Believing

Good morning!  It seems like I feel the same way every Monday morning during this experience … that I just can’t believe how much has transpired over one weekend.  And every week that feeling seems to exponentially grow.  On Fridays when I think back to Monday, it lately feels like weeks have passed in that four days.
This weekend, just like the last four, was packed with emotion and an enormously wide range of feelings.  You know those toys we grew up with, they are still around, the little paddle with the rubber band connecting the little red rubber ball, and you try to hit the ball over and over and it usually wildly flies around?  We actually have one in our little toy box that always awaits our sweet little nieces, Zoe and Ashlyn, when they visit, a simple little bounceback.   Well, that’s what I felt like this weekend, my emotions being yanked in every which direction.  All good in the end, but it’s a little like being wrung out.
When I wake up these mornings, my mind is like my sweet Little Cat (that’s actually her name, we got creative) who just sits there staring at me waiting for me to wake up, licking me occasionally hoping I will rouse.  From my first wakeful moments, my mind is active and seems to have been impatiently waiting for me so that we can replay all the moments that made up another amazing week, thinking plotting planning scheming dreaming about whether I might really be able to make this idea of becoming a yoga teacher work, chronicling and thinking through the changes taking place in me, both physically and mentally, and of course, already starting to hear in my head what I want to write about to you this week.  Six weeks ago I was pushing snooze and then 20 minutes later dragging myself a bit grumpily down the hall to start my job on the phones at 6:00 every morning.  Don’t really need that snooze button these days.  By 6:00 I’ve been awake for some time and my mind has been contentedly sorting, and when I finally make it to the phone at 6:00 there is no longer any room for grumpy.  That’s a pretty amazing transformation in five weeks.
Talk about taking a left turn and venturing down a new path.  A couple of thoughts are resonating with me this morning (they are working hard to make their way through all the other thoughts ping ponging off the walls of my brain).  The first one is just a passing comment the teacher made at the beginning of the class.  “You can all be at a very different place in your life in six weeks.”  It doesn’t sound like much, and I actually overlooked it myself.  But one of my classmates brought it back up to me later and made me think about the enormity of the statement, but more importantly the reality of that statement.  And what I just wrote in my prior paragraph seems to validate my teacher’s claim.
I know I’ve been saying this throughout my blog, but the realization keeps surprising me over and over again, each time as if it’s a completely new concept.  I have the power to change myself any time I choose.  And timelines will always be different depending on what’s on my plate, but that is really an incredible power I possess and underuse.  It’s very easy to get inundated with life, right?  And there are going to be times when making a change can just seem impossible, and maybe that means I have to be patient and wait for the time when I can take that turn.  But even the planning and the dreaming are still very important steps down the path.
The second thought I am just shaking my head about, in a good way, is what I was talking about last week, the universe supporting us, even when we can’t see it at the time.  This weekend, and yesterday in particular, I began to truly believe that I will be a yoga teacher, and that may sound strange since I’m in a yoga teacher training class and telling all my readers about it.  But all that was required to get into that class was taking that leap of faith and writing a check.  It did not require a belief in myself, nor did writing this blog.  It required only a dream and some courage.
These stages of belief as I’m starting to think of them unfold slowly.  Every week I venture further and further toward that belief.  At the close of this weekend, I saw a vision of an amazing yoga teacher through the mist, and she looks an awful lot like me.  Six weeks ago I would have been a little embarrassed to even say that to Rick, and now I’m blogging about it.  THAT is a lot to be thankful for, and it just makes me shake my head and cry  (one of these days we will talk in depth about crying, that’s a topic for a whole blog or twenty in my case).
So back to the universe supporting us, seeing it in hindsight … this morning feeling a high from the weekend and enjoying the confidence I’m feeling in my plan, I thought back to last year when my mom was so ill, and my future at work was hanging in the balance.  Just a quick explanation, our company was bought by another, our team was offered positions, but it would have required I move to another state, so I declined that offer, and decided I would have to try to find some other position within the new company.  Not really what I wanted to do, but what I thought I should do.
What I WANTED to do was write (a book, possibly a blog) and somewhere along the line I started telling Rick I wanted to be a yoga teacher.  Did I believe I could do either?  That’s an interesting question to answer, but in hindsight, maybe not.  But I certainly spent time dreaming about it and talking to Rick about it.
And the universe (of course) sent my angels.  I remember one day meeting one of my co-workers, Keana, over in Benicia for a glass of wine.  It was a beautiful day overlooking the bay, and we sat at one of the tables outside of the little restaurant drowning our sorrows, so to speak, about the end of Virgin America.  Coincidentally???? right next to us were two people who we ended up having a great time with.  They heard us talking about Virgin America, and they chimed in saying how much they loved flying Virgin, and next thing you know we are all talking about our jobs, and life.  Well, coincidentally what do you think the fellows’ job was?  He was a motivator at the company he worked for, and by the time we left, he was high-fiving me telling me I had better not settle and that I needed to pursue my dreams, that it was my time, and the universe had given me a personal invitation by eliminating my job.  Seriously, a jovial genuinely nice guy, anyone around us heard our banter.  It was great fun, and I left flying high, ready to make it happen.
That was about 2 years ago.  In the ensuing two years, I did hire someone to help me move toward my writing dream and have put many hours towards a book that I plan to one day publish.  But there were many roadblocks along the way, so I speak from experience when I say, sometimes it’s just not the right time, but I never lost sight of my dream.
And then, completely not listening to my inner voice, and forgetting the sage advice of the guy in Benicia, I applied for a job within the company that I knew in my heart of hearts I probably wouldn’t like.  And trust me, had I gotten that job, I would NOT have started this blog.  I would NOT have taken this teacher training class.  I would have been floating around in the waters of discontent, getting by, and I’m sure, still dreaming.
I really should have gotten that job, it was a no brainer.  I walked out of the interview thinking “I’ve got this,” ignoring the fact that I wasn’t really all that happy about it.  A few days later, I sat by my mother’s bedside.  She had a long hard road at the end, and this particular day I felt she might be leaving (in fact, she rallied after that a few times) but this day I was actually afraid to leave her room.  My phone rang and I realized from the number that it was a call about my interview.  I was in a state anyway that day, feeling so overwhelmed with my mom’s condition, really in a fog.  I stood by the little window at the end of the hall expecting to hear, congratulations, when can you start.  Instead the woman was babbling on thanking me for applying and interviewing …  I think because I was in such a fog it all seemed to go in slow motion … but as I began to clear my mind I realized she was apologizing that I had not gotten the job, but she would encourage me to apply again.  I thanked her (not really sure why, but at least I didn’t apologize, ugh) and as I hung up, I knew instantly that even though my pride was a little hurt, what I was actually feeling at that moment was relief and joy, because the universe had just said, “wait a minute, little buckaroo, not so fast, what about your true desires?”  She (I like to call the universe She, even though I think of God as a He, interesting) had given me a get out of jail card this once, turned me around, and patted me on the butt telling me to “get along little doggie.”  I was free, I had done my responsible duty to get that job, and they did not want me.  All I had to do was face those few embarrassing moments when I had to tell coworkers and friends and family that I didn’t get it, and then I got to move toward toward what I really wanted to do.
Even with my belief system fully in tact when it comes to manifesting, I still did not manage to do this on my own.  I needed that assistance from up above.
I will share what I ended with a few blogs ago.  “Any arbitrary turning along the way and I would be elsewhere.”
This morning I feel beyond blessed not to be elsewhere.
It’s like I said two posts ago, manifesting, you get to leave it up to the universe to figure it out, because in many cases, what you plan or do might even be counter-productive to getting what you want.   I’m believing these days, and trusting, and oh, what an amazing feeling it is.
I am full.  I am content.  I am thankful for all of you who follow and dream with me.  Whether I ever hear about your quest, know that I don’t even need to, I will always be sending my positive thoughts your way.  It takes a village, right?  Be back soon.
Namaste

