Last year I decided to bring this murti of Kuan Yin outside. I asked my neighbor if it was ok, as her parents came here from China, . My neighbor welcomed this presence in the space between our yards and also appreciated that I asked.
Instead of being able to walk into the office with the first thing scheduled a regular 10am conference call, this morning I have to be across town to appear on a panel discussion with the Director of my Office. This means I have to leave the house at least an hour earlier than I usually do. As I am heading into a more stressful workday than a typical one, skipping meditation and my morning walk would not be optimal.
I made sure I was out of bed the minute I got my wake-up call (currently Vedic chanting). It was the will to practice (the embodied, stepped down version of iccha shakti, which is the ultimate will to being) that got me into meditation cushion. It will be getting out of the house 20 minutes earlier that will give me the time to walk to a more distant bus or metro stop so that I feel invigorated and refreshed before the talk.
Sometimes we do not get into poses because we lack the will to do so. Keeping pelvic loop engaged requires will. Some people naturally love the feeling of keeping the buttocks engaged, the pelvic floor lifted, and the belly toned. Others (myself included) have to develop a keen sense of will to keep the lower torso engaged, to keep with and enhance the intensity of sensation and concentrated action. The more I practice, the more will I have to stay engaged because I have experienced that the challenge of staying intensely engaged is worth the lightness and freedom that ensues. For me, this is true in my yoga and meditation practice and in nearly everything else (which includes, sometimes, having the will to rest and relax).
Or just sat quietly? Or did some gentle stretches?
So said the meteorologist, when I called to check the weather yesterday before getting ready to go out for work. I thought, “it is easy to enjoy your day, ‘regardless of the weather’ living in a nice house with enough money for heating and cooling, working inside, and getting food flown in from wherever, if the garden isn’t doing well.”
I am awed and fascinated by the weather, although living this almost entirely protected and secure (from the elements, less so from other people) urban life, it is an almost vicarious relationship.
One of the reasons I love gardening is that it links what the weather — a rainy and cool spring like we are having; a drought, like we had for the past four years; violent thunderstorms; a snowy winter — with what food grows well, how my wildlife supporting little garden in the front thrives, helping to tie me back to the earth.
Sully and Uma have been here for 10 days. It’s true that the cat tree came with them, but it is amazing how quickly they adapted to a new space and a new person, given that they are middle-aged. Part of their resiliency is due to how affectionate they are and that they came together (though I suspect she would be happy as an only cat). I can definitely learn from witnessing them.
“You like looking at clouds, don’t you?” asked one friend, as we took a walk along the shore after the workshop on Lakshmi this weekend. Another added, “did you always see so many heart-shaped clouds?”
“Yes,” I answered the first. “I always have.” To the second, I note that although I did not pick them out so frequently before, they are often there to be seen for those who are paying sweet attention.
In the yoga theory of the rasas, very roughly, the same categories of emotions can either weigh us down or move us toward spirit, depending on intensity and the way we experience them. For example, grief and compassion are on the same continuum.
With that in mind, I ask what is the exhortation to “beware,” if we are mindful and not trapped by unnecessary fears, but a reminder that we will navigate life with less trouble if we consistently are aware.
