Shadow and Light


For the past couple of weeks, I have been spending as much time as possible in the garden. When it is too rainy or cold to be in the garden, I have been doing indoor spring cleaning. As the days get noticeably brighter and longer, it is delightful to see the new growth in the garden and to polish my treasures and make room to use and enjoy what I have. I’ve been noticing how the first major activities in the garden make a mess. Inside, activities such as cleaning out the refrigerator and the closets also makes things seem messier before they they get cleaner. I’ve persisted, though, and now the garden is teeming with visible new life, unencumbered by the detritus of dead growth on the perennials or spent annuals from last year. With things I do not need given away or repurposed and things clean and repaired, I can more easily use and appreciate what I have in the house. It seemed like quite a mess for a while, though, when I was taking things off of shelves and out of drawers and closets in preparation for cleaning.
There can be phases in our sadhana –both asana practice and meditation and related practices — where all the practice seems to be doing is bringing up old stuff. It seems like we are more physically or emotionally challenged than we would have been if we weren’t practicing. The thought may cross our mind that we would be happier just going to the movies and going on an eating tour of Italy.
Although sometimes strong reactions can mean that a practice is not right for us (at a certain point in time or not at all — similar to a reaction to food), it can also mean that the practice is doing the equivalent of spring cleaning. Part of sadhana is learning how to react in a more optimal way to what manifests and arises from our practice. When a host of old memories or emotions arise or we press up against our limits by digging in deep physically to find where and how to rearrange our bones, muscles, sinews, and energy channels to clear an old injury, we have an opportunity to clear out and let go to make room for new growth. We don’t have to shove the stuff back into our mind-body closet or leave it where it obstructs new growth. The old patterns and memories come up in practice so we can either release them or change our relationship to them so they can become something that serves instead of weighing us down.
When I get into one of those messy spots, I remind myself how good I feel when I’ve done my spring cleaning, and I try to keep going forward, doing the best I can with the teachings I’ve been given. I admit that it is easier to persist because I love the actual activity of the practices (though the ones I need to do most can be the ones that are not my favorite, but that’s a whole other train of thought).
I was volunteering today at William Penn House, which was providing a comfort station for marchers during the day, as well as being full to capacity with guests.
I was doing some work in the office when a woman who looked about my age came who was in town with a group of women from Long Island for the March.
She came in to William Penn House for a bathroom, not because of any connection to Quakers or the house. But while she was waiting in line for the bathroom she ended up in conversation with the executive director, who said that the board member volunteering downstairs was also from Long Island–perhaps she knew me. It turns out that we went to the same elementary school and lived near enough to each other that we rode the same school bus.
It is just one of the reminders I’ve had this weekend of how connected we are.
This article about manners and eating with ones hands gave me a big smile. One of my friends who went on the second India pilgrimage wrote on Facebook right after she returned home that she missed wearing a sari and eating thali meals already. How wonderful the variety of experience on these journeys. Personally, I found the sari cumbersome and binding and not worth the prettiness of the fabric and the compliments (more thoughts on sari-wearing perhaps to come). I was thrilled to get back into my regular clothes (though I was happy enough in salwar kameez). Dal , kitcheree (spiced lentils and rice porridge), and vegetarian/vegan curries have long been a staple part of my diet, so I am already getting the rice and lentils, and the south Indian thali meal is almost completely devoid of vegetables. I was happy enough to get back to my own diet, including Indian-style food of my own preparation.
I am missing, though, being able to be in company and eat with my hands (or hand singular would be more accurate as it is horribly rude in India to eat with your left hand) and getting the chance to walk barefoot outside every day. Though you might not be able to do it everywhere, I highly recommend eating some of your food with your hands and walking without your shoes for some time every day to enhance your sense of touch and your motility.
Self-care is part of collective care, but only if it is in balance with active care of the collective.
This morning, before reading the news and working hard, I sat for meditation and put up lentil soup in the slow cooker.