Goodbyes

As I near the end of week five of my six-week course, I am flooded with conflicting feelings.  That’s typical of life in general, I guess.  On the one hand, I truly can’t wait to spend a leisurely weekend with Rick, sleeping until my body decides it’s time to wake up, working in our yard, planning a great dinner in or out, either way, running errands, such simple pleasures that I have truly missed these last four weeks. Even last weekend heading out, knowing the weekend would be great fun because of the sailing trip, I still yearned to stay home.  I guess that might just be the definition of lucky, right?

On the other hand, I have come to feel so much for the members of the group and it makes me sad to think our time, at least in this experience, will be coming to an end.  I’m sure I will share more about that in the next two weeks.  But I can already feel that tightening around my heart which I recognize only too well as sorrow.

I have never been good at goodbyes.  What’s good about goodbye when you love someone and will be missing their company going forward?  I have no doubt that I will stay in touch with many of the members of the group, but I also know from my experiences in life that I will also lose touch with some.  And that is as it should be, I know that too, but unfortunately that knowledge does not alleviate my sorrow in the moment.  It never has in the past, and I have no doubt this will be any different.  I’ll be crying all week.

As a matter of fact, I think it’s already starting because yesterday morning when I was trying to meditate, the tears started streaming down my face thinking of one of my classmates whose child became very ill last week.  I had to smile at myself, up early to start the day on a positive note, wrapped in my blanket in my favorite corner … crying, remembering how vulnerable it felt being a young parent with a sick child, and also an adult child with an elderly sick parent.  Like I said, I have a feeling this is going to be an emotional week. I don’t define that as a bad week though.  I think in the big picture, if we have feelings of sorrow at parting with a loved one, we have had the blessing of a special bond to begin with.

There’s talk of doing our final this weekend if the class is ready for it, so that we can spend the last weekend reviewing and doing a group event on Sunday (hopefully no mountain climbing).  Our final consists of teaching a 90-minute yoga routine.  We are divided into two groups, and each group has about eight members, so we each take a portion of the 45 minutes.  My part will be opening the first ten to twelve minutes, so I will be welcoming the “class” and introducing our theme, reading something I’ve written about our theme, teaching a chant, and leading a breathing exercise.  Cross your fingers.

And in case you were wondering, I never got a call back from my number last week, nor did I leave myself a message.  I loved the different responses I received from you guys about who that was calling.  My sister-in-law, Lorene, said she thought it was my mom.  I wouldn’t put it past my mom, if she could manage it.

Whenever my mom would call me, she had a way of saying my name, there was a question mark at the end of “Sue” and she held the note for a few seconds, Sueeeeeee?  (Well, in print that looks more like a pig call, and even though I love pigs, that’s not how she said it.)  More like Suuuuuuuu?   And I always knew it would be followed with an important request like, “could you get me some more depends.”  I have to admit, I thought about my mom as I stared at the phone ringing with my name on the screen.  If she was trying to reach across the great divide, maybe she wanted to wish me luck on the final.  I’m doubting she needs depends where she is.

