Heart Opener

My heart was so heavy it felt like I was lying in the dentist chair with one of those lead aprons on. Not my favorite place to be. Thankfully, I was in a much better place. At the yoga studio, in the flow of the morning’s practice, something broke free. My heart expanded as we moved and meditated on this,

 from Psalm 18: 16 – 19:

But he caught – reached all the way from sky to sea; he pulled me out

of the ocean of hate, that enemy chaos,

the void in which I was drowning.

They hit me when I was down,

but God stuck by me,

He stood me up on a wide-open field; I stood there saved – surprised to be loved!

(google image)

During the hour of heart openers a dream was recalled. The dream was representative of what the morning’s practice was inviting me to  -body, mind, soul and spirit - a more expansive place.  The dream found me in a Plexiglas cube tangled up with a bittersweet vine. The vine was growing at a tremendous rate and crowding me out until I was trapped in a tiny corner with no room to breathe. As it pressed against me the pain was great. Panic was setting in. Suddenly, at the last possible moment, before I was crushed under its weight and entangling branches, the intense pressure building up BURST open the cube and I tumbled out as the vine sprung out and shook with great trembling. Seeds scattered. They were seeds of contempt. The root was exposed and it was recognized as the root of bitterness. Together, they had bound me up and restrained me. In that moment of new awareness, with loving-kindness, I saw all the bitterness, all the contempt strewn like ripe seeds and berries of a bittersweet vine. As they scattered, these seeds were transformed into seeds of compassion. I was transformed and transported to an expansive place of love. Love for self. Love for others. Love for God. Why would that be a surprising place to find myself in?

 I've been there before....                                                                        May it be so for you.

Contented Yogi

Too much? Too little? What’s right? What’s wrong? Can it be just this? Or might it be that?  

A while back in yoga class I was invited to do more than I thought myself capable of and was thrilled with the possibility of progress. Then, a couple of weeks later, I was cautioned to not think of myself more highly than I ought as our instructor shared the story from Greek mythology of Icarus:

… His father, who had built wings from feathers and wax, warned Icarus not to fly too low lest his wings touch the waves and get wet and not too high lest the sun melt the wax. But, the young Icarus, overwhelmed by the thrill of flying, did not heed his father's warning, and flew too close to the sun whereupon the wax in his wings melted and he fell into the sea and drowned.

http://www.island-ikaria.com/culture/myth.asp

The practice with Icarus reminded me to stay grounded and centered and balanced as we were challenged to hold certain uncomfortable poses longer. In the process I found that I was capable of more – in the here and now. That was what that practice bore – a sense of the now. Of the moment. Being present in the moment.

These two lessons have stuck with me and now, at the studio once again this morning, I, who have too often felt that I was either too much or not enough, may have found the middle ground. The middle ground, it seems, is in the balance. Balancing postures always challenge me. Over the years of practicing yoga, the strength and core positions give clear indication that there is progression in my practice. But, it's those balance postures which seem to be my nemesis. Even so, I persist with patience and trust that as I practice, practice, practice, progress will be met.

The middle ground of balance seems to flow from contentment. Contentment rises up as I root down in loving kindness and compassion for myself. A Biblical text, Matthew 5: 5 as paraphrased in the Message frames this well for me this morning: You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

Balance can’t be bought. It can, however be practiced. It can be learned. I am learning to be content in spite of  unsettling questions that tip me off center.

Where are you feeling off balance today? How can you extend loving kindness and compassion to yourself? Where is contentment to be found? These  are just a few questions that I ask of me as I leave this page.
I hold them gently as I go on to the rest of my day. May it be so for you.

                                                                 Image -  Vida Yoga Mandela Vector Art White

Waiting Still...

Back in December of 2012 my friend, Carissa, invited me to be her guest blogger. She published the following in February of this year: http://carissawoodwyk.wordpress.com/2013/02/26/a-grandma-in-waiting/

I was waiting…wondering….

Cora Mae was born on April 11 and I had to wait a full three weeks before I got to meet her. These weeks were full of longing.

The planned visit couldn’t come soon enough. There was so much anticipation. Thankfully, telephone calls and IPhone images captured and posted to my INBOX soothed the waiting time.
Finally – the day arrived when I could fly out and meet the precious darling.

 

Now, here I am - home for two weeks already after having had an amazing three weeks bonding with my new grandbaby. Cora Mae is 8 weeks old now – one can see that time is flying by!  Meanwhile, I’ve been assured and reassured that this long distance factor is not as big a deal as I had feared. Hmmmm – note to self – not… as I had feared. Here is new and exciting territory to be learned and navigated.  A new relationship is forming. One cannot dictate how the dynamics of this bond will play out over the years. I’m in a time of waiting – a time of incubation.The one thing I know I can do is show up with loving intention –whatever that will look like.

As another grandma congratulated me on my new role she had this to say about long-distance grand parenting – 

[I think this] opens up a whole new opportunity for creative communication. I send lots of little    packages, for no reason except to say "Grandma loves you!" I write her letters (even if she can't read), I read her books on Skype and do show and tell. They do come back [home] every summer, so we do get some face-to-face time. And most of all, I pray for her every day, and that increases the "grandma-love" more than anything.  I responded by saying: thanks for sharing my joy and sharing from your years of experience. Your words are taken as a storehouse of encouragement for the times of separation.

