Community and Family

thoughts on how we fit into the web of community, family and society

Afternoon Nap — Sometimes a Necessity (Like Savasana)

Sometimes, the best thing to do is nothing.

The past few days have been very full.  Last week was an intense week at work.  I am enjoying having a house guest and deepening a new friendship.  The workshop sessions on Friday night and this morning with Amy Ippoliti at Willow Street were wild and rich with information and play.  I always enjoy teaching my two Saturday classes.  Among all this activity, I hosted a little dinner party last night, which was quiet, but bubbling over with conversation.

After the workshop this morning, instead of going right home, I rode to Dupont Circle and had brunch with a fellow yogini, after which we walked up to Columbia Heights through Meridian Hill Park.  We had a fantastic time talking and catching up, and I loved doing a little exploring in a part of the city that is outside my usual haunts.

All of these activities were healthy and life enhancing, but still, it was a lot.  Just as including savasana is critical to assimilating the benefits of a good yoga practice into the fabric of being, taking a nap this afternoon before having one more evening of visiting with my friend Elisa and my getting ready for a couple of jam-packed, demanding work days, the sweet rest of a Sunday afternoon nap was critical for me to allow all the delights of the weekend to settle and integrate, to feel rested and enriched, instead of feeling like I need another weekend to rest from the weekend.

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Ripple Effects (and personal yoga)

Yesterday I looked at the continuing news about the crash.  Among all the other stories, it seemed fairly unlikely that there would be metro service between Capitol Hill and Takoma Park by the weekend.  This created a complication for me.  Living without a car and commuting a number of times a week to Takoma Park to teach and take class, I had to figure out how to get there.  It will be easy enough (I think) to get to Willow Street on Saturday to teach by taxi cab and to find a bus combination to get home.

In addition to teaching, though, I had been looking forward to studying with Amy Ippoliti on Friday night and Sunday morning.  I could take a taxi and a bus combination to study with Amy this weekend or just forego my tuition.  All that would be easy enough.  But I had invited a friend to come and visit to take the whole weekend with Amy — which includes another 12 hours of teacher training on Saturday and Sunday, where I will be off doing my own thing.  Since my friend and I will have very different schedules for this yoga weekend, and neither of us are much of a driver, renting a car was not really a viable option.  I thought about just staying in a hotel in Silver Spring.

Then I got to my personal yoga.  One of the hardest things for me to do is to ask for help (of almost any kind).  I am good at offering to help and am good at both helping when asked and saying I cannot help (the latter took some practice).  What I know from being a “helper” is that I get great joy from giving and offering assistance.  My never asking, then, means not giving those in my life the joy of providing assistance.  I overcame my deeply ingrained reluctance and asked for help.  Not big help.  Just is there someone already attending the training who can give a ride from the workshop into the District each night or provide an extra bed for my friend.  Fellow yogis were indeed happy to help; there are now a surfeit of options.

The minor inconvenience to me from this tragedy reminded me again to send healing energy to those who are suffering and to see things in perspective.   I was given a sweet reminder of the warmth and generosity of my yoga friends and colleagues.   I was able to practice with success addressing one of my continuing challenges.  I have been blessed, then, in the aftermath.  Contemplating these gifts with gratitude gives me more energy to send out for those in need.

For those of you who are local, I think there is still space in the workshop with Amy:  come join us for all level hip openers on Friday night and intermediate/advanced backbends and standing poses on Sunday morning.  See link to Willow Street above for more information.

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Gratitude and Prayers

A little before 6pm my cell phone rang while I was sitting at my desk at work in the throes of a complicated task.  It was a friend and fellow yogi calling.  “All you alright?” he asked.  “I’m in the middle of a horrible assignment and I have cramps, but I guess I am OK” I replied, “why do you ask?”  He told me about the metro crash.  He didn’t see me at Willow Street and was worried that I was on the train.  Had I gone to class instead of staying late at work, I well could have been on the red line at the time of the crash.

I was grateful for my friend’s call and warmed by his concern.  I am busy checking in with the many people I know who could have been on the train.  I know many friends, neighbors, Willow Street colleagues and students, and co-workers who themselves or whose friends and loved ones may have been in the crash.

I am filled with concern and compassion for those from whom I have not heard and those who were injured, trapped, and afraid.  I will spend much of the evening practicing and holding all in the light.