I hope you all enjoy your weekend.  I’ll be back next week with more tales about the weekend and our final.
Namaste

One Woman's Mission

This is the post I was excited to write, because it’s one of my favorite topics.  I should know better than to hype it too much, as that’s usually a mistake.  But no matter, tally ho, hip hip, here it is for better or worse.
I’ve always loved dreaming, wishing, manifesting … anything along those lines.  My favorite necklace which I wear most days says “dream” in Chinese.  I love any form of wishing, first star of the night, wishbone, or a penny on the ground.  If I am fortunate enough to find a penny on the ground, I need to pick it up.  And if for some reason I feel silly picking it up, middle of a crowded grocery store as one example, it just kills me to walk past it relinquishing that chance at a new wish.
In recent years I have gravitated toward the grown-up version of wishing, also known as manifesting.  I just find the whole concept so interesting, and at this stage of my life, I am one hundred percent sure that it is effective and certainly does influence my life.  It’s easier to see in hindsight.  If I look back over my life, I can see the intricate webbing that wrapped around my desires that in time became my realities.
There are many teachings that support my thinking, The Secret probably one of the most well-known books on the subject.  What I find interesting is that I remember my power, and then forget it, and remember it, and forget it.  I live mostly in the forgetful stage.  I haven’t really figured out why that is.  But no matter the reason, I am always delighted to remember that I do have power over my destiny both in terms of what I think and what I do.
What I have come to believe is that the universe is always working with us to accomplish our dreams and goals, as long as … and this is an important part … we have pure intentions void of ill will, and that we are also willing to pitch in and work toward our goal.  I also am convinced that at times, the universe will tweak our wishes a bit to fit what is available, but that usually I’m more than happy with the tweaks, and more times than not, it’s even better than what I tried to accomplish.  I’ve come to count on that, and now offer that up when I am manifesting.
One last component is that we humans do not need to figure out how the universe will offer what we are manifesting, that’s up to the universe.  And this is important to me, because otherwise I will start telling myself all the reasons why I don’t see it happening, in effect, sabotaging my dream before I even get started.  I just project, and if I find myself doubting, I just say to myself, “well, that’s for the universe to figure out.”
We have learned about and studied more topics than I can even count at this point in our class, and we have spoken a great deal about intentions which go hand in hand with manifesting.  One of my teammates posted a great blog about manifesting with the moon’s cycles http://ashleyneese.com/set-intentions-new-moon/.  And being a landscaper, this appeals to me, since I’ve believed for years that we humans mimick nature in all ways.  When Rick’s grandfather planted his garden, he planted by the phases of the moon.  Why should our seeds be any different?
Tying this subject together with my yoga teacher training, I came across a card I had sitting on my desk at Virgin America for the last few years.  I love this card designer www.curlygirldesign.com, the cards make me smile.  I brought the card back home recently as we have begun clearing our desks for the end of our employment which is nearing quickly, and I put it aside without even thinking about it.  You know how when you look at something day in and day out, you begin to look right through it after time  (one of the reasons I like to change out my artwork around my house, so that I have a new eye toward its beauty when I rehang it again.)
Last week I saw the card going through some paperwork, and began to really look at it again.  Now mind you, I placed this card on my desk at Virgin America when I had absolutely no intention of taking a yoga teacher training class.  I liked yoga, no doubt, but hadn’t been practicing it for a few years by the time I chose to make this card something I would look at every day.  The message simply resonated with me and I thought it would be nice to look at while I was working.
Reacquainting myself with the card last week, paying close attention to the small details, I had to laugh, a woman with a mission, an open heart, a voice and yoga.  (Hmmmm, sounds vaguely like a woman taking a yoga teacher training class and sharing her experience in a blog.)  I believe manifesting can be a conscious act, and I also believe it can be done by the part of ourselves that knows before we do what we need and want.   I spent many hours at that desk doing something that did not bring joy to my heart.  I enjoyed my coworkers, but listening to vast numbers of complaints can be a bit disheartening.  I dreamed about the day I would get back to my passion of writing and returning to the pastimes I had enjoyed in the past, one of them being yoga.
And here I am, writing a blog and studying yoga.  That realization lights me up like that first star out every night I love to wish on. Manifesting is magical stuff.  If you do it, you know what I’m talking about.  If you don’t, try it.  Be open and hopeful, and toss out the doubt.  And above all, be patient.  It’s a journey, and it takes time to realize our heart’s desires.
There’s a line at the end of another of my favorite movies, “Under the Tuscan Sun” that I’ve always loved.  I think of it often and it warms me from the inside out, as does the movie.
“They say they built the train tracks over the Alps between Vienna and Venice before there was a train that could make the trip.  They built it anyway.  They knew one day the train would come.
“Any arbitrary turning along the way and I would be elsewhere.  I would be different.  What are four walls anyway? They are what they contain.  A house protects the dreamer.  Unthinkably good things can happen even late in the game.  It’s such a surprise.”
Here’s to good things, wishes, surprises and believing …
Namaste
 
