(Recognizing that to be here now mindfully , we must learn from the past and care for the future).
With respect to Ram Dass.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
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?
Pantry items, long storage organic cheese, greens from the garden.
As I eat these simple, inexpensive, nutritious meals, I ask myself:
How much do I need?
What kind of economy do I want to support for when we can go out again?
What kind of businesses, of food delivery systems, of community support and interaction?
I have reorganized my budget–not having eaten out or bought anything in weeks and thinking about how little I miss it except as a treat, and having already come within range of this as these dark times have been progressing, I have now dedicated a full bi-weekly paycheck to monthly giving. I am blessed to still have a steady paycheck, health insurance, and the knowledge to live well on a budget.
A member of a text group of hyper local neighbors sent a text with a “rainbow alert,” as a fierce thunderstorm was coming to an end.
I was already watching and photographing. Another neighbor sent a photo of an enormous tree limb that had just fallen to the sidewalk due to the storm. Fortunately, no one was hurt.
