"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple."
~Dr. Seuss
Yesterday, the question was presented: "Why bother?" Indeed, the question was far more complicated than it looks, as there was plenty of background to go with it. The important part, to me, though, was the simplicity of the answer--which, of course, uses far more words in answer. The simplest answer would be, "You're right," followed by giving up the action.
I've learned so much, though, that tells me that if the question is "Why bother?" there must be lots to think about.
Why bother?
Well, because if I keep doing the rote, follow the forms, act out of habit, I am still getting something out of it. IF, that is, I allow myself. I myself sat, week after week, out of habit, until that little bit of faith -- that mustard seed, if you will -- found a reason to start working its way through my heart.
Yoga is a practice. In order to find the benefits of yoga, which include, but are not limited to, flexibility, mental and physical balance, and strength, one must keep at it. Keep pushing limits, keep breathing, keep learning. I never thought of all faith as involving similar practice. Like the muscle memory we need to do well in athletic contests or games, and that only comes with continuous drills and repetition, so is faith. In training at my new job, I am practicing the elements I have already learned, and I have already begun to do some of them without needing to refer to notes or call over a co-worker.
Why bother?
Because it might make a difference to me, in me.
Because it has made a difference in me. It just took a while.
Yet I totally understand that without the possibility there to begin with, the rote easily can become not only dull and boring, but also mind-numbing and unfulfilling: useless. That was the point of the question, and I know that. Ever the debater, though, I must find some other angle; especially in applying lessons to my own life and experience. It's my nature; what I was made to be. It makes people (including me) crazy sometimes, I know. But it's also how I learn, how I grow.
Why bother?
Because in the end, provided the heart and mind are open, the reward is great.
Showing posts with label yoga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yoga. Show all posts
Monday, December 10, 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
fears: pt. 3
Then there's my scariest fear: trucks on the highway. There's a possibility that came about when I was behind a truck that had a blowout. It causes him to fishtail all over the highway, with large pieces of rubber and a bunch of smoke everywhere. The thing is, I don't remember that scaring me a whole lot. I was driving the station wagon I had learned to drive in, and I was alone in the car--I even remember the landmarks around me, and that it was a beautiful, sunny day.
No, I think this fear started much later, and may even be related to the 'visions' I had associated with my (at the time undiagnosed) hypothyroidism. That would put the beginning somewhere in my early 20s, when I really started doing a lot of highway driving. For sure I can place it before I worked at a department store a half hour away, during the early bird shift. That's when I shared the fear with a friend I carpooled with occasionally, who then told me that truck drivers are probably the safest drivers on the road.
The really odd thing about this fear is how it come and goes. Truthfully, it hadn't bothered me for a while, even with the long summer commute I have, and the long trips I've been on, driving by myself. Then I saw a truck swerve a little, and straddle the line for about a mile, and it all came back: the panic I have to force down so I can concentrate on driving, and the white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Ever since, I am back to "the big lean" to the center of the car when my husband passes a truck, and my own speeding up after four deep breaths when I have to pass. (It's less of a problem for me when they pass me. Weird and inconsistent, I know--that's how I know it's not all that rational!) And all the while, I can see the same vision behind what my eyes are seeing.....
What is this vision? Put simply, me being squashed by a semi on the highway. The vision has always varied slightly, I think based on what size car I am primarily driving. When it was mostly a mini-van I was driving, I see me and my car pancaked against the jersey barrier (which also makes me have the irritated thought that it is a "jersey barrier" not a "new jersey barrier." See? Not rational!), and the truck just driving away, not even noticing. When I drive a smaller car, or when I was driving a station wagon, as the truck moves over to change lanes, it either runs right over the car, or the car becomes wedged underneath for a few miles. Either way, in my mind's eye, I hear a screeching of metal and tires, and I end up gone. Perhaps the fact that I have never seen myself dead in these visions is a positive, but I do know that I come out of the vision "knowing" that's how I'm going to die.
