Or perhaps it is enough to be open to liking. I had a yoga teacher trainer who said that he loved all of his students, recognizing their inherent shared humanity, but being human, liked some better than others.
By order, I mean how things are arranged in space or time. Even chaos theory presumes order in that sense. On and off the mat, there is a certain order to things that is optimal. We do not plant seeds and then till the soil. Or think of the difference between peeling and chopping vegetables and then cooking them or cooking them and then peeling and chopping them. One or the other is not necessarily wrong if you do not have a specific dish in mind, but which you choose will dictate the results. Once you have gotten started in the sequence, though, the path shifts and is partly set. To reach an exquisite rather than a disgusting result, the next steps are ordered by the initial choice.
If only one musician is playing a single note, then there is no possibility of discordance. Add more musicians and more notes and who plays what notes when can mean cacophony, a catchy tune, or an extraordinary and ecstatic work of art. None of us are alone and none of us are playing just a single note, so in the great fabric of our being, it is best to understand how to make music.
Sequencing on the mat is more subtle than what poses should be done in what order in a particular practice to emphasize backbends v. forward bends and twists to be able to do the strongest poses with the least possibility of injury, as important as that is. The order in which we apply the Anusara principles not only aligns the physical body, but brings symmetry to the physical and energetic bodies, helping us to feel more in harmony in everything we do on and off the mat. I am, in this, a decent musician and not Bach, but the more I pay attention to the optimal sequence of things (keeping in mind that over most things we have no control as to when, whether, and how they happen) and the more I learn and appreciate the exquisiteness of order, the more I feel, understand, and experience the subtleties and joys of harmony.
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.
This morning I walked up to Cultivate the City with a neighbor. I am going to try more fruit this year–I found a spot for a passion fruit vine; I will put strawberry towers on the sleeping porch; I may put in a golden raspberry; the Concord grape is looking promising. Meanwhile, around the neighborhood, the cherry trees are in full blossom.
