Some things we need to learn to adequately navigate the environment in which we are living. Some things we can choose to learn. And sometimes, life gives us the choice of suffering or learning from what life has given us.
It has been a special day. I met a skink when we were weeding at the Youth Garden. First time I have encountered one.
I am grateful for a life that is healthy and safe enough for such things. Wishing health and safety for all and giving of time and energy (though I am sure it ought to be more) beyond the prayers to help it manifest.
The polar vortices must have been good for the grape kiwi. After years of being barely productive, it is flourishing wildly.
Sometimes it takes, as we can learn from mindfully practiced yoga asana, a stressor to stimulate growth or needed change. It isn’t stress that holds us back, but distress.
As for the kiwi vine, even if the birds get all the fruit, I still had the delightful scent of the flowers.
When I pause to think about it–something I try to do consistently with the fruits of technology–it is an extraordinary marvel that I can be telling stories to the world from a little device I am holding in my hand, one that also has let me speak and exchange notes while I am away from home with friends, colleagues, and business connections.
What I cannot do (more likely because I haven’t yet learned how than it is not possible) is to be my usual careful self when posting entries. I have not done hyperlinks to attrbute my sources, nor have I spell-checked. At home, I would not hit the “publish” button without doing those things.
Under the circumstances of being away from my regular computer, my library, the ability to check my references, and to provide proper citation, but being brimful with enthusiasm for being with my teachers, colleagues, friends, and the practices while I am at the teachers’ gathering, it seems better to post than not, using the means at hand. I sacrifice some of my usual discipline to share the joy.
All of life is like that. We may have ideals of what is proper, what are our standards for appearance, for work, for sharing a meal or our homes. When circumstances limit our ability to meet our own standards, it is part of the yoga to see whether the standards are binding us or serving to help us better connect. I believe that we should always strive to be more precise, more technically accomplished, better able to convey a sense of grace and beauty. But that effort should not cut us off, bring us to a halt, disempower us, prevent accomplishment of things. Most of all, it should not deaden a sense of spontaneity of gesture–the part of art and relationship that reveals our true spark.
