looking at old family photos.  The saying goes, "The days are long but the years are short". It feels like another lifetime and yesterday simultaneously. 

Those long days were so hard.  On a daily basis I would think to myself "damn women's lib!!"  All it did was make my life harder.  I was expected to work full-time AND raise children, AND keep house, AND volunteer at the kids’ school, AND be a good wife, friend, daughter.  On a daily basis I felt like I was juggling balls of fire and more often than not, dropping a few.  Most nights I'd go bed with that nagging feeling in my gut that I was failing.  The photos tell a different story.  

Life in those days was a three-ring circus but we did have fun.  It's always fun at the circus.  My kids grew up with chickens, and dogs, and parrots, and cats.  They always had lots of family around and friends.  We had great adventures and created all sorts of fun crafts.  The house was filled with Disney movies, and singing and lots of playing pretend with baby dolls, super heroes and Legos. There were books, crayons and markers everywhere and an almost constant sound of basketballs.  Riding bikes and climbing trees, trick-or-treating and sleep overs. 

There were also tears, and yelling; lots of yelling. Let's not forget the fighting.  "She's looking at me!!!" was a very common exclamation at our circus.  I missed the memo about the bake sale at school so I was the mom with the donut holes from the 7-Elven but I wasn't the only mom.   I forgot to wash the sleeping bag for daycare.... but I wasn't the only mom.  We were late to school; I was late to work.  There was an incident with a winter coat that landed ME in the principal’s office and eventually to the counselor's office.  (You can read about that on my post titled "My lowest motherhood moment").  

As my kids got older, the circus changed but there was still juggling.  There was still fun and fighting, laughter and tears.  Did I ever tell you about the time that my 12yr old fired the babysitter?  Yes, you read that correctly.  I'm not sure what I was more shocked about; the fact that my 12yr old fired the babysitter or the fact that the babysitter listened to her and went home.   We are quite a cast of characters. 

In those days, I would "go to Yoga" on Wednesday nights.  Most weeks I felt like I was holding my breath until Wednesday when I could breathe.  I would rush home from work, pick up the kids from after care and bring them home.  I'd give them a quick dinner and rush to yoga.  It was 1 hour, once a week that was just for me.  I didn't feel guilty about it at all.  Until, that is, parent-teacher conference with Tayler's kindergarten teacher.   That's when Mrs. Baker informed me that she felt I wasn't giving Tayler enough attention.  She came to that conclusion because Tayler told her that I don't study her alphabet with her.   You see, I was so good at studying that Tayler didn't realize our nightly game of alphabet bingo was actually studying.  When you have children, you live in constant fear about what is going to come out of their mouths.  If you ever need a good laugh, volunteer to be the class room mom in kindergarten. 

There's no doubt in my mind that Yoga made me a better mother.  Not only did yoga/meditation give me the tools I needed to stay calm and present but I believe that the benefits of my practice had a ripple effect on the children.  I remember one day; my son was having a meltdown.  It had been a rough day for all of us.  I could total relate to how he was feeling because I too was on the verge of a meltdown.  Instead, I sat on the floor next to him.  He screamed.... I practiced the Ujjayi breath.  The louder he screamed, the louder I'd make the breath sound.  In between his screams he would look at me; curious. Slowly, he began to match the rhythm of my breath.  Eventually, he crawled into my lap.  We both felt better after that.   

I remember daydreaming about the day I would have more time to practice.  I used to daydream about going to yoga retreats and immersing myself in the "Yoga lifestyle".   I so badly wanted to go to India.  I was convinced that I would never truly be a yogi if I didn't go to India.  I wasted so much time thinking that when my children grow up, I'll be able to "fulfill my dharma".  

 As the saying goes, the days are long but the years are short.  I've been studying and practicing for 27yrs.  I never did make it to India.  I've never gone on a yoga retreat.  I did however manage to take nearly 2,000 hours of yoga teacher training.  I've been blessed with many incredible yoga adventures.  I've met tons of amazing people along this yoga journey.   

I turned 50 this past August.  My children are all grown. No more chauffeuring kids, no more cheering from the bleachers, no more parent-teacher conferences.  I have more time.  This mid-life space is a really interesting space to be in.  I have more time to do all the things I've always dreamt about doing only to find that those things don't seem important anymore.   Looking through the photos, I realized that I've been living my dharma all along.  Raising kind, caring, compassionate, creative children is the most important practice in the world.  Fulfilling my duties as a householder was how I honored God every day.  

The year I got lost

How do I begin this story?  It is after all, a story.  A true one but a story none-the-less.   A defining moment in my life but still, I acknowledge, a story.   

