Peaceful Daily Blog

Jar Head

If there’s one thing I love, it’s a nice reused jar. Maybe it’s my dislike for blatant waste or maybe it's just another neurotic quirk...whatever the reason, I cannot seem to throw out a jar. They seem so durable, so useful, so...precious.  So whenever a jar is emptied of its original contents, rather than tossing it in the recycling bin, I opt instead for adding it to my collection. I simply let the jar soak in a bowl of water for a few days until the label disintegrates, sterilize it in the dishwasher, and store it with its lid for future use.

I first noticed my penchant for jars many years ago, at a garage sale in Wyoming, where I stumbled upon an enormous box of brand new pint-size canning jars. I was surprised at my own giddiness as I quickly, almost greedily, swept them up and paid for them immediately. When arriving home, I wondered just what, exactly, did I plan to do with 24 mason jars? I hadn’t entered the world of canning yet, so finding a use for my new treasure was initially a challenge.

I have since found many uses for jars old and new, though my hands-down favorite is for dry goods storage. My pantry shelves burst with jars of all sizes, each proudly displaying its contents of beans, grains, nuts, dried fruits, herbs,  spices, powders, sugars, salts, and any number of cooking mixes. Another favorite use is for freezing leftovers---at any given time, my freezer boasts half a dozen or so jars of surplus soups and sauces patiently awaiting their eventual consumption. By the close of the growing season, the freezer will overflow with even more surplus delights, including pumpkin purees, pestos, and tomato sauces, all made from my garden’s offerings and packed lovingly in the appropriate-sized, reused jar to be enjoyed throughout the year. 

In addition to canning and food storage, there is a treasure trove of uses for which the jar is perfect, including storing crafts, hardware, homemade body scrub and shampoo, as well as homemade cleaning products. I use them frequently in the place of drinking glasses and small bowls. They are the perfect little vase or, when filled with sand, a charming candle holder. I send home leftovers in them, and if they’re not returned, no sweat, I have a ton more and they were free anyway. As I phased out plastic bags and tupperware, I found jars to be the perfect replacement: they won’t leach chemicals into my stored goods and they can be washed over and over again without showing wear. And they’re surprisingly hard to break, though my children put their best feet forward in attempting to do so. If they do break, no sweat, there’s a million more in the garage just itching to be useful.

So before you ready yourself to recycle yet another glass jar, take a moment to admire its pefection and purposefulness...maybe, just maybe, it will manage to work itself into your heart, or at least back into your life.

Peace,

Annie

Broken Leg

There is this guy who breaks his leg really bad.  He wound up in the hospital with his leg up in the air like you see in an old cartoon.  Very vulnerable.  After a nap, the fellow wakes up to see he has a new roommate.  His roommate was not a lucky as he was.  The roommate had both legs amputated after a freak accident.  

Well, broken leg guy was so grateful that his leg was not as injured as the guy next to him.  What did he have to complain about?  Poor guy in the next bed had is so much worse!  

With that thought he went to get up and walk out of the hospital.  As soon as he stood, he collapsed and fell in pain to the ground, only making his condition worse.  After all, his leg was broken.

While it is true that we are blessed, while it is true that there is always someone or something worse then our current pain, and while it is true that looking at the positive helps us recover, we sometimes need to acknowledge what it is that is broken in order for us to really heal.

I know I struggle with honoring pain, often thinking if I treat it as small or trivial it will go away.  I am learning that witnessing my suffering helps make me see now truly blessed I am.  Witnessing helps me heal.

Namaste

Krissy

Frozen

I missed the wedding of one of my best friends this summer. The reasons? I had just quit my stable job and was afraid the trip would break the bank.  Plus, I was buried under so much homework and so many tasks that I barely had time to breathe – I was afraid to spend three days away from home and fall behind. Rational, sure. The decision made tons of sense. But it felt … well … yucky.

I haven’t written in a long time. A LONG time. And writing’s my thing – it’s what I do. It’s how I get stuff out of me and into the world. What has staunched the flow of words that normally come through me like the stream of water I hear trickling from the gorgeous fountain on the Owning Pink altar in this very moment? When I dig beneath all of the excuses that center mainly on how “busy” I’ve been (even during my two week vacation in the silent woods of Maine – I know, what? Three cheers for rationalization), I come face-to-face with the thing that’s been damming the river of inspiration. Once again: I’ve been afraid.

