Today’s snow was a soft and beautiful one. Mostly, though, people were complaining that it was still snowy and cold.
With camera in hand this morning, I thought that to have more when we have already had too much makes it hard to appreciate the intrinsic good of a thing. I enjoyed this snow as a reminder of how moderation can enhance pleasure.
I then surrendered to the fact of the snow and to its beauty, letting go of my preference for spring mildness.
Jupiter and Saturn glowing together so brightly that even the light pollution cannot obscure them. Jupiter is sometimes referred to as the guru planet, the weighty one. Take a look at the sky and use that to listen to your own inner guru, the space where you are fully grounded, engaged, and free in spirit all at the same time. For me, it’s still a work in progress.
Tomatoes, green beans, baby carrots, Thai basil, garlic chives, anaheim peppers, jalapeños, habanero pepper, pickling cucumber, spearmint
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.
Yesterday morning, on the listserv for the Friends Meeting of Washington, someone shared a link to the original recording of Arlo Guthrie singing “Alice’s Restaurant” as part of an email about Thanksgiving festivities. Usually, I scan listserv emails quickly and delete, especially when they relate to events that I am unable to attend. I saved this one for later, though. I’d woken up from some anguished dreams that were hard to shake, and on being reminded of it, I was sure that when I could make the time, listening all the way through Alice’s Restaurant (it’s long) would cheer me up.
This morning I did indeed listen, and remembered why we (at least those of us who attended Quaker Youth Camp in the early 1970s) memorized most of Alice’s Restaurant. It spoke to us and inspired us and invited us to feel that we were not alone in thinking that things could and should be more gracious and peaceful.
And the refrain is catchy and easy to sing. This morning, at the end, when Arlo invites the audience (the 1967 album version was a “live” recording), I started singing along just for the delight of it, which led me to think about the power of mantra.
Chanting or silently repeating mantra is one of the key yoga practices. The purpose, roughly, of mantra is to replace one set of thoughts with another. Repeating even just “om,” the simplest mantra, over and over again is meant to shift you from whatever mind state you might have been in (at least to the extent that you are having repeating troubling thought patterns) and into or towards a more beneficent state. In my own years of practice, I have found much power in practicing Sanskrit mantras, but many of the songs we have been singing for years, especially those that we associate with ritual can serve similar purposes.
If you’re so moved and feeling that you’re having thoughts around this Thanksgiving holiday that you’d rather replace with more cheerful ones, invite the power of mantra and perhaps sing, along with Arlo for the refrain in Alice’s Restaurant.
Oh yes. Happy Thanksgiving.
