| | | | |

View from the Window (Rainy Day)

Afghanistan Lebanon Dreamers Haiti

Wildfires Hurricanes Earthquakes

Ebola Plague Delta-Variant

Vaccine Refusers

Etc

As long as I am well fed in my comfortable home, far better, when I am not actively working/serving, to garden and meditate and study and try to create some joy than to wallow in hopelessness. And make a little art to remind myself of beauty.

Similar Posts

  • | | | |

    July Greetings–Ultimate Freedom (and Some Free Yoga) (Web Version of E-Newsletter)

    Dear Friends,

    It is Saturday morning of Independence Day weekend.  I have sat for my morning meditation, watered the garden, pet the cats, and done a few errands around the house.  In an hour or so, I will be heading up to Willow Street to teach my noon class.  As I take the time to care for garden, cats, house, and prepare to teach, I have been contemplating the concept of freedom.

    In the tantric shaivite tradition, we are taught that one of the key aspects of spirit is svatantriya — ultimate freedom.  We are also taught that we are ourselves inseparable from spirit, just as a drop of ocean water is no less part of the ocean for being a drop.  Spirit chooses, out of its freedom and play (lila) to embody itself in forms that are limited in space and time.  One of our greatest sources of suffering is feeling bound, thinking that we are stuck with who and what we are in the constraints of this mortal body, with all its quirks, forgetting our own auspiciousness.

    I could get grumpy about the need to do errands and to teach on a holiday weekend.  I could feel constrained from my usual activities around town by the combination of single-tracking on the Metro and the influx of tourists for the activities on the Mall, the combination of which will likely add an hour’s communiting time to teach today and to do volunteer work in Georgetown tomorrow at the Lantern Bookshop.  I could choose instead to be grateful that I have a house that needs caring, a garden to water, a class that gives me great joy and abiding satisfaction to share the incredible yoga principles that have so enhanced my own life, and volunteer work that I have enjoyed for over 15 years.

    I am not going to be telling anyone that we are without limitation, being as we are in time and space.  We are always and perfectly free, however, to choose to turn towards the auspicious, the light, the good, the uplifting, the highest or we can turn away.  We can act in ways that bring us ever more in alignment with spirit , or we can act in ways that take ourselves and that in our orbit farther from the good.  The more we exercise our freedom to turn towards the auspicious, the happier and healthier we will be, regardless of the fact of life in a mortal body.  That choice is our true freedom and the way to our hearts.

    To help you experience svatantriya, to choose freedom of heart, there’s nothing better than some free yoga.  The weekend of July 15-17, Willow Street Yoga will be offering it’s summer free class weekend. I’ll be offering gentle/therapeutics at noon on July 16th in Takoma Park.  Preference is giving to new students and to returning students who have brought new students with them.

    For July at William Penn House, I’m offering a two-part freebie:  (1) brand new students get first class free; please invite your friends and neighbors; (2) if you are an existing student who brings a new student with you, you get a free class when the new student comes back for a second class.

    Have a wonderful Independence Day, however you choose to celebrate and see you soon.
    Peace and light,

    Elizabeth

  • | | | | | |

    Spring Greetings–Embracing Change (web version of e-newsletter)

    Dear Friends ,

    Greetings to all in this strange, but glorious Spring.  As I sit down to write, I cannot help but recall that in my new year’s letter, I wrote of the practice in some Indian temples of cracking open a coconut to symbolically break open the head to get out of old living patterns that do not serve us.  I blithely wrote how blessed I was that in having taken myself to India, I was intentionally choosing to be challenged, while recognizing that we don’t always get to pick when challenges will come.  Less than two weeks after I returned, my family gathered to visit my father who was in the hospital for a hip replacement (he’s healing well).  Only a couple of weeks after that, the Anusara yoga community was turned topsy turvy,.  When I wrote of choosing to break myself open to discover new paradigms and possibilities, little did I know what was going to happen to the yoga community that has been and continues to be such an important part of my life.

    Even Spring is not behaving according to settled expectations.  It burst forth especially early–the cherry blossoms are already gone and azaleas and roses are blooming almost a month early.  Records were set around the country for the warmest March on record, and we are approaching drought conditions (again) in the Washington metropolitan area.

    Not surprisingl for one who likes things to be settled and secure, while admiring the wild blooming around me, I have been thinking about how disconcerting change can be.  For someone who prefers warmer weather to winter, getting Spring early is delightful, but I cannot help but recognize that it has come with disastrous storms and high risks for farmers and our food sources, evidence of the fraying relationship between our populous society and the earth.  What is a gardener, a yogi, and a member of society to do?