Afraid of what? Well, I’ve been doing a lot of work around self-exploration and discovery. I’m spending all the moments of my life that’s doing work that’s really important to me (hence the risk of letting myself down). I’ve needed to ask myself real questions and haven’t always liked the answers. In order to grow I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of my life that I thought I’d buried for good and wouldn’t have to revisit. Relationships are being examined in a new way. I’m saying hello to a lot that’s unrecognizable, and goodbye to the old and cozy.

Why in my right mind would I want to write about any of this? What if my oldest friends see a side of me they never knew? What if I hurt my family by writing about something I don’t like about myself, perhaps born of our relationship? What if my boyfriend is embarrassed by me sharing too much? What if my clients (colleagues, employer) lose faith in me when my vulnerability is hung out like so many socks on a clothesline? Again … makes perfect sense. But … the feeling. The feeling …

We often hear about someone being paralyzed by fear. The image that comes immediately to my mind is the deer-in-headlights stance assumed by the chick in the horror movie as the guy lunges at her with the machete while everyone in the audience screams “RUN, you twit!” But for those of us who have ourselves been paralyzed by fear can attest to the fact that it does in fact feel life-threatening – not “life” in the sense of survival, but rather of aliveness. Fear has that power to drain the spirit right out of our bodies, leaving us corpse-like.

Because really, what comes of this focus on the What Ifs? On the fear? A whole lot of, well, nothing. I just don’t go there. I let the fears get so big that I back down. I freeze. I stop doing what I want to do – stop living, really. That’s what fear can do to us. DOES do to us.

So what’s the alternative? Is there one? Of course. We always have a choice. I’ve been finding lately that the only choice we do have is where to put our focus. In the case of fear, we can focus perhaps on its opposite – love. In any given situation, for everything there is to fear, there is something to love. Here’s the thing: fear is born in our heads, and is often a composite of all we’ve been taught and told. Love comes from somewhere else – somewhere more ancient, more true, and far bigger than we can possibly imagine.  There’s a fabulous quote I carry around with me and heave onto anyone who will listen: “the mind is a wonderful slave, but a terrible master.” Our minds are supposed to carry out a will that comes from a deeper truth. What it’s not supposed to do is call the shots.

Anyway, I wonder – and will always wonder, especially when I look at the pictures of what was clearly an amazing time and happy reunion of all my girlfriends – how things would have shaken down if I’d focused solely on the fact that I love my friend. Love her family. Love how happy she is. What if I concentrated only on my desire to celebrate with her, instead on what I would theoretically miss and lose? I’m quite certain I would have gone, enjoyed, savored, LIVED and, upon returning, re-inserted myself into a life that was – that is – flowing exactly as it should.

And as for writing, I am fortunate to have teachers and peers who value the idea of creating a safe space for words to emerge, however they will. I gathered with just such a group this weekend and wrote the truth about myself, in all its newness and nakedness and not-so-niceness.

Yes, I have the luxury of this group, but we all have these safe spaces in our lives. Often it’s not a physical place, nor does it necessarily involve other people. You know you’ve found that space when it’s accompanied by that warm, fuzzy feeling – the feeling of love. The feeling that you are doing the thing that makes you feel alive, authentic, and fulfilled. Perhaps the inner knowing that you are spreading an important message can be the safe space away from the fear of speaking in public. The warmth and acceptance you always feel from your extended family could be the refuge from your fear of getting on a plane to go see them. Your fear of riding a roller coaster might be nothing in the face of the powerful feeling of joy you experience while in a hands-in-the-air, giggling free-fall.

Next time you stand paralyzed in the face of fear, take note of the sensations in your body. Where is the fear coming from? Is your head telling you not to move even though your gut is saying “go, go, go?” Be aware of the origin of the messages. Tap into your truth. I can guarantee you that in that place, there is no fear.

