Let it be

Some things take time.  And there is no predicting how long, or what it will feel like.  ”Should” goes out the window.  Just allow.  And then one day, one moment, suddenly you are in a new place.  It doesn’t mean whatever you are going through is done, just that something shifted.  Making room for, allowing, inviting, another way of being in.

Life

Is amazing.  Even when it seems like it sucks.  There is always some silly thing, some moment of peace, some cat sleeping on your chest to remind you.  Even when the shit times last, or you think you’ve beaten them by drinking/drugging/smoking/partying just to slow down and see that none of that changes anything.  The only thing that matters is what is underneath.  Love.  Is always there.  If you are willing to be quiet.  And feel xx

Tipping point

There comes a time when your relationship with your animal companions shifts. When it switches from them caring for you – welcoming you when you come home, accompanying you on walks, reading at the beach, and wandering through galleries – to you caring for them. When they can no longer run with you to the post-office, jump into the bed, or sleep in that extra hour (or two or three) because they move slowly and with care, or need to get up – to go out, drink water – and you change to accommodate them. Because they have been so good to you for so many years. And you love them. It is a natural switch, not a sacrifice. One you realize only after you have made it. For love. For friendship. For grace. Every day.

Celebration

Yesterday was Nessa, my labrador retriever’s, 15th birthday. She is REALLY old for a lab, and I have this acute awareness that we are on borrowed time. And I am deeply grateful for every day that I have with her. Because there is not a day that we are together, that she doesn’t teach me – to be present, to be content, to be amazed, to be open to possibilities, to love unabashedly. So I threw her a Quinceanera – a full-on 15th birthday party with her dog and people and little-people friends, filled with fun, Mexican foods, a pinata, and gourmet doggie pastries (thanks Nina!). Everyone was there for her, and she knew it. Last night on our walk, she moved with a little more spring in her step. xx

Essence

Birds are singing outside. And since I’ve stopped the music blasting on the stereo, I can hear them. Singing.

Ahimsa

I recently felt/saw/experienced just how hard on myself I am. Twisting. My shoulders are going through some things right now, so I can’t weight-bear on my arms. But twists – I LOVE them (I also am twisty, so that helps …). Doing twists without my arms enabled me to see how hard I push. How much I use my arms as levers to wring (wrench) my spine to squeeze all my organs, so that the blood comes rushing back in. To stop the twist once I felt it in my shoulders changed everything for me. It brought it inside in a new way. Awareness. Kindness. Non-judgment. Today. xx

Step back

It really is amazing how much you can learn when you lay off yourself for a bit. Accepting a limitation, and instead of berating it, pushing to the limit of your comfort every day – to just really step back and lay off. For me, with my shoulder(s) it has taught me that it is ok to be where I am and that just because things aren’t what I expected or I’m not where I imagined I’d be, that there is still a lot to be gained and learned from where I am. I still don’t know exactly what is going on in my shoulders – structural, emotional, repetitive stress – or some combination of all three. But not practicing in the same way, allowing myself to not use them for a bit, and exploring what else can be done when not using them and staying with where I am has been a challenge but so far rewarding because – without this situation – I’d never have eased up on myself enough to explore these softer, more intimate spaces.

Vastness

Sometimes it seems so overwhelming. The problems in the world – food, the environment, poverty, health, water, torture, war, species depletion, homelessness, hatred, the economy, access to healthcare, overcroweded animal shelters – they seem to go on and on and on and on. It is hard at times like these – when so many things are in such precarious shape to choose which one to focus on, because it invariably means that others you will not have the effort or hours (or even seconds) in the day to strive for. I don’t know how people want to be president and have to deal will all of these issues. For me it is overwhelming. I try to pick the ones that I think I can have the most impact. And believe that my efforts matter. Like voting tomorrow – after 2000 and 2004, it all seems a bit of a joke. That who will be sitting in the oval office next January has somehow already been determined. But if I don’t vote, I have no chance of being heard. And if I do vote – well, I know I voted … And I come back to the question of impact. Of a ripple in the ocean. One day, one person, one posture, one breath at a time. It sometimes doesn’t seem enough given what we are up against. But then, if everyone could breathe clean air, feel good in their bodies, and take a step back and allow themselves some time and perspective to contemplate prior to acting on the things that come up in their lives – maybe, just maybe, a lot of the things we are facing today will get a lot better. Or is that just how I rationalize my existence and the fact that I’m not trying to be a write-in candidate on super-Tuesday??

Dogs and children

If you have a dog, you always get the best part of the avocado. If you have a child – you spend your life eating the bruised sections. I used to feel bad for giving my dog the bruised part, thinking I was a bad “mother” but then I reminded myself that she eats horse poo from the trails, cat poo from the box, and who-knows-what-else when I’m not looking. I think about it every time I give her a bruised section. But I also have to admit that if she didn’t like it and wouldn’t eat it, I’d give her a non-bruised section. Kind of like how I barely have a corner of the bed now that she has taken to snuggling at night instead of staking out her own side or lying across my legs like she did when she was younger … (I am glad she doesn’t complain about the avocado, though …)

Snake skin

2008 has been a year of change. Starting with the juice feast, the reintegration of yoga as a central component of my life, coming back to chewing … and this following 2007 which – looking back – seems to have been a year of shedding – a relationship that was destroying both of us, a parasite cleanse, attachments to career mythologies, friends, family … It is also a year of openness, of adjusting, integrating, reintegrating, solidifying, honesty, peace, and love (not that I can guarantee any of that finds its way into national politics or policy – but individuals, one heart at a time, one talk, friend, pose, breath, hug, I can contribute to). Where the parasite cleanse rid me of period cramps (if this is TMI, stop now – but for many of us with the potential for giving birth, this is really cool information), the juice feast gave me my first cycle ever without bloating or breast tenderness. It did not rid me of insane dairy cravings (which I honored with more than a lovely cow or goat probably produced in the day – or even week – prior to when I consumed it), but I was almost surprised when the cravings came and my period started as the tenderness, bloating (I am one of those with a complete menstruation-wardrobe), and (what I thought was the) requisite under-the-skin-zit did not alert me to its arrival. The other thing that has seemed to shed is the need to prove myself to others. That I can shed the skin, the trappings, and find me inside. Again. And again. And again. That with every layer that falls away, more of me is revealed. On more days. At more times. More loving. More clear. More present. More raw. More real.