At first I thought the story began 10 months ago when I was attacked in Yoga-land.  However, as I mentioned already, this is a true story and if I'm honest the story began many lifetimes ago.  The "attack" was simply the trigger that sent me into the most recent spiral. 

Three months into the COVID19 crisis I found myself terrified every time my kids went to work that they would contract this potentially deadly disease, and trying to adapt to a virtual life.  Work, teaching, socializing all shifted to staring at a  computer screen for most of my day.   

Then June happened.  My dog, Luna, who I love like my child was having trouble breathing.  I was given 2 options 1) surgery that cost $8,000. (which might as well have been a million dollars) 2) Put her down.  I was devastated.  That was just the beginning.  Thanks to the generosity of my family and friends  I was able to pay for Luna's surgery.  The day of her surgery we had some freak storm that literally lasted all of 5 minutes but caused thousands of dollars in damage.  A huge tree in my backyard came down taking with it my fence and shed and lots of other things including the power lines.  

That night I couldn't sleep.  I didn't know if Luna would survive, I didn't know how I was going to re-pay everyone for the donations.  My virtual life came to a screeching halt without electricity. Luckily,  I was able to charge my phone in the car since I was waiting for an update on Luna. She wasn't doing as well as we had hoped after the surgery.   At 2am I decided to check my emails to distract myself for a while. 

It was at that moment, in the middle of this traumatic day that a "trauma informed" yoga teacher decided to attack me.  You see, it was June 2020 and the United States was on fire.  There was a deadly pandemic raging, there was political and civil unrest.  It was in the middle of this traumatic moment in my life that I was told that I hadn't done my part for social justice.  I was attacked for not being sensitive to the needs of  people who have experienced trauma.   It was also brought to my attention that I was contributing to the "cultural appropriation" of  yoga.  

At first, I tried to defend myself.  Then I got angry and decided to back away from yoga, social media, and basically everything and everyone that wasn't required or my family.  Then the downward spiral began to speed up.  Self-doubt set in and I started to think maybe she was right.  Maybe I am a terrible person.  Maybe I am not good enough.  Maybe I'm not doing enough. Maybe I am contributing to the suffering of others.   Once the spiral of negative self talk gets going it's like a runaway train.  

I defended myself over and over, I got angry, then I got to work.  I needed to improve myself.  I read books, watched videos, listened to podcasts.  The more I learned the more confused I became.  That's when it dawned on me.  Maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.  I'm not a terrible person.  I am good enough.  I am not contributing to the cultural appropriation of yoga.   I do care deeply about social justice.  

I will continue the practice of self-reflection and I will continue to work on self improvement.  What I won't do anymore is defend myself or explain myself.  I ask that you judge me on your own personal experience with me and not by the words of others.   

I have one more thing to ask of you.  Remember that everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Therefore, before you make the choice to verbally attack someone consider the possibility that your words may trigger that person back into self-destructive habits. 

"Trauma informed" means to recognize that trauma comes in many forms and in order to truly offer "trauma informed yoga" means that you are kind, gentle, and compassionate with everyone.  Before you make the choice to verbally attack someone ask yourself how would I speak to this person if I knew they were a victim of years of verbal abuse in the past? 

  The first rule of yoga is  AHIMSA.... Do no harm. 

What does Basketball have to do with Yoga?!

 Every other Thursday I pay bills.  Every month, when I pay the mortgage I congratulate myself for making it through another month.  More often then not I say to myself (and to anyone who happens to be near me at the time), "I really feel like someone should throw confetti when I pay the mortgage."  I actually mean it. Well, the other day my daughter did just that! She came home with a plastic gun that shot out confetti!   Tonight, while I was sweeping up the confetti I was reminded of something my teacher said many years ago.  

Let me set the scene for this story.  I rushed home from work to make dinner for my family and help with homework. I gather myself up and drive an hour to visit my teacher at his house.  I had been daydreaming about spending time talking about Yoga with Ed.  In those days my life was filled with work and kids and household chores so the thought of spending a couple of hours immersed in Yoga was heaven. 

Anyway, when I get there he's watching a basketball game.  I'm not going to lie, I was disappointed. I wanted to learn about Yoga and Life.  Basketball was a constant in my house in those days.  My daughter played for school,  all the neighborhood kids played on our net outside, it was always on TV or constantly being talked about.  I just wanted to talk to an adult about Yoga and Life!

At one point, he says "you know, Basketball is very much like life." I wasn't convinced but I was listening.   He continued, "If you miss a shot and you sit under the basket crying about it the game is still going on at the other end of the court without you and if you make the shot and stand under the basket patting yourself on the back, you're missing the game that's going on at the other end of the court without you."  