Cover photo is from curly girl design, www.curlygirldesign.com

Sailing

Who would think when you sign up for a yoga teacher training class in Auburn California that you would end up sailing around the San Francisco Bay on a beautiful Sunday afternoon for one of your class days?  That’s what I love about life, is that if you are open, you just never know where the day will take you.  I thank any of you who sent a positive thought for a fair-weather day, because it could not have been a prettier day on the bay.  After so much hard work on everyone’s part, it was nice to relax and spend an amazing day enjoying the surrounding beauty and getting to know each other aside from on the mat.
This experience continues to amaze me … stretch me … challenge me … and delight me.  I think every once in a while, what if I hadn’t signed up?  I wouldn’t know what I was missing.  And I guess that in a nutshell is life.  We make our choices, and life is always a compromise.  When we choose one direction, there is alternatively another choice down a different path with entirely different possibilities.  And I don’t believe so much in right or wrong, as every experience in life has its lessons.  I think more that it’s just important to try our best to make sound choices, and continually engage with that wise soul deep inside … Am I happy?  Am I feeling fulfilled?  Is there more I want to do or need to do?  What’s next?
And again, I can’t emphasize enough, no right or wrong answers.  For me, though, I want to feel I’ve used my time wisely and made a difference.  I can’t help but have some regrets when this life is over, as I’m human, and I’ve made my share of mistakes. I’ll be okay with that.  What I don’t think I will be okay with is regretting what I didn’t do.  Those are the moments we do have the control over.  We can make the choice to put one foot in front of the other even when it’s hard, even when we are afraid, if there’s something worthwhile at the other end.  And even if whatever we try doesn’t turn out, there’s much less regret in that than in letting yourself down without trying.
As I’ve said before in this blog, sometimes I feel like there’s a higher power aiding and abetting this journey I am on, my blog, the yoga training.  As I’m sitting here writing this, my cell phone rings and the caller id is MY NUMBER, and it says “maybe Sue Ferrera”  on my screen.  What?  How does that work?  I didn’t answer it.  I was a little afraid.  After all, there’s so many strange things going on these days with technology, can’t be too careful.  I did check, however, to see if I left myself a message.  So far, I have not.  My friend, Peter, said I should have answered as it might be a call from Green Acres.
In the scheme of this post, though, this call makes me think wouldn’t it be great if some future version of myself had the power to give me a ring to tell me hey, you might want to avoid this or that or hey, you’re really on to something there!
Unless today is the start of some new phenomenon, for now I will just have to be satisfied to listen to that inner voice and try to make as many possible choices as I can that leave me feeling like I did yesterday, just happy to be right where I was and knowing I was doing something very positive for myself, and hopefully others down the line.
Closing, check out this post from a fellow blogger, Yogafivefifty, https://wp.me/p9r9Y6-15W.  I read it yesterday morning and loved it as it’s just what I was feeling Sunday.  Whatever brings me moments like what he describes, that’s what I want to remember when I look back one day, A LOT of very contented moments.
Namaste
 
P.S. By the way, I just called back again.  I was on the phone, so I could not answer myself.  If I call a third time, I’m going to answer to see what I have to say.  I’ll keep you posted.

Loose ends in Green Acres

I think this title is appropriate for how my brain feels when I’m studying my anatomy, Second Edition of Yoga Anatomy by Leslie Kaminoff and Amy Matthews.  My partner, Julie (we have yoga partners assigned in class) loves anatomy and suggested this week we all do more reading in this book.  (Definitely not my strong suit.)  External intercostals, internal intercostals, innermost intercostals, external and internal obliques, my brain felt just like the picture in the book, like a bunch of red bands stretching in all sorts of different directions (if this was a map, I’d be lost in some hay field in Green Acres.)
I must have stared at the picture for 15 minutes, and all I could hear was the soundtrack from Green Acres.  Remember that television show?  I know some of you do!  My wonderful teammates in the guest relations department at Virgin America chat on our trillion throughout the day.  And the other day our beloved Paulie who simply loves the old stars, brought up Green Acres, good old Eddie Albert and Eva Gabor, and he quoted the first line in the theme song, and in no time we were all chiming in and every one of us remembered those silly words.  And remember Arnold, the pig?  I have always had a thing for pigs.  (No, I’m not making a derogatory comment about Rick.)
So there I was a few days later trying to make sense of intercostals while singing the Green Acres theme song …
“Green Acres is the place to be, farm living is the life for me, land spreading out so far and wide, keep Manhattan just give me that countryside.”
I think those red bands in my brain are tied a little too tight.
The post I’m looking forward to writing is going to take a day or so, so that will be next week.  Thought I would end this week with loose ends.
I’m continuing to practice speaking the instructions.  Like I said a few weeks ago, not as easy as you would think.  “Inhale arms up exhale forward fold, inhale half lift, exhale forward fold.” It’s not just the words, it’s important that your intonations match what you are saying.   I practiced on Rick the other night while I was cutting his hair.
Cutting his hair is an event that happens about once every six weeks.  We set up shop in the bathroom, and I get three pairs of scissors out and razors and the electric hair clippers.    (Seriously, all of this paraphernalia is a total overkill, but we have fun.  I can’t believe this dear man trusts me to do this, but my mother was a beautician so I must have some talent for this, you would think.  My mom is probably getting a good chuckle out of us these days.)
I was chanting my instructions “inhale, exhale” and he calmly replies, “as long as you don’t cup my balls and ask me to cough, we’re fine.”  I assured him I had no intention of studying to be a doctor, especially after reading that anatomy book.
This weekend we were supposed to go on another all-day hike on Sunday.   Scott, our teacher, loves to take people hiking and/or sailing.  Someone last weekend suggested to him that we go sailing on Sunday instead of hiking.  It’s been reported that it was my idea, but that can’t be confirmed at this time.
The great news is, we are going sailing on Sunday on the San Francisco Bay.  I am beyond excited because sailing is definitely on my bucket list.  I have only been sailing once, and hope to do much more of it at some point in my life. And as far as the hiking is concerned, there is one final hike on the last weekend, so I’m sure we’ll more than make up for the missed hike at that time, and we can also hike at Angel Island this Sunday as well.  Fun stuff.
Lastly, I ordered some of the cutest business cards for my blog.  I absolutely love them.  Since I’ve got more than I will ever know what to do with, if you want some to put on your refrigerator, hand out to strangers on the street corner, line your drawers … just let me know and I’ll send you a few.  If you are a friend I see regularly, no worries, I’m sure I’ll have a handful for you when I see you next!
All right, I think that’s it for the silly stuff.  I bid you all a wonderful weekend.
And please dear readers, send your positive thoughts on Sunday for a beautiful day on the bay.
I’m hopeful no one will chunder (another handy British term) on the boat.  Tally Ho and all that good stuff.
Namaste

Meditation

I want to start by saying how nice it is to share what I’m learning with all of you.  Your responses remind me of something I already know, but sometimes forget, that we are all much more alike than we are different.  With that said, here’s another new idea I’m trying out.   I’ve started getting up about 30 minutes earlier than usual to meditate and read/study.  Thirty minutes earlier, for me, is about 4:45 or 5:00 a.m.  Let me just say, I’m a sleeper.  I love to sleep, and I really love to SLEEP IN.  I am not one of those people who rises bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with the sun.  No, the sun can be doing its thing and I am still sleeping like a baby.  Any of our friends who stay with us can attest to the fact that I am typically the last person to make it to the kitchen in the morning.  Everyone is usually sitting around on their second cup of coffee when I saunter out.  So, making the commitment to get up even earlier than I already do for work, is really saying something.