Please all who commute on the red line, comment, post on face book, and send emails to let us all know you are OK.

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Ganesha (Deity of the Marines?)

A senior colleague and I spent several hours today working together on a very challenging aspect of a long-term project.  When we were wrapping up for the day, I showed him a murti of Ganesha that another co-worker had brought me from the Norton Simon Museum when she had gone on a business trip to Pasadena, where our Los Angeles office is located.

I said that I do not believe in the Hindu deities as gods, but find them helpful for contemplation as archetypes (in the Jungian sense).  I said that being on this project has taught me much about yoga and about Ganesha.

“Ganesha,” I explained, “is not so much the remover of obstacles, but the one who places obstacles in your way to teach you the wisdom to grow and find a more enlightened path from having confronted the obstacles.”  “Oh,” said my colleague, “like the Marines:  adapt, improvise, and overcome.” “Well, sort of,” I replied, enjoying that we found a way to share laughter after our difficult afternoon.

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“I’ve Got My Life Back”

I was at a business meeting yesterday that started with people introducing themselves around the table.  The participants were all either members or staff of a prominent lobbying group or government officials.  One of the men said that he was now a consultant.  “I used to be general counsel of [lobbying group], and now that I am consulting,” he said, “I have my life back.”  The introductions continued around the table.  The new general counsel, when he introduced himself, claimed, “it’s my life he has taken to get his back.”

I found this all interesting in light of my blog yesterday.  These men are very successful.  They both are married with families.  They seem to be pleasant and smart.  Their definition of “not having a life” was not having failed to be fully engaged in doing what society expects them to do — they have clearly done very well indeed — but not having time to play golf or hang out in addition to being “successful.”

Is the difference between being male and female?  Or were the two different contexts of the same social, linguistic tic just exemplifying a the view point of a superabundant and privileged class that we are not living fully unless we do and have everything the collective society admires and we simultaneously feel like we have lots of leisure time to enjoy as we see fit?  It’s a hopelessly unrealistic standard.

Every moment we breathe and our heart beats, we are living.  One of the keys to tantric yoga is to come to a place where we are living fully and abundantly whatever we are doing, whether it is working or playing, being challenged or relaxing.  When we can do that, we realize we “have a life” and one worth living, no matter where we are in our journey.

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I Don’t Have a Life (Really? What a Strange Thing)

Last night I was thinking about what that phrase means.  I was talking with a friend who has a similar enthusiasm for studying, practicing, and teaching yoga, who also has a full-time job/career.  At some point in describing the number of hours I have spent studying with John Friend and other Anusara teachers, it came out of my mouth that I have been able to pursue this passionate engagement with yoga because, as others have said to me, “I don’t have a life.”  My friend, being in the same society after all, initially went right along with that statement as if it was a perfectly reasonable thing to say.

Then we started questioning it.  It is not as though we do not both have rich, full, engaged, active lives.  How did the vernacular come up with a phrase  that says we do not “have a life,” if we are not so occupied with the things that society would have us do (for the “modern” woman I think this means high-powered career, husband, children, nice house) that we have enough time and flexibility to deeply pursue and explore beyond what we are supposed to do?

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Gifts of Onions (and Eternal Truth)

A couple of weeks ago, a good friend gave me a box of perfect vidalia onions.  She had been given two boxes.  She said, “These onions were so good; I wanted to give them to someone who would truly appreciate them.  I first thought of you.”  I was delighted, “yes, I’d love some vidalias.”  They are exquisite.  I’ve been making delicate sautes, grilling them, dicing them into salads, and marveling at their sweetness.  I passed a few on to others that both would fully appreciate the onions as a culinary matter and also know my friend, who is a former co-worker.

Last night I went to take class at Willow Street and was talking a little with the work study students at the desk after class before heading home.  “Would you like some onions?” asked one of the work study students, who does great work with the Fresh Farm Markets around town.  “Oh, how lovely, no, no thank you,” I replied, “A friend just gave me a box of vidalia onions and I have shallots, baby leeks, spring onions, and garlic chives in my garden.”  “I think you have enough in the allium family already,” she agreed, “would you like a cucumber?”  “A cucumber?  Yes, that would be great.  I’ve only gotten one ripe one so far; they aren’t liking the cool wet.”  She gave me a cucumber and a zucchini from a farm visit she had done that morning, which made my evening (I am so easily pleased).