One summer, I had a similar fear, but of crossing bridges. Dad and Mom had decided we would vacation in Vermont, and I remember hiding on the floor of the car when we crossed one long, high bridge. My sister and our friend, Nancy, were trying to coax me out to see the view, my mother was exasperated, and my father felt terrible that he couldn't do anything about it but continue driving. Somehow, I seem to recall it starting as a joke, and ending up being a real fear that summer. Not afterwards, though--just on that trip.
None of this keeps me off the road, though. In fact, I love driving and taking trips in the car. Driving to Florida this summer was a wonderful treat, and I'm looking forward to a trip to Savannah in the next couple of weeks. Being on the road offers a different kind of freedom, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Trucks, you won't beat me! We'll just share the road.
But the moment you turn a corner you see another straight stretch ahead and there comes some further challenge to your ambition.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
No, I think this fear started much later, and may even be related to the 'visions' I had associated with my (at the time undiagnosed) hypothyroidism. That would put the beginning somewhere in my early 20s, when I really started doing a lot of highway driving. For sure I can place it before I worked at a department store a half hour away, during the early bird shift. That's when I shared the fear with a friend I carpooled with occasionally, who then told me that truck drivers are probably the safest drivers on the road.
The really odd thing about this fear is how it come and goes. Truthfully, it hadn't bothered me for a while, even with the long summer commute I have, and the long trips I've been on, driving by myself. Then I saw a truck swerve a little, and straddle the line for about a mile, and it all came back: the panic I have to force down so I can concentrate on driving, and the white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Ever since, I am back to "the big lean" to the center of the car when my husband passes a truck, and my own speeding up after four deep breaths when I have to pass. (It's less of a problem for me when they pass me. Weird and inconsistent, I know--that's how I know it's not all that rational!) And all the while, I can see the same vision behind what my eyes are seeing.....
What is this vision? Put simply, me being squashed by a semi on the highway. The vision has always varied slightly, I think based on what size car I am primarily driving. When it was mostly a mini-van I was driving, I see me and my car pancaked against the jersey barrier (which also makes me have the irritated thought that it is a "jersey barrier" not a "new jersey barrier." See? Not rational!), and the truck just driving away, not even noticing. When I drive a smaller car, or when I was driving a station wagon, as the truck moves over to change lanes, it either runs right over the car, or the car becomes wedged underneath for a few miles. Either way, in my mind's eye, I hear a screeching of metal and tires, and I end up gone. Perhaps the fact that I have never seen myself dead in these visions is a positive, but I do know that I come out of the vision "knowing" that's how I'm going to die.
One summer, I had a similar fear, but of crossing bridges. Dad and Mom had decided we would vacation in Vermont, and I remember hiding on the floor of the car when we crossed one long, high bridge. My sister and our friend, Nancy, were trying to coax me out to see the view, my mother was exasperated, and my father felt terrible that he couldn't do anything about it but continue driving. Somehow, I seem to recall it starting as a joke, and ending up being a real fear that summer. Not afterwards, though--just on that trip.
None of this keeps me off the road, though. In fact, I love driving and taking trips in the car. Driving to Florida this summer was a wonderful treat, and I'm looking forward to a trip to Savannah in the next couple of weeks. Being on the road offers a different kind of freedom, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Trucks, you won't beat me! We'll just share the road.
But the moment you turn a corner you see another straight stretch ahead and there comes some further challenge to your ambition.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
peace and a pool vac
Today I'll be going to work early to vacuum the pool. Although I'm irritated at the reason I can't just toss the robot in, I'm not minding that I will have the solitude and peaceful time. This means I won't have time to do yoga today, but I can practice yoga philosophies while working. There is a zen-like quality to vacuuming a pool; everything must be done purposefully and slowly, rhythmically and with a light touch. The only problem I ever have is that I tend to sunburn while vacuuming.
I love the water. I prefer nature to the pool, but still the water is peaceful. As I gaze into the water, I can think, open my mind, wander through my thoughts, meandering without having to connect one to another. When vacuuming the pool, I don't usually come to conclusions, as I do when watching currents or waves, or even when vacuuming the floors at home. Rather, the thoughts come and go of their own accord.
