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    Cat on the Hat

    My friend who was driving the car, pointed out the cat on the hat and asked if he should stop the car. I waffled; he encouraged. I already had my camera out in my lap, so it was nothing to run out of the car for the photo.

    The cat gave a purring grin (though he wouldn’t keep his face towards the camera, too busy was he looking at something down the street). The guy asked if I would give some money so that he and the cat could get something to eat. Sure; I was happy to give them a dollar for their offering.

    I thought about how much I appreciated being reminded of how we can use needing to get by, when getting by can be so challenging, to spur creativity and connection instead of letting it beat us down.
    cat on the hat

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    Receiving v. Taking Revisited

    Last Tuesday night class, I noticed that one of my students who had started out with very tight hamstrings fairly easily touched his toes at the beginning of class. He is an athletic guy who started yoga in his late 60’s. He first came only with his wife, who has been a regular student for a number of years. After a few months, he started coming even when she was out of town. He said that although it was hard and he does not always feel like coming, he always feels better afterwards, which inspires him to keep showing up.

    When I saw his easeful uttanasana–standing forward fold–I asked whether six months ago he would have thought this possible. He replied that he knew it would just take time. If he had pushed it, he would have just busted a hamstring.

    This was a great illustration of the class theme of receiving v. taking. If he had pushed or grasped at the poses that require hamstring flexibility, he would have just injured himself. By coming to class consistently and practicing with right effort, though, the openness came to him when it was time.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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    What’s For Breakfast?

    Snowpeas, tri-color beans. Peppers. Cherry tomatoes, basil (blueberries and strawberries did not make it out of the garden).

    A student asked me the other day why I garden–was it to save money, he asked, was it for better tasting food?

    It does save money to grow food and food eaten straight out of the garden is a foodie’s exquisite pleasure, but those are not my primary motivations.

    I garden for the delight it brings through all of my senses and for the joy of knowing that the garden never questions nurturing. The more I give the garden, the more it gives back, without question or judgment.

    I garden for the sense of relationship with the deeper seasonal patterns. To experience at an intimate level the impact on health and thriving of variations in seasons, light, heat, and rain.

    With the drought and extreme heat in our area, the garden is struggling. Peppers are fruiting before having gotten tall and full. Cucumbers are yellowing and drying, though a couple have grown large enough to eat. There is a surfeit of kale, but the snow peas, which prefer cool weather, barely had time enough to grow enough to flower before it was too hot to thrive.

    Part of the reasons some recipes have many ingredients is because they are premised on there not being enough of any one thing to make a meal. I am getting a few servings of vegetables every day, but the blasting heat is preventing the kind of abundance for some things I might have in another year. The grapes, though, may be outrageous; they like this crazy heat.

    I want to be conscious of these challenges and serendipities. I want to know how I might need to change and adjust to thrive in a world that is ever more out of balance. I garden because it helps me be aware of crisis and challenge, but always and first providing extraordinary pleasure and beauty.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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