On the Way to Work (Urban Forest Bathing with Dome)
BTW, if you’re interested in more of my quirky views of the Capitol Dome, feel free to look for me on Instagram as
rosegardenyoga1008

BTW, if you’re interested in more of my quirky views of the Capitol Dome, feel free to look for me on Instagram as
rosegardenyoga1008

This spring I decided to for the second time growing a fig in a container. It has about five figs, all of which I intend to eat before the squirrels can get them (I’ve beaten them and the birds to the three blue berries that have ripened so far; I have high hopes for the figs). I don’t think my fig in its container is suitable for sharing as “Neighborhood Fruit.” Do you have a fruit tree that has too much fruit for you? Let people know.
This full moon is both the one called by some “guru purnima“–with rituals to honor the teacher–and also the relatively rare blue moon. I’ve been seeing lots of postings on social media about guru purnima by my friends who are engaged in the practice, study, and teaching of yoga. The variations in the postings about guru purnima are as wide as what the person believes is the guru–from recognition of a person who has been named a guru; to teachers, recognized as such; to simply the invocation of our own teacher within. Suggestions for ritual range from specific puja to just an invitation to think about the concept and to recognize those who have imparted wisdom to us that has enhanced our lives (even if we have to do a lot of work to know that).
I’ve never personally been called to have a guru (among other things, it is too counter to my unprogrammed Quaker upbringing). I do, though, have many teachers, some more formally serving in that role than others and I cheerfully honor them today.
I invite you to think about what it means to have teachers, i.e., to be a true student. How we might be living if we consciously interrelate with all around us, human and not, as both a student and teacher all of the time? What quality of listening and openness would that require? What might we be learning? What might we teach?
As I witnessed my cozy house shaking and rattling in this my first really measurable earthquake, I got a much deeper appreciation of just how quickly things can fall apart despite apparent solidity. It felt clear to my very core that to be able to weather whatever comes what we need to know as unshakable is our own deepest self. What happens when the emblems of faith, such as the National Cathedral, are shaken by the strength and awesome power of nature?
I interrupted a work conversation with a colleague for us to watch the light and have a moment of awe.