While thinking through is more often my goal, and necessary, I find the thoughtless thinking to be refreshing sometimes. Occasionally, I stumble across a thought that I would like to consider more thoroughly at a later time. Often, though, I can just let them go and be freed of their clutter. The only other time I am able to do so is in savasana, the resting posture: corpse pose. It's easier than it once was, but there are still thoughts I wish were not even there to begin with; memories I don't wish to have, heartaches, words said that cannot be erased, feelings that still strike a chord.....
Funny how the difficult thoughts float to the surface. The other day, I told my husband that the painful feelings we give voice to, those related to fear, anger and pain, seem to have less power when shared, while those related to love, joy and lightness become exponentially more powerful when spoken aloud.
Perhaps today, while I am alone with the pool, I will speak aloud the thoughts as they come to mind. Probably not, because I will feel silly......but I imagine if I can get past my own self, speaking them aloud will help them to grow or diminish as necessary.
I love the water. I prefer nature to the pool, but still the water is peaceful. As I gaze into the water, I can think, open my mind, wander through my thoughts, meandering without having to connect one to another. When vacuuming the pool, I don't usually come to conclusions, as I do when watching currents or waves, or even when vacuuming the floors at home. Rather, the thoughts come and go of their own accord.
While thinking through is more often my goal, and necessary, I find the thoughtless thinking to be refreshing sometimes. Occasionally, I stumble across a thought that I would like to consider more thoroughly at a later time. Often, though, I can just let them go and be freed of their clutter. The only other time I am able to do so is in savasana, the resting posture: corpse pose. It's easier than it once was, but there are still thoughts I wish were not even there to begin with; memories I don't wish to have, heartaches, words said that cannot be erased, feelings that still strike a chord.....
Funny how the difficult thoughts float to the surface. The other day, I told my husband that the painful feelings we give voice to, those related to fear, anger and pain, seem to have less power when shared, while those related to love, joy and lightness become exponentially more powerful when spoken aloud.
Perhaps today, while I am alone with the pool, I will speak aloud the thoughts as they come to mind. Probably not, because I will feel silly......but I imagine if I can get past my own self, speaking them aloud will help them to grow or diminish as necessary.
Monday, October 10, 2011
a wonderous avocation
The Buddha says, "Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it." I have the quote hanging on my mirror, and I've seen it every day for about a year. Yet the full meaning didn't occur to me until yoga class today.
~~this little light of mine~~
One of the differences between going to a yoga class and practicing at home on my own is the prompt to set an intention for the day's practice. At home alone, it's so easy to forget, or even purposely skip this important step in the process. Today, we were encouraged to set an intention related to something we love to do, and that we would like to make our life's work, or if we are already working at our life's dream, how we can more fully open up to the universal ability to find true happiness. As I considered this, Shani went on to encourage us to open up and search less diligently, thereby allowing that for which we search to appear before us.
~~I'm gonna let it shine~~
I love practicing yoga because there is peace and stillness inside me that I don't always recognize or honor. Some days, I'm too busy or rushed to sneak in the 20-30 minutes from Yoga Download, even though when I do fit it in, I feel like a better person. The focus on balance and breathing brings me back to my center, back to the me that I like to be. When I am centered and balanced, I can see my happiness, and it's not in 'stuff' at all. My life's work, my world, is to create. I am at peace with the possibility that I may not ever make enough money to live off of, but it is very important for me to give myself to creating.
~~this little light of mine~~
In the meditation today, we were encouraged to surround ourselves with people and circumstances that make our life's work possible. Without realizing that I was working toward this moment, I have been so surrounding myself since my father died. A friend who is a minister told me one day, when I confided that I was getting a little tired of people saying they knew 'exactly' how I felt, and that I should just 'move on,' that if they were not being kind, there was no reason to keep them. Ever since, I've been a bit more selective. More guarded, at times, but really just more aware of the fact that I am me, and I intend always to be me, and only me. As a result, I create more for fun, and I also have "discovered" two opportunities to find homes for my creations (as random and varied as they may be), and I have a blog. What more could I ask for?