Peace,

Joy

Salutations to the Sun

Last time, I discussed the concept of vinyasa krama, which is the construction of a series of asanas that lead to a specific goal. The Western understanding of vinyasa, I noted, is the linking of postures with breath. Surya Namaskara, or Sun Salutation, is a specific sequence of poses that are linked together with breath and serves as the foundation for many vinyasa or “flow” yoga classes. There are many variations of Surya Namaskara, but what follows is a fairly common version of Salutations to the Sun. The breath sequence is included alongside the physical actions; the two are inseparable and the breath should be seen as the equal to the physical.

 

1. Stand in Tadasana.

2. Inhale as you raise the arms to Urdhva Hastasana.

3. Exhale as you fold forward to Uttanasana.

4. Inhale as you place the hands on the floor next to the feet.

5. Exhale as you step the feet back to Plank (there is no Sanskrit name for this pose, as it is an intermediate asana in the sequence; I fond it valuable to remain in the pose and find it beneficial, even if there is no agreed upon Sanskrit translation!).

6. Inhale to firm the arms and legs.

7. Exhale to lower down to the floor.

8. Inhale to Bhujangasana.

9. Exhale and shift back to Adho Mukha Svanasana.

10. Take three full breaths in Adho Mukha Svanasana.

11. Inhale to step the feet forward between the hands.

12. Exhale to straighten the legs for Uttanasana.

13. Inhale to rise up to Urdhva Hasatasana.

14. Exhale and release the arms to Tadasana.

Repeat the sequence for a total of six salutations*.

 

*For beginners, three rounds may be sufficient. The salutations are most often performed in multiples of three, representing the Holy trinity of Siva, Vishnu and Brahma.

 

Sun Salutations are so named as they were a seminal part of the morning practices of Brahman priests. I agree that practicing them first thing in the morning is an excellent idea: there is a great stretch of the body, an awakening of the breath (and awareness of the prana) and the mind is focused by the actions. Practiced at any time during the day, however, the yogi will gain great benefits from Surya Namaskara. In flow or vinyasa classes, the salutations serve first as a warm-up for more strenuous or deep asanas. Then, poses are added to the sequence or variations of Surya Namaskara are performed to deepen the practice. An infinite number of poses can be inserted at different segments of the sequence, depending upon what one hopes to achieve through the asana; this is the true vinyasa krama, or directed practice, of which I spoke in the last posting.

 

Remember: the breath is key to the sequence. As you inhale to Urdhva Hastasana, for example, allow the movement of the arms to match the length of the breath. This breath-focus will help to cease the chattering of the mind and will create a moving meditation of sorts as the body rides the wave of breath and is fully supported by the pranic energy.

 

I am aware that I have not covered the specific actions of each individual pose in Surya Namaskara. Next time, we will look at Bhujangasana, or Cobra Pose.

 

Peace!

Trent

 

The Final Good bye

At the time of my mother's death a decision was made for me that I choose to accept. Some where far away from my grief and yet very much a part of it a decision was cast that I would no longer entertain conversations that didn't ask something of me. Something fresh, creative, vulnerable, beautiful, courageous, thought and something dangerous to my ego (or perhaps to that of society) must be called into the  conversation. For conversation is life. It is engagement. It is the "stuff" relationships are forged from.

No longer could I chat idly with a martini in one hand and dribble pouring from mouth and a mind disengaged. No longer could I care for avoiding intimacy in even a stranger I'd never see again. Too much would be lost in these precious moments with chit and chat. Relationships mattered more -as much with a passerby in a fleeting moment as with an old friend. What was once a fledgling moment was no full of possibility and opportunity for what I did not know except perhaps something richer than I had allowed of myself or others. With death each moment counts and so with life too.

That either fertile ground that would be toiled by the human of spirit or that I would quietly die because of the absence of one's heart touching mine was now too painful to pretend wasn't happening. Each time pretense postured itself as the topic of conversation I used death's swift hand to bury it to search for some treasure I'm was sure lurked nearby.

Watching my mother's passage from this place to the next life lit a smoldering patch of sage brush inside my soul. At the scent of the sweet herb was fired up I danced a new dance, bowed to a higher more courageous one and have learned new meanings of love that Hafiz wrote of.