But, wait for it, I have to admit it’s pretty magical.  This practice was suggested by our teachers, and I thought I’d give it a try.  It’s important to pick a pleasant quiet spot, a place that feels good to you.  I chose a corner in my living room, close to the windows.  It’s still dark at that time, so I turn the light on over the chair on the lowest setting, grab something warm to drink, and nestle into the chair with my favorite blanket.  Our assignments include meditating, reading, chanting, journaling, so I have plenty to do.  There really is something special about the wee morning hours, it’s so quiet and peaceful.  I enjoyed it so much the first morning I tried it, that I’ve done it every morning since.  It’s quickly becoming a favorite part of my day.

Early morning (sorry, Cassie, I’ll understand if this isn’t your favorite post) is really such a wondrous time, peaceful and serene and full of promise.  I find a marked difference in what I retain when I read early, as opposed to during the day or at the end of the day when I’m tired.  And with that thinking in mind, if we need to problem solve, let’s say, a dilemma at our workplace, or trouble with our children or our mate, parents, friends, whatever, the same principles must apply.  Giving yourself a quiet time where you can concentrate fully on problem solving, the end result can’t help but be different.

I’m smiling to myself as I write this, thinking about how I’ve historically resolved issues I might be having.  If I’m stressed about a situation, I will undoubtedly worry about it during my packed day, with twenty different tasks or interactions going on, at least, (I’m sure you are no different) and my little voice will be interrupting me constantly saying, “Hey, Sue, how are you going to fix this?  Hey Sue, what are you thinking?  Hey Sue, why not try this?  Hey Sue, I don’t think you are listening to me. Hey, Sue, come on, we need to fix this.  Oh, and hey Sue, did I happen to mention you need to fix this?”

Really, is it any wonder that I am able to stay worried or upset about a problem for long periods of time, when I don’t set myself up for success?  Comparing it to the workplace, it’s unlikely a manager would schedule an important meeting with his employees to work on an upcoming project, and then invite a traveling circus to assemble in the conference room as well.  I don’t know about you, but on any given day, my mind can be a little bit like a circus!

Anyway, you get the point.  Just thirty minutes even once a week can’t help but bring about some positive thoughts/realizations/inspirations/solutions, on top of the fact that meditation is healthy for your heart/blood pressure/digestion just to name a few.

Last night I woke up about 3:00 and stayed awake for quite some time, so many thoughts going through my mind (hey, could you keep it down, I’m trying to sleep here) until just about the time the alarm was going to go off.  Of course, that’s when I was just starting to sink back into some nice sleep.  Surprisingly when my alarm did go off, even though I was tired, I decided I would still get up because I knew that the 30-45 minutes I spent with my morning meditation would probably bring me a greater reward than trying to get in that extra sleep.

And my new-found ritual did not disappoint.  I think this one’s a keeper.

Let me know if any of you try it.  I’ll be interested to see if you find it as enjoyable and beneficial as I do.  There are many different ways you might spend your time, whatever feels right for you.  I like to meditate for the first half of my time, and then read and plan the second half, but that’s just me.

Whatever you do, make it pleasant, whatever that means for you.

I am excited for my next post.  It might be a little lengthy, so if I’m able to complete it today I will post it tomorrow.  If not, it will be my first one next week.  Have a great day all.  And as always, thanks for tunin’ in.

Namaste

Pressing Send

 
Good morning.  This is just a quick post, not so much about yoga in particular, but in response to comments that I have received from a number of people about blogging, and sharing their thoughts about the fears and roadblocks that can be associated with writing.  I wanted to share my experience so far, in the hopes that it will be helpful for some of you in terms of pursuing your own writing.  And even though this will be related to blogging, really these ideas relate to any dream or endeavor one might have that they feel hesitant to embrace.  In the end, whether we take that leap or stay in one place, can likely depend in large part on fear.
Putting yourself out there … not easy.  Making the decision to put yourself out there is, in my opinion, even harder.  The good news though, is that once you make the choice to go for it, it truly does get easier from there.  I think the hardest part is deciding which path you are going to go down.
I thought about the idea of blogging with regards to the training probably two months before the class.  When I first thought about it, it sounded like a sound idea, something that people could relate to and hopefully be inspired by, a subject that I imagined would have lots of things to write about, new experiences, new ideas to share, and there was a built-in ending.  That built-in escape hatch might have been the deciding factor for me.
If the blog was not going well, then all I had to do was finish it out (how hard could that be for six weeks) and then take my bow, pull on my ear (Carole) and stage left.  I’m outta here.  The worst-case scenario, once I really broke it down, was not all that awful.  So my ego would be a little scraped and bruised if it didn’t go well, that was not worth keeping myself from something I’d been wanting to try.  It’s not like a family member becoming sick or losing your home or some other true tragedy befalling you.
It would be a short, very short period of time that I might be a little embarrassed when I saw my friends and the subject came up about my blog  (insert your book/online dating experience/backpack trip/job interview, whatever it is you are thinking about but having trouble actually executing)  I would just have to acknowledge it didn’t really work out.  (Uhhhh, next?)
And really, how long could that conversation last, anyway?  Let’s face it, in this fast-paced world, people are not hanging on to your drama very long, as they have plenty of their own to focus on.  But this is hindsight, so let me go back to the weeks before I made my choice.
Once I had the idea, I basically looked her over, polished her up a bit, liked what I saw, and then shoved her as far to the back of my mind as I possibly could.  There she stayed until about ten days before the class, when it was time to decide if I was brave enough to try this.  Seriously, my stomach turned every time I thought about it, and for about three days in a row, I did my Scarlett Ohara impression.  There would be time to think about it again tomorrow.  When I was down to about a week, I told myself I did not have to do it, and that the class would be hard enough as it was, so why put that extra pressure on myself.  (Boy, is that ever a cop out.  But if that’s what you want to do, okay then.)
Another day passed, and I decided that I was down to the wire, and would need to make a choice.  That night we brought home some Chinese takeout, (you know where I’m going with this) and my fortune cookie said “take advantage of an upcoming opportunity.”   I put the little fortune on my computer screen in the lower left corner, and the next day with Rick’s encouragement, I sat down at the computer and drafted my first blog post.
Was it hard to press send a few days later, hell yes, it was.  But here I am 13 posts later, on such a high (of course, that might also be due to all the deep breathing I’m doing) and I’m just so thankful I took the chance.
To sum it up, I would say this.  Whatever your dream is, listen to that inner voice with regard to the logistics like good idea, bad idea, tweaks, etc. If you are thinking about writing, know there will be an audience if you bring your authentic voice to your writing, whatever that is.  If you are invested and excited about your idea, trust me, there are people out there waiting to hear from YOU.
Do not listen to the inner voice, if at all possible, when it’s scaring the shit out of you.  If you think your idea/dream/endeavor is sound, then figure out your escape plan, picture the worst-case scenario and problem solve how you will get through that.  Lastly surround yourself with people who will encourage your dream, and offer positive support. And of course, get some Chinese takeout, if possible.
And then push SEND.
Namaste

