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Praying Mantis (and pausing to make offering)

This morning as I approached my office, I noticed in the middle of a wide patch of sidewalk that is flanked by the street on one side and a brick building on the other, with no tree boxes or other plantings for several yards in any direction, a praying mantis stranded in the middle.  I wondered how it had gotten there and worried that it would not survive if it was just stuck in a sea of concrete.

I crouched and put out my finger.  The praying mantis crawled on to my hand.  I did not have time to go all the way back to the park next to the Capitol or to the nearest “island” with trees, but I took it to the nearest tree box, certain that there would be enough mosquitoes for it to eat well.  When I placed my hand next to the bush in the tree box and helped the praying mantis move onto the greenery, it first came back onto my hand again.  So I talked to it (as if it understood English) and encouraged it to get onto a branch (yes, I was getting some strange looks from passers by at this point).  I watched as the praying mantis eventually turned around and started moving into the denser foliage.

With this act, did I make anything in the world better except give myself the joy of interacting with a wonderful being?  Does it matter?

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    Web Version of May Newsletter–Invitation to the Dance

    Dear Friends,

    One of the most captivating elements of dance as artistic expression for me is that it has the capacity to show the beauty in the full range of emotions.  Whether the choreographer is telling a story or sharing an impression, making a political statement or expressing a feeling, the dancer’s inherent grace can show us that there is beauty in all things, helping us through the artistic medium to abide with what might otherwise seem emotionally intolerable and to celebrate more fully that which would naturally make our hearts sing.

    Since I first began practicing asana, it has been for me an embodiment of the dance.  The exquisite technique of the Anusara® principles of alignment  transformed healing work into a dance of exploration.  The expansion of my strength and flexibility in middle age — when because of my dance history I thought only would contract with age — allowed me to express progressively more fully the joy I find in my body.

    This year, John Friend’s overarching theme for his workshops and trainings around the world is “Dancing with the Divine.” The theme resonated especially fully for me because I started attending regularly last fall the Sunday contact improv jam on Capitol Hill and have been re-exploring dance after all the shifts I have made with an ever-deepening asana practice.  It has been with an eye towards not only my own dance, but the connection of the community, and our dance of relationship with our living planet that I am choosing which trainings and workshops to attend this year.

    When deciding what my study priorities are for the year, I look first at where my practice and teaching could benefit from some deep attention and wisdom offerings.  I look to the local offerings to deepen my connection to my home community and to minimize the environmental impact of getting to be in the same room as the teacher.  I am thoroughly appreciative of how wonderful it is to have a burgeoning and dedicated local community that has incredible teachers and draws others.  When planning which workshops or trainings with John Friend I will attend, I look at whether there is an opportunity to combine a training with a visit to friends or family or an opportunity to see art exhibits or museums that are of particular interest to me.  I like to go to any trainings that I can get to by train and, like even better when it happens, where I do not need a car once I get to the training/workshop location.

    Next dance for me with the bigger community is the Anusara Grand Circle in Stratton, Vermont for the summer solstice.  My heart expands with the anticipation of being in the mountains of Vermont with clear, starry nights and bright, vivid almost endless days for a gathering of fellow yoga dancers, those I already know and love, those whom I will get to know better, and those I will meet for the first time.

    It is especially exciting to know I will have the opportunity to study with some of the incredible teachers in the international community I am honored to know, but from whom I have not yet had the privilege of taking a class.  It is also a great opportunity to be with people who are just beginning to get excited about Anusara (gatherings like this are a great opportunity to study with John Friend without having the formal application process.)

    Local yogis, I look forward to seeing you in regular class offerings in the neighborhood and Willow Street, including just until the end of May, Thursday night restorative yoga.  I expect delightedly to see you, too, as fellow students at many of the incredible offerings both in and around DC and the country.

    And if any of you are interested in coordinating a trip to the Grand Circle to celebrate the solstice, send me an email.

    Peace and light,

    Elizabeth

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    Comfort Food Potluck Red Cabbage and Sprout Salad

    Last night I went to my neighbors’ “comfort food pot luck.” Comfort food tends to mean for many of us in winter warm, dense, heavy, rich food that is likely to be white, beige, or otherwise pale in color. There is much to be said for the emotional impact of great mashed potatoes or macaroni and cheese, especially when it is cold.

    As I was deciding what to bring and remembering that last time I went to this pot luck there were three kinds of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, and multiple kinds of bread, I thought about what would bring me comfort in that context.

    My diet is not subject to any particular label. I mostly do not eat meat or cow dairy–perhaps vegetarian/vegan preferred would be a good label to the extent one would need to give a label (we are so fond of those in this society). I also prefer local and organic food, in that order, when available, and find my health benefits from a fair percentage of my diet being raw, fresh fruit and vegetables.