~~I'm gonna let it shine~~
Why did this strike such a chord with me, since I was well on my way on my own? All because of one big, wonderful, daunting word. My Buddha quote tells me that I should find my heart's happiness, but this morning, this was posed as our "responsibility." That changes everything! All this time, I've been looking rather nonchalantly--yet finding success, albeit moderate success. Imagine if I had seen creating--my world--as a responsibility rather than as something I find to be fun, entertaining, relaxing, centering. My life could change, and I am open to it, open to the universal aid of those before me and those ahead. Good things will happen, I'm sure of it, and in my spare time, to boot.
~~let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!~~
~~this little light of mine~~
One of the differences between going to a yoga class and practicing at home on my own is the prompt to set an intention for the day's practice. At home alone, it's so easy to forget, or even purposely skip this important step in the process. Today, we were encouraged to set an intention related to something we love to do, and that we would like to make our life's work, or if we are already working at our life's dream, how we can more fully open up to the universal ability to find true happiness. As I considered this, Shani went on to encourage us to open up and search less diligently, thereby allowing that for which we search to appear before us.
~~I'm gonna let it shine~~
I love practicing yoga because there is peace and stillness inside me that I don't always recognize or honor. Some days, I'm too busy or rushed to sneak in the 20-30 minutes from Yoga Download, even though when I do fit it in, I feel like a better person. The focus on balance and breathing brings me back to my center, back to the me that I like to be. When I am centered and balanced, I can see my happiness, and it's not in 'stuff' at all. My life's work, my world, is to create. I am at peace with the possibility that I may not ever make enough money to live off of, but it is very important for me to give myself to creating.
~~this little light of mine~~
In the meditation today, we were encouraged to surround ourselves with people and circumstances that make our life's work possible. Without realizing that I was working toward this moment, I have been so surrounding myself since my father died. A friend who is a minister told me one day, when I confided that I was getting a little tired of people saying they knew 'exactly' how I felt, and that I should just 'move on,' that if they were not being kind, there was no reason to keep them. Ever since, I've been a bit more selective. More guarded, at times, but really just more aware of the fact that I am me, and I intend always to be me, and only me. As a result, I create more for fun, and I also have "discovered" two opportunities to find homes for my creations (as random and varied as they may be), and I have a blog. What more could I ask for?
~~I'm gonna let it shine~~
Why did this strike such a chord with me, since I was well on my way on my own? All because of one big, wonderful, daunting word. My Buddha quote tells me that I should find my heart's happiness, but this morning, this was posed as our "responsibility." That changes everything! All this time, I've been looking rather nonchalantly--yet finding success, albeit moderate success. Imagine if I had seen creating--my world--as a responsibility rather than as something I find to be fun, entertaining, relaxing, centering. My life could change, and I am open to it, open to the universal aid of those before me and those ahead. Good things will happen, I'm sure of it, and in my spare time, to boot.
~~let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!~~
Friday, August 19, 2011
Fannie Tang returns :)
"Stephanie, right?" As I walked in the door, for the second time, I was once again struck by the feeling of complete 'homeness' of the studio, and immediately felt warmly welcomed. "I'm Shani. I feel like I've met you before..." Indeed, as I mentioned, this was my second visit, but only my second--and the first had been in the late winter/early spring. It is now mid-August.
Through a mutual friend, I had heard about Shani and her studio, Flow Together Yoga Center, and the wonderful space it was to practice, learn and refine. Months later, Guy got me a Groupon for my birthday. I've only been the one time so far, but on that one visit, I so enjoyed myself; I pushed myself through the class, which was twice as long as my usual practice, with the gentle, yet sure guidance of Shani. During the class, she encouraged me to tent my hands on the floor, using my fingertips for balance and strength, rather than my flat palms. What a difference it has made! After the class, she told me my practice was beautiful, and I truly felt as though my body had returned to a placement it had been lacking--even though I had been practicing frequently.
