Listening
To the wind howl and rage, I understand (and listen to) the advice, if one is fortunate enough to be in circumstances to be able to follow it, to stay indoors on the lower levels of your dwelling, and away from the windows.
To the wind howl and rage, I understand (and listen to) the advice, if one is fortunate enough to be in circumstances to be able to follow it, to stay indoors on the lower levels of your dwelling, and away from the windows.
This week I have really noticed the light changing. When I start my morning meditation, the day is just dawning, not full daylight. The cat is not waking me up an hour before the electronic wake-up call, but is rather showing up just before it goes off (he is acting in sync with my routine rather than with the birds’). Even though the days are still hot, there are hints of autumn in the smell of the leaves and certain breezes. The first of the late summer fruits and vegetables are starting to come.
Are you noticing the subtle shifts? Has it changed what you want to practice and how you are feeling when you practice?
What’s a gardener and concerned for the trees and the health of the planet citizen to do? I’ve got enough water in the rain barrel to water the vegetables and herbs once or twice, but what impact does that really have? At work, people were grumbling because it was cloudy. They seemed shocked when I advised them that we are an inch under normal rainfall for August and have a fairly significant deficit for the summer despite the July rains.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could move some of the flood waters that have fallen only a couple hundred miles away to irrigate our fields without disrupting our eco-system? Part of me just wants not to know about the consequences of global climate change, but it is hard not to notice that all the weather patterns I used to know and understand do not seem to apply quite the same way anymore. What do we do when the systems and practices we have in place for our ease, comfort, well-being, and understood day-to-day peace of mind are disrupted?
Yoga will not fix the big outer problems, but it can provide us with the steadiness and ease needed to stay present and be flexible in the face of crisis, upheaval, or disease. It can also provide insight into how we can live in better alignment. In the meantime, I am practicing gratitude. I know how blessed I am that, so far, the wild upheavals I read about in the news have not kept me from all the food and comfort that a person could possibly want. And I pay attention, because to be ignorant ultimately never serves ourselves or others.
said the guy who is doing the exterior painting and repairs to me this morning, after we were talking about what needed to be done with the stairs, and we talked a little to the downstairs resident who was on his way out to work. Then he paused, after thinking about what he had seen of my house and garden and added, “unless it is cultivated.”
“Yes,” I replied, “it is cultivated.” I will never be completely easy-going, but at the same time as some might wish me more easy going, one of my strengths is my attention to detail and my ability to create order. I cultivate, though, an ease with necessary disorder — the disruptions that come hand-in-hand with construction, repairs, creation (art, kitchen, garden, home), growing relationships, and comfort where I am. We may not be able to change our nature, but we can make shifts that ease our being. Radical affirmation in yoga is accepting our tendencies, but then seeking shifts to make life even fuller.
In “Me and White Supremacy,” (see excerpt below), Layla Saad writes that “allyship is not an identity but a practice.”
How is your sadhana? Are you shifting it to recognize how you can most optimally participate in this turbulent time?