Tapas

Hi guys!  Hope you all had a great weekend.  I couldn’t wait to begin another new week with you.  This week starts on a different note from the past three weeks … my heart is peaceful and calm.  The weekend was full of hard work physically, and much to take in intellectually as well.  I am amazed at how quickly our bodies can adjust.  The first two weekends when I got home on both Saturday and Sunday, I was completely spent.  But not this weekend, both nights I came home energized.  It felt great, and I was delighted with the change.   This 62-year old body does seem to be rising to the challenge, and I am so thankful.  This weekend I had no emotional breakdowns, and I pretty much sailed through the days.
My mom was eerily quiet on my drives through the canyon.  Makes me wonder if my realization last weekend has quieted her soul as well as mine.  I have to say, and she would love this, I kind of missed her company on the drive.
Our weekend was filled with the physical aspects of yoga, but also the spiritual elements.  I continue to be amazed at how much there is to learn about yoga.  One could spend a lifetime, truly.  And I must say, I’m beginning to think I may do just that, spend the rest of my lifetime learning more about this discipline.
Our studies this week center around tapas. (And no, not the great little appetizers that are so popular these days.)  Tapas literally means to heat or burn.  One element of the teaching is that through mental tapas, you burn your old habitual impressions.  Through verbal tapas, you step outside of your communication comfort zone and have difficult conversations with yourself and others.
We were each asked to make a list of feelings or habitual thoughts that no longer serve us.  It could be anger or resentment toward an old friend, sorrow or guilt over a lost love, any feelings that we have harbored that have kept us down.  We could bring a picture or just write it on a slip of paper, and on Sunday morning we visited a little historical bed and breakfast place in Auburn.  They permitted us to use their little fire pit.  We gathered around our ceremonial fire pit and each cast our thoughts to the fire.  I remember doing something like this when I was much younger, and I have to say, it may sound a little hokey, but there’s something to it.  The physical act adds a component to the process that is hard to put into words.  They say that actually writing out your ideas, plans, thoughts, etc., changes your brain, and makes your chances higher of actually achieving your goals.  I would have to think this is the same concept.  It’s taking your thoughts and making them physical, with more power.
Interesting note, I didn’t feel the need to write anything about either of my parents.  I made my choices carefully and off to the fire they went.  The remainder of the weekend,  I put my energies into the physical aspects of what we were learning on the mat.
I was so happy that yesterday was a holiday, so nice after coming off of the challenging weekend.  I started my day with a walk in the brisk morning light.  It was a cold day in Cool.  When I got back, I decided to start a fire in our firepit out front.  Remembering that I had some old checks of my mom’s that I wanted to burn, I thought to run in and grab them.  I decided as I was walking toward the fire with her checks in hand, to make an intention with my burning, even though I still did not feel a need.  Quiet heart … finally.  But I thought it couldn’t hurt.
I tossed the checks into the fire and watched them burn.  I set my intention to let go of any old sorrows or resentments that I might not even realize still exist with regard to both of my parents.  I watched the checks for quite some time, and I did not shed one tear.  That speaks volumes for me, the champion of criers.  (if the Olympics had a crying event, I would be a shoe-in for a United States Gold medal.  Or maybe representing England?)
As the checks were all but engulfed in flames, a cloud moved from blocking the sun, and suddenly the heat from the sun on this cold winter day made its presence known. It made me wonder?  But what turned my wonder into believing, was that as I was standing there enjoying the warmth on my face, I noticed something falling from the sky, in a direction coming from over my shoulder.  I thought to myself, that looks like snow, but it couldn’t be.  Must be something falling from the trees.  (I absolutely LOVE snow, and when it snows in Cool, which isn’t very often, I am one happy girl.)  As I turned to look up, I found that they were indeed tiny snowflakes drifting from a cloud behind me while the sun still warmed my face. Magical moments on this path.
This week I find myself in complete awe.  This is an amazing life we lead, with endless possibilities presenting themselves to us every day.  I am so grateful I found the courage to try this.  I have a lot more I’m looking forward to sharing with you this week.
As I sit to write this post, Rick is watching “Field of Dreams”.  Amazing movie, one I’ve watched at least ten plus times, and I never seem to tire of the story line, the idea that we can heal across years/across generations/beyond what we know as this lifetime.    Like I said in my last post, life is but a dream.  How many people would line up on that road to the field of dreams if they could heal the sorrows they still harbor for their departed loved ones? I would think, just like the movie depicts, headlights as far as the eye can see.
I’m a strong supporter of the notion that in this lifetime, we see life through our earthly limitations, but that the best part of the story is something which unfortunately from our view, we can’t quite yet see.  I don’t think, though, that that precludes us doing the work we need to do in this lifetime to heal, even if our loved ones have left, or even if your loved one lived two or three generations before you and has left a legacy which affects your life negatively.
We just need faith, and I know sometimes it’s hard to muster up, but so worth it when you can … faith in something larger than ourselves, and a faith in goodness.  I won’t put a label on that faith, that’s up to the reader.  But in my humble opinion, ALL of those faiths add up to the same thing, and we need only visit the oceanside, the mountains, our streams and rivers, or look to the skies to know that this beauty is not random.  It repeats itself over and over and over again as far back as anything that we humans have been able to record.  Why would we not trust that?
Like in Field of Dreams, or my story with my mom, in most cases what we all struggle with is forgiveness. Hard to give, maybe even harder to receive, as we are always harder on ourselves than others.  But regardless of which direction it’s going, forgiveness can probably rival any medication on the market with its healing properties.
I would urge you to try the tapas idea.  (not the dinner, well, maybe that too)  But just take a peak inside to see what maybe you can toss out.  We just don’t need that old baggage in our hearts.  And then try making the tossing an actual physical exercise.  It can be throwing stones in a lake or river, or the ocean, or burning if you’ve got a fireplace or fire pit, anything which actually puts your desire into a physical form.  It has power.  And let me know if you do try it, what you think.
To close this post, I will share what I hope my mom knows, wherever she is… that she left behind some amazing souls to take care of her girl.  My children continually blur the lines for me between parent and child because the love they offer back to me on a daily basis mirrors what I feel for them.  Amazing.
And although my mom had her doubts about my second husband, in her final days she did come to know who Rick was, as he helped her through some of her hardest days in the hospital.  I’m glad she got a glimpse of who he truly is.
I won’t list the many ways he has supported this endeavor of mine.  I will just say this… when I left Sunday morning, as I bent to kiss him goodbye, (he was still in bed) I started crying.  Poor guy, just waking up, and here I am crying in his ear.  When he asked what the tears were about, all I could say was “I’m just so thankful for your support.”
I had been up for some time, meditating and reading, wonderful way to start the morning which I will chat with you later about.  But I left our home feeling such gratitude for my journey, and for all of my loved ones, and this morning in particular, for this man who says to me every morning half-awake when I head out to class in the dark, so early, “Be careful driving. Watch out for the critters.”
I hear the “careful driving.”  And then I wait for “watch out for the critters.”  It makes me smile.  It makes me feel loved.  As I drove to class Sunday morning on the windy road  through the canyon long before the sun would rise, even without my mom, it was nice to know that I’ve got another spirit keeping an eye out for me, as well as the deer.
Social media is full of the stories that from the outside look so amazing.  Much of what we see is a false representation.  Turn a blind eye to the glitz and look to your story and your glory.  It’s probably pretty simple and ever so lovely.  It’s just a story of love, and it can be a romantic love, but doesn’t need to be. It’s your story, and it’s the kind of story that keeps you coming back.
Celebrate your life this week, and try letting go of something, no matter how small it is.  Life is short.  The lighter our load, the farther we can climb.
So many lessons, so much more to tell … next post.
 