Turns out basketball, like paying bills, is a lesson in working without attachment to the fruits of your labor.   We work hard for the sake of working hard and offer it all up in service to God.  Life, like basketball moves so fast.  Don't waste too much time worrying about the failures or boasting about your accomplishments.  The point of life is to stay in the game. Keep working, keep moving and for the love of God enjoy it. 

The other life lesson I learned that night is that when we keep our minds and hearts open the world becomes our classroom and every moment of this crazy life is an opportunity to learn something. Who knew a basketball game was teaching me one of the principle lessons of the Bhagavad Gita? 

"You have the right to work, but never to the fruit of work. You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor should you long for inaction. Perform work in this world, Arjuna, as a man established within himself - without selfish attachments, and alike in success and defeat.” 

I'm not saying you shouldn't enjoy the accomplishments.  I'm just saying don't spend too much time patting yourself on the back.  Throw the confetti if that will make you happy. Just remember that tomorrow you'll have to clean it up and then get back to work so you can pay the mortgage next month and the game continues. 

Where do you stand?

Witnessing this moment in our country's history I osculate between horror and hope.  

Story after story of systemic racism breaks my heart daily.

Peaceful protests - arms linked in solidarity fill me with hope.

People I love and respect defending and justifying violence disgusts me. 

People I love and respect pledging to protect and support our marginalized brothers and sisters inspires me. 

Speeches that vomit hatred for another in the name of religion are vile. 

Actions of love, respect and service to another need no public declaration - God is there. 

I lose faith in humanity when I see someone being treated less than human. 

The resilience of the human spirit gives me strength and courage to keep extending my hand in service. 

The roots of hatred are so deep. It's overwhelming. 

It feels like we're digging up the roots of an ancient oak tree with a plastic beach shovel. 

But the mighty oak tree started as infinite potential stored in a tiny acorn.  

In this moment, we hold in our hands the same infinite potential for love and mutual respect. 

Like the tiny acorn, we are right now buried in darkness. We must allow ourselves to soften, be broken open, and continue to reach for light. 

Witnessing this moment in our country's history begs the question....What side of history do you want to be on?   Are you contributing to the horror or the hope?  How does your choice feel? 

Our shared belief

Those of you who know me know that I have very strong opinions.  I even joke about my strong opinions on things that don't fit neatly into one of my mentally constructed boxes.  My opinions and my values are very clear to me.  Things are either right or wrong, up or down, hot or cold, good or bad.... I could go on but you get the picture.

The practice of  acknowledging and examining my strongly held beliefs has been daunting and difficult but imperative.  Each day, I strive to be a better version of myself than I was the day before.  That requires I take a good hard look at my thoughts and beliefs.  The beauty of this bat-shit crazy human life is that we have the ability to evolve and grow.  It's not an easy process but nothing worth doing is ever easy.

It's overwhelming to see all the injustice and evil in the world.  The problems seem insurmountable.
I often times feel like I'm losing faith in humanity.  How can there be so much evil in this world?  I honestly, don't understand.  My heart breaks day after day. I feel powerless.

Watching the video of a cop murdering a handcuffed black man on the street was horrifying.  There's no doubt that what we all witnessed in that video was evil.   That's clear.  What's not clear to me is how anyone can defend the man who murdered George Floyd.  What's not clear to me is how the other cops can stand there and do nothing.  I can't even find the words to express the rage and sadness that I feel that this happened AGAIN. 

I have a teenage son. He's 17 years old and believes he's invincible as most teenage boys do. Whenever he leaves the house I worry as most mothers do. What I can't stop thinking about is the terror a mother of a black child must feel every time her child leaves the house.  When I look at my children I see your children too. 

The rage and sadness I'm feeling today is making it difficult for me to find the words so please forgive me as I must speak bluntly.  Until we all examine our belief that one life is more valuable than another NONE of our children are safe from evil.  Until we look at each other and see ourselves NONE of us are safe from evil.   We cannot heal the world around us and right the injustices until we acknowledge and examine that strongly held belief that "WE" are more valuable than "THEM". 

I don't give a damn what color you are, what religion you are, what political party you align yourself with, I don't give a damn whether you are straight or gay or both.  I don't give a damn how much money you have or how educated you are.  WE ARE THEM!! WE ARE ALL HUMAN BEINGS!!! 

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PEOPLE!!! WAKE THE FUCK UP!!

We must hold each other and ourselves accountable for not only our actions but the subtle underlying beliefs that contribute to the injustices in the world around us.  The practice of self-inquiry may show you some belief that you weren't even conscious of.  It may show you a belief that you are ashamed of or feel guilty about.  It may be a belief that is really hard to look at.  What matters now is acknowledging and taking responsibility.  We all have the ability to evolve and grow or to stick our heads in the sand and pretend that we aren't part of the problem.  The choice is yours. 

I am you and you are me. This must become our shared belief.