    As a gardener, it is necessary to remember old teachings and methods (for example, just because it was prematurely warm does not mean that the danger of last frost is earlier than in other, colder years), but it was also necessary to plant and tend the garden earlier to make sure that cool weather plants, such as greens and snow and sugar snap peas, actually have an opportunity to grow.  The erratic weather is also serving as a reminder to try and shift to be more in alignment with the forces of nature and to contribute less to global climate change.  In a word, a true gardener, like the dedicated yogi (on and off the mat) will rely on the lineage of teachings and experience, continue to be fully engaged without giving up, be adaptable to the vagaries of season–both serendipity and calamity, and seek to live in a way that fosters the good in oneself and all beings.

    It is going with the flow, but in an active and intelligent way.  In this time of uncertainty, I believe that an ever deeper and more open study and practice of yoga is a great gift.  Yoga when practiced sincerely and in community provides us opportunities to connect more deeply and techniques to turn unsought changes into opportunities for growth and transformation.  In that light, in my own yoga offerings to you, there is both stability and change:

    The big change in my yoga classes is moving my long-running gentle/therapeutics class at Willow Street to Friday nights.  I am very excited about this shift.  On a personal level, it gives me free weekends for the first time in six years, which will give me more time and space to study, practice and explore.  For you, I intend that the class will now be a perfect transition from the work week to the weekend, fostering and enhancing the ability to heal and celebrate.  Those who like things to be steady can still expect the same full hour and a half of nurturing, alignment-based, therapeutic poses and restorative practices.  Registration for the full session is preferred, but drop-ins are always welcome.  New to the class and want to know what it is about?  Please come join me on Friday, April 13th, as part of free class week.

    The Tuesday night all levels group practice at William Penn House continues.  As always, a portion of the proceeds support the work of William Penn House, and if you cannot pay the suggested donation ($12-15), do not let that keep you away.  We want to make the yoga available to those who truly seek it.

    I hope to see many of you soon.  Please feel free to be in touch by email or Facebook message when you cannot make it to class.  For in-between newsletter information, please “like” my “Rose Garden Yoga” page on Facebook, and there are always new photographs and musings about yoga on and off the mat on the blog.

    Peace and light,

    Elizabeth

  • A Hawk

    I saw a hawk when I was walking to work this morning.  It was in one of those stately oak trees in the park just north of the US Capitol.  I have occasionally seen hawks in the neighborhood alleys, but never one at the Capitol.  The hawk stood out for two reasons:  it was very large, and it was the only living being about.  Usually, there are a number of squirrels, pigeons, and maybe crows, sparrows, and common grackles about the park.  This morning, it was unearthly quiet; all of the other animals and birds were all in hiding.  It was probably a red-tailed hawk.  As I stood to watch this special being, a woman walked past me with her head hunched down, her hands shoved in her pockets, her briefcase weighing down her shoulder, and her face preoccupied, a common going to work look.  I called out to her, “look, a hawk.”  She was startled, maybe even a little upset at first that I had interrupted her thoughts, but then she, too, stopped and watched.  When I finally continued on to work, she stayed watching for a while, and she no longer looked preoccupied.  At the bottom of the steps of the park, I went past the police, who are there every morning with their cars parked on the sidewalk (blocking the way).  The police rarely say hello.  One of the cops, who had his dog out of the car, called out a good morning to me today, though.  I greeted him back, “good morning, did you see the hawk?”  “Yes, I’ve been watching it,” he said.  We had a nice chat about the hawk and about his being able to watch the bald eagles at Blue Fields in Virginia, where they do the training for the police dogs.

    It would have been easy for me not to see the hawk.  I use my morning walk as a time for contemplation, and when I am in the park (leaving aside the Architect of the Capitol vehicles that sometimes intrude), it is a time I can be less careful about traffic and be more inward.  But it is also a time to look and to appreciate the opportunity to be outside, whatever the weather and the season.  The trees and birds and small animals and plantings and sky look different everyday.  While I go inward on my morning walk, I am also always noticing.  This is a kind of mindfulness — to be able to be resting with inward attention, but still be open to observing whatever is in view.  Is it less mindful to be so drawn inward that the outside disappears?  That perhaps depends on whether one has deliberately gone so far inward that the outside ceases to exist for a time, which is a meditation method, or whether one is just so preoccupied with the churning of the mind that one becomes less conscious.

  • | | | | |

    What Are You Going to Do?

    Now is not the time for avoidance or passivity. What can you do or do more? Who are you going to support? These are the questions for an engaged yogi. Meditation, asana, and pranayama are life balance and support not ends in themselves for a householder yogi.

  • | | |

    Have You Ever Seen a Woman Use a Leaf Blower?

    There hasn’t been a day in the past two months when I haven’t needed to cover my nose, mouth, and ears because I needed to walk past someone using a leaf blower.

    They stink with burning fuel, stir up allergens, and aren’t really any more efficient than a rake and a broom. Why are they so ubiquitous? And why is that I have never seen a woman using one, but I have seen men of all races, ages, and socio-economic status cheerfully using one?

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

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.