Namaste
 

Enough

One of the major themes throughout our two weeks in class has been self-acceptance.  Our instructors have done a fabulous job of teaching us to look at how we speak to others as well as ourselves.  It’s a bit surprising to realize just how much I apologize, for this, that and the other.  In the first few days, our teachers would stop us in our tracks when the words  “I’m sorry” came out of our mouths.  By the second weekend, the teachers didn’t even need to say a word.  If one of us was speaking in front of the group and began to say “I’m sorry” you’d see the speaker’s face flinch as if they’d been jolted with a small amount of electricity.  We looked like a bunch of Pavlov’s dogs.

It’s not as easy as you’d think to stop saying you’re sorry.  Tess, our female teacher, is such a little spitfire, I just love her.  And man, she just peers into your face and asks you, “WHAT ARE YOU SORRY FOR?  WHY ARE YOU SORRY?”  And she means it, she wants an explanation for why you are sorry.  In most cases, I find myself realizing I’m not really sorry at all.

There has been a major focus on the idea of being enough, and accepting that we are always enough at all times, regardless of what we can and can’t do, what we do and don’t have, that we are right where we need to be at that moment in time.  Interesting concept for some of us.  It’s so easy to always have my eye on something I think I want or need, or something I need to change about myself.  And not enough time is spent appreciating what is, right now, just this, just me, nothing more, nothing less, this moment being perfect.

The instructors have definitely gotten their point across in a short time, as  I am finding myself contemplating the concept of acceptance and enough throughout my days.  I think of myself as a pretty confident and happy person, but I have to be honest, I say I’m sorry a lot now that I pay attention.  The hike I talked about in my last post, I spent the whole way up saying I was sorry and thanking my angels.  They kept saying, no need to be sorry.  And they were right.  Why would I need to be sorry to someone else for my fear, and needing to take breaks to catch my breath when I’m not used to a hike like that.   WHY WOULD I BE SORRY FOR THAT?  Yet, there I was … sorry.

Check it out yourself, just pay attention to your thoughts, how many negative thoughts run through your brain in an hour, or a day?  We humans can be damn tough on ourselves.

