State of the Garden


Check out what comes up with an internet search for “slug spirit animal.” #persist

Tonight I will teach my last class at CHY’s current space after having taught nearly every Wednesday night for 5 1/2 years. I am deeply grateful to Marianna, Leyla, and Julie for having pulled together the community and continued yoga in the space when Dancing Heart moved, and to Stacey for joining them and keeping the fire brightly burning. I feel deeply fortunate for having been given the opportunity to teach at CHY while I went through my teacher training. I am also deeply thankful to all my CHY level 2 students who went through the Anusara certification process with me; the class that led to my ultimate certification was taught at CHY on the 10th anniversary of Anusara yoga.
I extend my gratitude to all the students who were with me on this path of expansion, exploration, and delight and who have taught me so much and shared of their hearts.
Although I feel a profound sense of loss with the Stanton Park studio closing — how will I know when to end class without Wilbur the dog letting me know it is time to end savasana? — I look on this as an opportunity for the community to coalesce in new ways, and for each of us to deepen the community and our practices. I regard all of you at CHY as my friends, as well as students and neighbors, and look forward to seeing you in yoga classes on the Hill in new spaces and at other events in the neighborhood.
E
This week I drafted, and today signed along with two witnesses, a living will. It has been on my “to do” list for a good 20 years, and I have been carrying in my wallet a card from the Society for the Right to Die (which no longer appears to exist) saying that I have a living will in my possession. Two things led me to get it done at this time. The first is my deeply held belief that privileging hospice is an important and mostly missing element of the health care debate. The second was witnessing a dear friend have the last few months of her life being attached to machines and receiving ever more painful medical intervention even with end stage cancer. I know that is not what I want.
This society gives you the medical care, though, whether you want it or not, if you do not say something loudly, clearly, and with technically the right jargon. I could not wait any longer. I did the research, drafted the document, spoke to my family and friends, and finally did it. It is hard to do. I am still anxious that I did not do it right or that in the end, should it come where the living will would be necessary, my wishes will not be honored. It is hard to think about death, illness, and accident. It is scary to approach legal documents that are so fraught with political and religious weight (a friend cautioned me to make sure I have lots of copies because of his experience of a nurse, who because of her religious doctrine, repeatedly “lost” copies of his mother’s directives when she was dying from advanced Altzheimer’s.)
The yoga helps me think about these things with some measure of equanimity. I have even heard teachers say that the whole reason for a steady practice is to be prepared for death and dying, so that we can go peacefully, comfortable with both our life and our death. Part of the yoga off the mat, in this regard, is recognizing how society is likely to behave, and what we need to do to be healthy within the confines of society.
A friend of mine who is an avid and wonderful knitter decided to make a shawl for a friend who is about to have surgery. Instead of whipping out a shawl herself in a few days, she invited other friends to knit squares and bring them to her. She is going to piece together the squares to create, in essence, a physical manifestation of a gentle, loving, communal embrace.
I loved this idea. Though I could not put name to face for the friend who is suffering (I think I would likely recognize her), to support my friend who is setting such a strong intention of sending healing, I am knitting a square or two with some beautiful handspun yarn leftover from a sweater several years ago.
As I knit, I am setting an intention to infuse the cloth with healing energy. In having been invited to participate in this project, I have been given the gift of a potent reminder of how strongly our attitude and intention in whatever we create and offer can shift how it goes forth into the world — whether it be gifts, practice, speech, food, work.
I spent nearly three hours talking with tech support just to get the phone authorized. And once that was accomplished, the guy helping me also was unable to figure out how to transfer my contacts from the old phone to the new. Last night, on the second full day, I opened every item in settings just to learn about this piece of technology and found another way to transfer contacts than tech support had tried. Hooray! I didn’t have to enter them manually one by one.
So it’s like this: no matter how brilliant a system, if I didnt learn how to use it, I wasn’t going to get any benefits. The more I studied and practiced, the more I would be able to use it in a way that enhanced my daily life. Although a teacher is necessary, it takes our own thorough, steady, and attentive practice to empower ourselves and expand our limits.
I had thoroughly resigned myself to typing. Now I will have more time to figure out how to resize photos. That may feel less urgent. It’s busy at work, and the garden, yoga mat, meditation cushion, library, and beautiful weather call me to them.