    Based on my assumptions of what others would likely bring, I thought that it would give me great comfort to have something fresh, bright, crunchy, raw, organic, and mostly local to go with mashed potatoes (they were delicious Marlene) and assorted casseroles. I took a look at what was in the kitchen and found I had red cabbage, a couple of apples, an onion, and some carrots from the farmers’ market; organic celery, raisins, ginger, lemon, apple cider vinegar, and white miso from the food coop and the organic grocery store; and mung beans sprouting on the counter.

    The red cabbage salad and sprout salad was a hit as a foil for the traditional “comfort food.”

    Since you asked, here’s how its made:

    Mince some onion and dice a small red cabbage. Splash some apple cider over the onion and cabbage so it can start pickling while you are cutting up the rest of the ingredients.

    Dice some carrots and celery and add to the cabbage and onions.

    Throw in some raisins.

    Mince some ginger and add to vegetables.

    Mix a couple of tablespoons of mild white/blonde miso and some Dijon mustard to taste (a darker miso will be too strong) and stir in hot water to thin until the miso-mustard mix is a creamy consistency and stir into the vegetables.

    Dice an apple or two and mix in with the other ingredients.

    Add some fresh bean sprouts if you have them (I always have sprouts growing except in the hottest weather; a good source for supplies is www.sproutpeople.org; best to add the sprouts while they are still short so they are the same texture and size of the other ingredients in this chopped salad).

    Squeeze in some lemon juice to taste (or more vinegar if you don’t have a lemon on hand or want to be completely local). If necessary to get the dressing spread evenly over the vegetables, add a little more water.

    Add another apple or additional raisins if you need more sweetness to offset the saltiness of the miso and the astringency of the vinegar and lemon juice.

    This salad benefits from sitting for at least a few hours. It can sit overnight without the apples and the sprouts–the miso starts to ferment the cabbage as for sauerkraut, which is nice– but the apples and sprouts will get mushy and are better added at the end.

    Enjoy. Play with ingredients and quantities and please comment if you come up with a delightful variation.

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    Ecstatic Serenity

    When I was eight or nine, a teacher asked everyone in my class to say what they wanted to be when they grew up.  The other children named the various jobs or professions that appealed to them at the time.  I responded that I wanted to be independently wealthy.  At that age, I was expressing something I already knew from family issues.  Though I did not have the words for it or a clear understanding, what I was saying was not just false precocity.  I knew at a basic level what is taught in yoga:  I would need enough material support (ardha) to follow my heart in love (kama) and work (dharma); then my life could be free (moksha).

    When I was 22 and visiting my friend Dan, he asked me what I really wanted to do with my life.  We had just graduated from college.  Dan was working for a sculptor who was a professor in the art department; I had just moved back to New York, had just gotten over a failed attempt to serve as an office manager for an off-off Broadway theater, was in a place of deep emotional and financial struggle, and was trying to determine what work and corresponding further education I wanted.  “I want to be content,” I said.  “That’s too passive,” he replied.  “No, that’s not what I mean,” I tried to explain.  “For me being content being satisfied and engaged with my work and life, but still working hard and having goals.  It’s not just hanging out.”  I had all sorts of things that I found interesting and possibilities for a life path, but I didn’t have one specific career or life plan that I was certain would be more fulfilling than any of the others.  They just would have satisfied me in different ways.  Because of the dilemma of too many choices, I wanted to be able happy with whatever choice I made, even if it seemed like a compromise.  I was conscious that once I picked, because of the inherent limitations of time and space, that I would either have to be content with my choice or be unhappy.  I have since learned to think of contentment (samtosha), which is one of the niyamas of the path of yoga expounded by Patanjali, as a practice rather than a goal (and it is a very important and continuing practice for me).  Contentment is not an end, as I had thought when I was 22; it is just one part of the path to a goal of living liberated (jivanmukti), experiencing self as spirit in all that one does.

    On a recent telephone seminar, Paul Muller-Ortega, my meditation and philosophy teacher, in the midst of a broad dialogue regarding various studies and practices, spoke a little of ecstatic serenity.  Memories of the discussions I had had long ago about what I wanted welled up in the forefront of my thoughts.  In thinking about what is my intention now, especially with regard to my practice (sadhana), I witnessed my previously stated intentions as just stages on the path to this discovery.  As soon as I heard Paul say the phrase, I thought, “that’s what I want; I want to be ecstatically serene.”   I seek to be always in some part of my conscious being still and peaceful, while simultaneously being passionately engaged in what life brings to me and I bring to life.

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