I thought I was saying good bye to my mother. That was the illusion. The reality was she was leading me into a closure I desperately needed. Her death was my death to those things not of love and matter. Her death is  my re-awaking, my right of passage.

Now with no parents I become the parent. No longer the child I stand as the grown one; the adult in the room waiting to talk with whomever passes by.

Food Inc.

A must for everyone to see!

www.foodincmovie.com

A moment in the rush

Sitting on the train headed toward Manhattan at rush hour.  It is a mixture of folks whose lives would never coincide without something like a train.  A train somehow funnels these lives living in parallel planes, never touching, into one integrated linear path.

The Bar Car provides a reason for both the young rowdy Yankees fans and the "it has been a long day" crowd to stagger through the aisles.  Cell phone conversations rise and fall like the tide of hustle and bustle: client calls, child care check-in, he said-she said clings heavy in the air.  Then there is the mayor of the train who grows in volume as his court hangs on every off-colored joke-laughing --- not as much at his wit but at a chance to rebel against political correctness.

Ticket collectors announce what they want as far away as possible to avoid eye contact.  After all, you have heard what they want, it should be ready and waiting.  The noise and the chatter pulse louder as the wheels grind against the tracks as if they were begging for oil.

And in the middle of it all a baby cries.

This baby cries one of those perfect baby cries.  Melodic and soothing.  Somehow it becomes all you can hear through the thickness.  It is not shrill or course.  It is not whining or demanding.  It is simple.  It is letting the world know that he is here.  It communicates that we all have needs that are very basic: food, water, health and ...love.  It is the sound of being human.  The rest is just noise. 

Namaste

Krissy

Internet Lament

We just returned from our annual family ranch vacation, and are slowly re-adjusting to real life, or “the labor camp” as my husband likes to call it. Aside from the daily maid service and enjoying meals prepared by someone else, there are many things I dearly miss: early morning hay rides, afternoon egg collecting, and seeing my children playing outside from morning until evening (and sleeping like logs each night). 

I also miss having limited access to the internet. 

I didn’t realize the extent of my internet usage until this trip, and I am reluctantly realizing that  I have allowed the internet to fill more and more of my beloved, precious unfettered time.  I do absolutely everything on the internet, legit things like pay bills, take classes, enroll in activities, plan vacations / parties / events, buy groceries / gifts / supplies / and so on. Did I mention research? Hours of it on whatever short- or long-term kick I’m on at any given time, perhaps heirloom chicken husbandry, humane pest management, vintage trailer restoration, building a natural pool / house / earthen oven by hand, and so on. These research kicks are additionally fed by the dozen or so related Yahoo Groups I belong to, each resulting in outrageous amounts of email that I check regularly.  I admit to partaking in the occasional and less legit, perhaps escapist, pursuits like searching for my dream home overseas that I have no intention of buying or searching for my dream job overseas to which I have no intention of applying. 

I’ve often prided myself on the fact that I fill my precious "me time"-allotted evening hours with meaningful activities, and make a concerted effort to keep television and house work out of it.  Now I’m realizing that I may need to make a concerted effort to keep the internet out of it as well...okay, that may be going to far, but I certainly need some better boundaries. Do I really need to check my email more than once a day? How much Facebook socializing do I really need? And how much research is too much? When is enough enough? 

In discussing my need for better internet boundaries with my best friend, Lisa, she suggested I try this  approach: leave my laptop purposefully unplugged and when the battery runs out, that is my cue to move on to other activities. Preferably activities involving parts of my body other than my eyes and fingers and brain. Non-activities like taking a hot bath...lying in the grass...swinging in the hammock...staring at the ceiling...even sleeping...anything that involves a meditative, perhaps vegetative, state. 

Inspiration tends to come precisely during such meditative states, or any state where the brain is more or less turned off, or at least tuned out. Such states provide renewal, rest, stillness, even clarity. It may look unproductive, even lazy, from the outside, but what it does for the inside is invaluable. Sometimes being unproductive is, well, productive.

Time for me to turn off the computer and be...productive.