This morning I wondered about these offers of onions.  It is not as though it is a regular thing for me twice in a space of a couple of weeks to be given bounteous offers of exquisite onions.  Did it mean something?

Onion comes from the same latin root as “union.”  Unlike garlic, in whose family onions belong, onions grow a single, undivided bulb, which is the likely reason for the development of the word onion.  From sketchy researching on the internet, I find onions are also the symbol of “good” and fullness — hence the onion domes in architecture.  The ancient Egyptions thought the onion a symbol of eternity (layer upon layer of being) and truth.  Yes, I like thinking these onions (those I took home and those that were gifted instead, no doubt, to some other appreciative soul) were meant to bring me to think of good, of union, of the eternal truth in gifts and shared pleasure in sharing delicious, healing, fresh food with friends.

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Why Should You Care? (Computer Censorship and the Dalai Lama)

Why shouldn’t you care?  Enjoy having freedom on the internet to read this blog, among others? To learn about what is happening in the world and to explore and expand your learning?  To connect on Facebook and Twitter?  Think 300 million people shouldn’t be censored?  Consider signing the petition to Dell and HP to tell them they shouldn’t install special blocking software in computers for the China market.

http://act.credoaction.com/campaign/chinese_internet/?r_by=4431-391488-o3sh29x&rc=paste

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Six Hours of R&R (A Simple Extravaganza)

I woke completely refreshed this morning, even though it was a very long work week, I taught two classes yesterday, I have lots to do today, and it promises to be a stressful work week coming. The sense of well-restedness is thanks to the six (or was it seven) hours of nurture I gave myself at the end of the day yesterday.

First I walked to a late afternoon appointment with my wonderful massage therapist, Patrick McClintock. My walk to see Patrick  is a beautiful walk 14-block walk through Capitol Hill. I strolled home afterwards, stopping at the grocery store to pick up soy milk and a couple of other items I like to have in the house (no more than I could carry easily), then walking through Lincoln Park on my way home.  Taking my time on my walk, I visited with a few dogs and neighbors who were out.

For dinner, I made a stir-fry of tempeh and radish greens (greens and herbs came right out of the garden).

  • In peanut oil (or other oil that can take high heat; not olive oil with asian flavors); slice a clove or two of garlic, mince some ginger, saute until garlic is translucent; add sliced onions and saute until translucent (when you add onion or onion parts depends on whether you are using onions, green onions, or scallions — white onion or onion parts go in before the greens, green parts go in after bitter/firm greens or with tender greens); add diced tempeh (or tofu or leave it out and add minced toasted nuts right before serving); saute until onions and tempeh are turning golden; splash with rice wine vinegar and Braggs liquid amino protein or soy sauce; quickly stir to integrate flavors; add greens and fresh herbs from the garden; saute until wilted; add splash of sherry, white wine or water; saute until liquid has evaporated. Serve with any grain or asian-style noodles.

After dinner, I read for a bit. Then I gave myself a mini-facial and pedicure. At twilight, I sat out back with an herbal infusion made from mint and lemon balm from the garden and watched the moon rise — it was a glorious moon.

I followed this simple, extravaganza with a long practice of restoratives, supine poses, and forward bends, and took my savasana into bed for the night.

Maybe you cannot fit in this much, and I do not do this much R&R in a single block every week — some Saturdays I want to go out on the town. Try to make part of some of your weekends (especially critical if you, like I, work six days a week, not five)  restful without having to go away — perhaps including one of the Serenity Saturday workshops at Capitol Hill Yoga when you can.

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“Enjoy Your Day, Regardless of the Weather”

So said the meteorologist, when I called to check the weather yesterday before getting ready to go out for work.  I thought, “it is easy to enjoy your day, ‘regardless of the weather’ living in a nice house with enough money for heating and cooling, working inside, and getting food flown in from wherever, if the garden isn’t doing well.”

I am awed and fascinated by the weather, although living this almost entirely protected and secure (from the elements, less so from other people) urban life, it is an almost vicarious relationship.

One of the reasons I love gardening is that it links what the weather — a rainy and cool spring like we are having; a drought, like we had for the past four years; violent thunderstorms; a snowy winter — with what food grows well, how my wildlife supporting little garden in the front thrives, helping to tie me back to the earth.

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