My Favorite Bindi


How different the tone of these two photos just from the direction the camera was pointed, how much was included in the overall image, and the shift in the shape of my mouth. The clowns with their paint, the angle of the camera, the reflection all pointed out for me how little I sometimes understand, despite my best intentions and efforts, in going about my day and interrelating with others. Today I went to visit a friend who is in the intensive care unit. She has been struggling with severe illness for many years. Though she cannot really speak at present, I thought she was trying to reveal something of great moment. Not knowing how to react or what to say, I held her hand and told her I loved her. As I was leaving, I told her husband what I had observed (carefully not saying what I thought, which is hard for me). Later in the day, thinking of the limits and perils of common speech, I composed this found photograph, wishing for more insight, more clarity, and more power to help, but knowing that love was all I could offer.


Friends and acquaintances ask me whether I am teaching yoga. My answer is that I do it when asked. Last week, I offered a “release” practice for a friend who is still having hot flashes many years after their final menstrual cycle. I said, it helped me, when I suddenly overheated, to think of offering something that no longer served, into the fire pit of the goddess to transmute into energy and light.
Today I offered some asana practice-inspired tips to any older friend to help with getting up and down off the floor.
What in your current stage of embodiment are you interested in practicing and deepening your awareness and understanding?
maybe it was the roses.” Thank you to all my neighbors who make their front gardens an offering of beauty.
Saw this as an email signature from an email on a list serve I follow and had to share:
To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”
–Ralph Waldo Emerson