Peace,

Annie

Most heart attacks occur on Monday's @ 8:00 am

At the Hour of Nine

At the hour of

nine a.m.

in all the locales of the world

We strive to give our offerings to one another.

 

Caught in the malaise of the promise not received we covet a small hope placed carefully in our jacket pocket

 

Hope left alone, untouched by our memories sits patiently for our hand to cradle it once more.

 

Once and again someone mysterious one comes to us

Against our strongest will our mystery guest points to our pockets daring us to touch in

 

They will deny her existence. We tell him we are not interested but it is in vain.

The mystery that once was ours, the hope that still is, has spoken –

However gently but echoes resound with the darken cave and we are forced to hear her repeat herself.

 

Some will obey her voice; they will commit treason against reason and logic

They will set a new path and sing the song of their soul.

 

Others will deny the sound of the voice. They will drown it out with the hum of busyness.

 

Never really knowing the voice, the guest and they are one in the same.

Vinyasa Krama

When you look at a schedule of classes at your local yoga studio, you will find numerous styles of yogasana listed in either the title or the description of the classes. Trying to figure out just what all of these names mean can be quite a task, especially if there are “specialty” classes with new-fangled names; I have seen Nexxus Yoga, Pacific Yoga and Awareness Yoga, to name a few. I honestly could not tell you what type of practice would be happening in any of these classes. 

One of the titles you will find in many places is Vinyasa Yoga. Although the name is as obscure to some as Nexxus Yoga, let me try and describe the origin of the name and shed some light on how Western yoga has adapted this concept to make it more palatable for the masses. 

The term vinyasa krama is found in the Yoga Sutra and addresses the construction of a yoga practice that has a goal in mind, so that the postures build upon one another until you reach a predetermined state. Krama means, “step,” nyasa means, “to place” and the prefix vi means, “in a special way;” altogether, “steps placed in a special way.” As nascent yoga instructors, we learn how to sequence poses so that a certain goal is reached, starting with easier poses as a sort of warm-up, the class progresses toward more difficult postures. These are not random by any means and a teacher worth his salt uses the sequence to focus on a certain few body parts and physical actions. At what I call the “apex” of the class, a very difficult, perhaps advanced asana is practiced, now that the body, mind and breath have warmed up and are open to a more extreme challenge.

The modern, western definition of vinyasa deviates from the traditional concept. To begin with, vinyasa yoga is often used interchangeably with “flow yoga,” where the poses are moved through with great fluidity, paying attention that the breath and poses are linked. Perhaps the frequent use of Surya Namaskara, or Sun Salutation, in these classes has led people to believe that a vinyasa class must flow (more on Surya Namaskara later) and is ineffective if it become more static; you can expect to sweat and the heart rate will be elevated. I agree that the Sun Salutation is a great tool for warming up the body, loosening the joints and connecting to the breath, but it is by no means the only sequence that shapes vinyasa krama. Furthermore, the term vinyasa has actually come to mean “a series of postures linked together by the breath.” This opens up a world of possibilities for linking poses together, which I think is great: standing straight up in tadasana, inhaling to raise the arms (urdhva hastasana), exhaling to fold forward (uttanasana) and then inhaling back to urdhva hastasana before exhaling to tadasana is a simple “vinyasa” sequence in the modern parlance. I am sure that many of you will note that this is the first and last segment of Surya Namaskara! You may choose to link any number of poses together, making certain to inhale for one move, exhaling for another, and this may be construed as a vinyasa or flowing yoga. The downside, however, is that the traditional-and useful!-notion that the poses lead to a certain goal may be lost as one just grabs poses together without a particular aim in mind. As my mentor once said, it is this awareness and mental aspect of yoga which differentiates it from mere calisthenics.

I believe that yoga is ever evolving and as we customize the practice for our own needs and goals, the traditional elements, such as those outlined in the Yoga Sutra, cannot help but change. I submit to you, however, that it is helpful to know the basis of “traditional” vinyasa so that when we compare it to our modern, western vinyasa practice, we might enjoy the riches that both have to offer.

Next time, I will go through the poses and breath for Surya Namaskara.

Peace!

 

Trent