I had forgotten completely about this full moon holiday named “guru purnima.” But last night when I was getting off the bus after evening Spanish class, i was greeted by the brightness of the moon and I stopped and bathed in it. It was a few minutes before I took the picture. I love it when the camera adds something not visible to the naked eye.
Dear Friends,
My apologies for being so long in sending a proper newsletter. 2014 was a challenging year for me. I started the year sick, ended the year sick, and was limited by injuries for several months out of the year. Work was intensely challenging on just about every level, day after day, week after week, and it continues to be so. And then there’s concern about the state of society and the planet and trying to figure out what I, honoring my capacity and limits, can do to do more good and less harm (I’ll never get this sent if I get side-tracked in that direction).
I also had some great adventures, including a major home renovation and an extraordinary trip to Cuba, but then was working too hard in between to appreciate and integrate fully my experiences (which is a yoga lesson in itself–addressing whether we need more stimulation when we haven’t had time to address/process previous experiences whether delights or challenges to mind, body, emotions, creativity).
Yes, I’m still teaching, even though working as much as I am these days. You can find me leading an all levels group practice with a wonderful group of people on Tuesday nights from 6:30pm -7:45pm at William Penn House in Capitol Hill. 100% of the proceeds (pay what you can; suggested donation $12-15) support the work camp program at William Penn House. There’s also a weekly group practice for more advanced students on Wednesday nights. Email if you are interested in the Wednesday night practice. More info on classes on my rose garden yoga website.
Yes, for those of you who don’t subscribe, I’m still blogging. With the help of wonderful web designer, friend, neighbor, and fellow yogi, Jess C, I just updated the look of the website. I hope to find time to blog about the many layers of meaning that went into the new design, which has the colors of Kali (goddess of sequencing); the murtis are Dakshinamurti (Siva as teacher) and Saraswati (goddess of learning, the arts, etc.); the books are a small, but important to me as yogini, portion of my library.
If you’re in town, join me for practice one of these weeks or perhaps we’ll run into each other another class or workshop. Please let me know how you are. Best way to be in regular touch are to subscribe to the blog. When there isn’t an interval between working and living and loving, and all the rest, to share more detailed written contemplations about living yoga,I’ll share the signs and exhortations I see around town and remind myself and anyone else who wants the reminder that no matter what is going on, there’s always a moment to appreciate a little beauty–perhaps to notice a heart-shaped cloud in the sky.
Feel free also to friend me or like “Rose Garden Yoga” on Facebook. Instagram possibly coming soon in my copious free time. Ha.
Peace, love, and light,
Elizabeth
Snowdrops have been showing up for more than a week, but crocuses? They seem a little incongruous with the bitter winds and as much a reminder of global warming as of spring. I feel a bit confused seeing them, though delighted.
It has been a good winter. I have learned to appreciate the cold and dark, which gives us time to enjoy the pleasures of home and introspection. Now, I am looking forward to spring, the effusive colors, the warmth, the ability to get back out into the garden.
This time of year, with the radical contrasts of cold winds and flowers does highlight the play of opposites, the very pulsation of existence — in yoga terms, the spanda. This time in society seems to have a similar play of bitterness and sweetness. Staying steady with our yoga practice and our community, we can delight in what we see and what we have, even as we may be worried and working for change. That too, is part of the play (lila). To invite in a steady warmth and support from our practice and our community, even as we see difficulties and challenges, want things to be different, and know that our work may not necessarily bring about the change we seek.
The New York Times just published a lengthy article on “How Yoga Can Wreck Your Body.” The response of one of my fellow certified Anusara yoga instructors was “duh!” This conversation greets me as I am about to offer a free gentle and therapeutic yoga class at Willow Street Yoga to invite new and continuing students to discover the power of the Anusara alignment principles to heal and transform challenges of embodiment. If I were not highly confident in the power of Anusara yoga to heal when practiced mindfully, I might be worried that the article would keep away potential students. Instead, I welcome the “news” as a way to broaden the invitation to discovery.
As I have blogged about before, at an intensive, John Friend once compared advanced asana to digitalis–depending on dosage and circumstances of the individual digitalis is at once the deadliest plant in the garden and one of the most powerful medications to heal the heart. We don’t read much about digitalis in the news, but we are constantly bombarded with contradictory news flashes about the health risks and benefits of lots of things — coffee, red wine, vitamins, running, anything that has been either held out as either a cure all or an evil that is ubiquitously practiced or imbibed. Why? I think it is because we in this society are hungry for panaceas, for effortless solutions, for the latest thing, for something to save us from emptiness and ill health, without actually having to work at it. It is newsworthy that yoga bears risks precisely because we (the general societal we) wanted it to be a perfect solution without actually requiring any change how we live the rest of our lives (including diet, exercise, relationship to others) and to bring to yoga the mindfulness, determination, and steadiness that it requires to bring the peace, harmony, and healing it offers.
said the guy who is doing the exterior painting and repairs to me this morning, after we were talking about what needed to be done with the stairs, and we talked a little to the downstairs resident who was on his way out to work. Then he paused, after thinking about what he had seen of my house and garden and added, “unless it is cultivated.”
“Yes,” I replied, “it is cultivated.” I will never be completely easy-going, but at the same time as some might wish me more easy going, one of my strengths is my attention to detail and my ability to create order. I cultivate, though, an ease with necessary disorder — the disruptions that come hand-in-hand with construction, repairs, creation (art, kitchen, garden, home), growing relationships, and comfort where I am. We may not be able to change our nature, but we can make shifts that ease our being. Radical affirmation in yoga is accepting our tendencies, but then seeking shifts to make life even fuller.