Today I visited for a very different reason. Earlier in the week, Shani had posted on Flow Together's Facebook page a call to artists. The studio will be celebrating its one year anniversary, and they would like to add a 'heartmade' element to the retail space on consignment. On a whim, because making stuff is my therapy, I responded and asked if my eclectic selection would fit in with what she's looking for. I've sold my work in the past, with varying results and reactions, but have never found just the right fit. I take pride in my work, and do see it as art, although that statement has garnered some strange looks at times. It seems some see "art" and "craft" as dichotomous, and never the twain shall meet. So be it. I put my heart into what I make, sometimes using patterns, sometimes not, but the hardest part comes when I have thought about selling in the past.
Simply put, I get bored easily. I don't want to make 425 purses. But I do love to make them! Sometimes I like to knit, or make French message boards, or paint some wooden thing and transform it into a showpiece. My current impetus is to use up the scraps and freebies I have accumulated for the past 10-15 years. That's a lot of stuff. And I live in a house with Guy and our four boys. There are only so many things I can make! I love that I have the supplies on hand to have made birthday presents for two dear friends lately (and that I had the time that week!) because I know just how genuinely they appreciated what I could do just for them. Using my recycled and repurposed fabrics and notions may seem more challenging for strangers, but I have another way of thinking about it entirely. And Shani spoke it aloud today without even realizing it. Each person has something that will touch them. It may sound a little "out there," but if I really focus and breathe life into what I make, I will know. Anything that doesn't sell just hasn't found the right place, the right 'finder.'
That mutual friend has been interviewing for jobs, and is understandably frustrated. So many of her friends have commented on her status updates reminding her that the right position just hasn't come forth. She will land on her feet; she will find what seeks her. Her yoga practice will help, especially since she has the support of a remarkable instructor and friend like Shani. I'm looking forward to working with her, and to attending more classes at the studio: a home if ever I felt one. Namaste.
Through a mutual friend, I had heard about Shani and her studio, Flow Together Yoga Center, and the wonderful space it was to practice, learn and refine. Months later, Guy got me a Groupon for my birthday. I've only been the one time so far, but on that one visit, I so enjoyed myself; I pushed myself through the class, which was twice as long as my usual practice, with the gentle, yet sure guidance of Shani. During the class, she encouraged me to tent my hands on the floor, using my fingertips for balance and strength, rather than my flat palms. What a difference it has made! After the class, she told me my practice was beautiful, and I truly felt as though my body had returned to a placement it had been lacking--even though I had been practicing frequently.
Today I visited for a very different reason. Earlier in the week, Shani had posted on Flow Together's Facebook page a call to artists. The studio will be celebrating its one year anniversary, and they would like to add a 'heartmade' element to the retail space on consignment. On a whim, because making stuff is my therapy, I responded and asked if my eclectic selection would fit in with what she's looking for. I've sold my work in the past, with varying results and reactions, but have never found just the right fit. I take pride in my work, and do see it as art, although that statement has garnered some strange looks at times. It seems some see "art" and "craft" as dichotomous, and never the twain shall meet. So be it. I put my heart into what I make, sometimes using patterns, sometimes not, but the hardest part comes when I have thought about selling in the past.
Simply put, I get bored easily. I don't want to make 425 purses. But I do love to make them! Sometimes I like to knit, or make French message boards, or paint some wooden thing and transform it into a showpiece. My current impetus is to use up the scraps and freebies I have accumulated for the past 10-15 years. That's a lot of stuff. And I live in a house with Guy and our four boys. There are only so many things I can make! I love that I have the supplies on hand to have made birthday presents for two dear friends lately (and that I had the time that week!) because I know just how genuinely they appreciated what I could do just for them. Using my recycled and repurposed fabrics and notions may seem more challenging for strangers, but I have another way of thinking about it entirely. And Shani spoke it aloud today without even realizing it. Each person has something that will touch them. It may sound a little "out there," but if I really focus and breathe life into what I make, I will know. Anything that doesn't sell just hasn't found the right place, the right 'finder.'
That mutual friend has been interviewing for jobs, and is understandably frustrated. So many of her friends have commented on her status updates reminding her that the right position just hasn't come forth. She will land on her feet; she will find what seeks her. Her yoga practice will help, especially since she has the support of a remarkable instructor and friend like Shani. I'm looking forward to working with her, and to attending more classes at the studio: a home if ever I felt one. Namaste.
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