Sadhana
I did not go to the women’s march. I was attending the first day of the second weekend of a two-weekend yoga teacher training for those recently post-trauma.
I did meet others on their way with a good reminder about power.

I did not go to the women’s march. I was attending the first day of the second weekend of a two-weekend yoga teacher training for those recently post-trauma.
I did meet others on their way with a good reminder about power.

Daffodils and tulips have arrived in the shops. If you’ve forced bulbs (I didn’t this year), they are blooming (give or take a few weeks). The arrival of the Dutch flowers and the forced blooms lets us know that spring is soon to arrive. If you look carefully, you can see that the early bulbs are starting to come up. If you are lucky enough to have them growing in your garden or a neighbor (who wants to share), it is a great time to bring in forsythia and pussy willow cuttings for forcing.
How wonderful to enjoy these harbingers of spring in the last few weeks of winter. I get a similar feeling when I am given an assist to be able to do a yoga pose that will be out of reach for me to do by myself for some months or perhaps longer. When an assist opens me to an understanding of how I can grow, just as the arrival of the dutch bulbs and the forced flowers give an early reminder of spring, my heart opens. Given this inspiration, this understanding of the possibility of growth and flowering, I am inspired to turn around and share this delight with others. How could I not want to share?
Paul Muller-Ortega, who is offering a meditation and philosophy workshop at Willow Street Yoga Center this weekend, says that sadhana (yoga practice, incuding meditation), doesn’t just give us “freedom from, but also freedom to.”
The “freedom from” is freedom from suffering. The freedom to” is freedom to move towards light and blissfulness.
When we first come to the yoga mat or meditation cushion, we are usually coming to discover the “freedom from” we have heard about — perhaps relief from aches and pains or disease, perhaps weight loss or improved body image, perhaps lowering anxiety or easing depression. We discover, when we start practicing, that even if we do not get “freedom from” exactly as hoped within a limited view, that discovery of the “freedom to” itself provides a “freedom from” by making that from which we seek freedom less prevailing as the focus of our being.
One of the first things I did when I got home was to start several kinds of sprouts. Soaking beans overnight is, if you think about it, just a prelude to sprouting. I often sprout beans for a few days even if I plan to cook them. Once they have just sprouted (usually after two+three days), cooking time to tender is only 10-15 minutes. I had some sprouted chickpeas, a couple of potatoes in cold storage (aka the vegetable bin in my refrigerator). Today was the first day I was really able to get into the garden since my return. In addition to carrots, I was able to pull a substantial quantity of various greens: kale, chard, curly endive.
The stew: saute in olive oil (or a mix of olive oil and butter), minced onion and garlic, diced celery and carrot until translucent. Add to pot peeled and cubed potato and sprouted chickpeas (if using only soaked chickpeas, cooking time will be 3-4 times as long; or you could use already cooked chickpeas) and stir to coat with cooking oil. Add a couple of dried hot chilis (optional) and some sprigs of rosemary and oregano (fresh is best). Cover with vegetable stock or water and cook until chickpeas and vegetables are tender. In a pressure cooker this took about 10 minutes. Chop whatever fresh greens you have on hand (anything, but collards; if all you have are collards, kidney or pinto beans would work better than chickpeas). Add the greens just before serving and cook only long enough to wilt greens. Season with salt and black pepper to taste. I used rind from a spanish rosemary-crusted goat cheese when cooking. This would be optional, but if you want just a hint of cheese flavor, cooking with the rind of a hard cheese is very nice.
Ah, it is good to be home.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.