With this philosophy in mind, I will share a really nice realization I had on Saturday evening when I left yoga.  Part of our homework has been to clean and clear our spaces, both internally and externally.  We were asked to purge our surroundings of unnecessary objects.  Since Rick and I moved in the last few years, I don’t have very many items left that need purging, but I did have a pile of old videos from my mom’s stuff sitting on my dresser.  It seemed the perfect place to start my assignment.

On Thursday night after dinner, I got comfortable and started to play each video.  Some were my kids from their preschool years, but there were two in particular that were films my mother had transferred onto video, and they dated back to when I was a toddler.  It was a collection of images, no sound, myself and my cousins going down a slide at the San Francisco zoo, our parents dressed in their Sunday best laughing among themselves, chasing after us, and others with just my parents and I.

I sat somewhat mesmerized studying the films, yearning to see more, searching their faces and actions for some clue as to how these seemingly happy people became what I would remember them as, two very unhappy and unfulfilled souls.  I finished looking at the tapes and went to sleep that night feeling so sad.

As I drove to yoga on Friday night, I was listening to the Beatles station on Sirius radio.  They were playing a collection all weekend of the Beatles’ top 50 love songs as voted on by the listeners, I’m sure in honor of Valentine’s Day.  For anyone who hasn’t listened to the station, they will put together a collection and then play it over and over all weekend, it just loops around and around.  I came in at the beginning of the songs working down from No. 50.  As I came through the canyon they played Julia, which is a song written for John’s mom, I believe, after her death.

I couldn’t help thinking about my mom, and still feeling melancholy from watching the tapes.  I found myself thinking how sad our life together had been, so much unhappiness and turmoil, and feeling like we had wasted our precious time on this earth together.  The mood hung in most of the night, and when I drove home around 9:30 coming through the canyon, Julia played again.  And then again the next morning, and then again the following evening. Coincidence?  I’m only in my car 20-40 minutes depending on where the class is, Auburn or Roseville.  I’m not sure what the odds are of coming into the rotation at the same place every time I get in the car, but I thought about heading to Reno to do a little gambling since my mom seemed to be in my back pocket.

Saturday morning my mood shifted and I welcomed the song, enjoyed my drive through the canyon and greeted the new day with an open heart.   What would day five of this adventure bring?  It was an eventful day in class, lots of yoga and instruction, but what would be the most important part of the day would come as Julia once again played on my way home (of course it did).

Instead of thinking my mom and I had wasted our time together, I asked myself “what if what we had together was enough? What if it was just what it was supposed to be?”  With that door open, my mind raced remembering what I’ve always believed, that we come here to learn and that sometimes our lessons are hard.  With that thinking in mind, then truly my mom and I kicked some ass in this lifetime.  We’d hiked our own trail straight up a rock hill and parachuted down to the river below.  Just maybe I had this all wrong.  Amazing.

And if all that is true, then it would explain my reaction when my mom did finally pass. Hospice had called early that morning to let me know she was close.  She’s been close for three months, but this day was different and I knew it the moment I walked into her room.  I settled into the big blue chair next to her bed with my book.  I’d pretty much said everything I needed to her in the previous three months, so there was no need for words at this point.  She was already somewhere far away.  I watched her breathing all morning, reading a page or two, and glancing up.  Although her breathing was labored, she was interestingly very quiet.  I could not rely on sound to monitor her.

At some point mid morning, I glanced up and found she had made her way ever so peacefully after such an arduous journey.  I sat watching her for a few moments and once I knew for sure her chest would not rise again, I said, “Mom, I didn’t even hear you leave.” I let the tears come, and after a few minutes, the next words out of my mouth were, “We made it, Mom.  We did it.”

They are interesting words for someone who has just lost her mother.  They were not words prepared or thought about beforehand.  They were the words of my heart, and what I was feeling.  And I don’t know about you readers, but to me, they sound like the words of a gal who made it with her mom to the top of the lookout.

I will close with the words of one of my favorite songs from You’ve Got Mail, hauntingly beautiful lyrics and melody.  For some reason, I do believe,  in this lifetime we choose to forget what we know in order to learn our lessons.  It’s nice when we remember …

“Long ago, far away

Life was clear, close your eyes

Remember is a place from long ago

Remember FILLED WITH EVERYTHING YOU KNOW

Remember when you’re sad and feelin’ down

REMEMBER TURN AROUND

Remember life is just a memory

Remember close your eyes and you can see

Remember think of all that life can be

Remember-

Dream, love is only in a dream, remember –

Remember life is never as it seems. Dream

Long ago, far away

Life was clear, close your eyes”

 

Remember lyrics – Harry Nilsson

http://www.harrynilsson.com/

 

If I walk away from this class with nothing more than this realization, it will be enough. But between you and me, I’m not thinking that I’m done.  Until we meet next week,

Namaste

 
Picture taken on our sunrise hike to the outlook over the American River, Overlook Park, Auburn, Ca.

Giving Thanks

Had one short post for you guys this morning, only to thank you for joining me on my quest.  Your responses mean a great deal to me.  To hang yourself out on the line, so to speak, can be a bit daunting.  But this journey with you doesn’t feel that way at all.  It feels so good to have my long-time friends and loved ones near, my new friends joining in and people I’ve never met reach out.

And I wanted to give thanks to a friend from high school, Doug D’Anna who is usually one of the first people liking my post every morning while he drinks his coffee (guessing) and peruses the Wall Street Journal.  Doug has been a writer for years.  Some 20 years ago when I picked his brain about what I should “write” about, he gave me the best advice I could ever get.  He said to me, “Write what you know.”  I’ve never forgotten his words of wisdom, and am putting them to good use.

Thanks, Doug, for the great advice, and thanks to each of you for tuning in and for those of you reaching back to me.  Will be back tomorrow with my post about Saturday.  Have a blessed day.

Namaste