One of my favorite authors, who herself is a grandma brought encouragement as she shared from her experience of separation. In her book, Some Assembly Required, (which I think should be required reading for any and all grandmothers! See link below*) Ann Lamott suggests that “our love for each other (that of Anne & her grandson) is indelible, and not based on proximity.”

Indelible defined:  making marks that cannot be erased, removed… eliminated, forgotten, changed, or the like.

While I’m still waiting and wondering how this will all play out…. At this point in time I know my life has been indelibly changed now that I am a grandmother. Period. The long distance factor is inconsequential.

*http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_0_9?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=some+assembly+required&sprefix=some+asse%2Caps%2C259

Stronger Than I Thought

Last night found me burning the midnight oil on a knitting project – staying up way too late. Yet, as is the case for me, knitting becomes a prayer as I hold dear ones in my heart. So it was a quiet evening of contemplation and meditation – a peaceful ending to a vigorous day. When I finally got to bed, the plan was to sleep in and have a restful, laid back Saturday.

It was a surprise then, to find myself wide awake much earlier than anticipated this morning  -  sensing a very clear invitation to rise and shine and get on down to the yoga studio first thing.

Here was a choice – stay under the covers or respond to the invitation. If I had been roused ten minutes later the choice would have been made for me– snuggle in and get some more shut eye. If I lived further away from the studio, I would have turned over – knowing that the timing wasn’t right-  and put the thought out of my mind. But, there was just enough time to get a move on. Just enough time….

As I slipped, last minute into the studio, it felt good to be there. But, once we got going, I had a feeling that I wasn’t up to the task. It was turning out to be a kick ass work out -way more than I thought I could muster up that early in the morning. I surrendered to child’s pose but then, heard the instructor say, “You’re stronger than you think you are….”

Really? All right – let’s see what possibility THAT invitation holds out for me.

Breathing into the next pose, fire in the belly stoked, rooting down to rise up, I was amazed at the strength that was demonstrated. Strength that I didn’t know was there. At the same time, it seemed fitting that as other poses presented themselves, modification was called for. This was, after all, MY practice.

Grateful, a scene from one of my favorite books – The Horse and His Boy, by C.S. Lewis came to mind:

…certainly, both horses were doing, if not all they could, all they thought they could; which is not quite the same thing…And Bree [one of the horses] now discovered that he had not really been going as fast – not quite as fast – as he could. Shasta [the rider] felt the change at once. Now they were really going all out….

You’re stronger than you think you are….

You’re stronger than you think you are…

As a recovering good church lady, here I am given pause to consider how I used to push myself beyond what was healthy –addicted to performance and people pleasing and giving in to that great motivator – guilt. I was in a place of doing. Always pushing. Doing. Doing. Exhausted. Life sucked out of me.

What makes the difference here? It’s in the breath. It’s in the invitation. It’s in the choices. It’s in the rooting down to rise up. It’s being open to possibility. It’s living into the question, “what brings you life?”

            What brings YOU life? Where might you discover that you are stronger than you think you are?

war of the two wolves - contempt vs. compassion

There’s a story told – the source of which is a bit ambiguous, but it goes something like this:

A grandfather told his grandson, “It’s like there are two wolves in me. One is good; the other is bad. One leads me to be kind; the other leads me to be mean. One helps me love; the other makes me hate. A war of the two wolves wages in me.”

The boy asked his grandfather, “Which one wins?”

That,” the grandfather replied,” depends on which one I feed.”

 

If this were my story, I would say that the mean wolf is contempt and the good wolf is compassion.

I’ve been giving some thought to the ways we (or should I say, I – as if I’m the only one?) hold ourselves and others in contempt. Contempt is an especially cunning and stealth full creature –catered to by contention, competition and comparison. This contemptuous wolf – who represents my false self, has conditioned me to think that it’s hard to measure up and carries around with it a defeated sense of me being either too much or not enough in relationship with others. This ravenous wolf is never satisfied. Shame and blame are heaped on shame and blame until one finds herself buried under more contempt in a deep and dark, miry pit of isolation and self imposed exile.

For much of my life this pit was a familiar place. Over time, I am learning that I don’t have to go there. Well, at least I am now able to say that while I still fall back into the old relational style I now know that I don’t have to stay there and feed that nasty wolf. I’m learning that I actually have a choice to engage with the good wolf. It’s been a long time coming.

 

So, what about that other wolf?

 

The good wolf feasts on compassion - Self compassion and compassion for others. With gratitude and grace, the good wolf is patient and aware. The good wolf knows that kindness matters. Kindness invites me to engage with others and love myself well as I dare to live more and more out of my true self.

 

In her book, Self-Compassion: Stop beating yourself up and leave insecurity behind, Kristine Neff shares this:

When faced with our human imperfection, we can either respond with kindness and care, or with judgment and criticism. An important question to ask is what qualities of heart and mind do we want to encourage in ourselves? We can’t stop our judgmental thoughts, but we don’t have to encourage or believe in them either. If we hold our self-judgments with gentleness and understanding, the force of self-contempt will eventually fade and wither, deprived of the sustenance needed to survive. We have the power to live with joy and contentment by responding to our suffering with kindness.

 

If this were your story, which wolf will you feed? The simpering, wounded wolf who feeds on contempt or the contented good wolf who longs to be nourished with kindness and compassion?