I’m not sure that I’m cut out for blogging.  As a writer, I write daily.  I write about things that matter deeply to me.  It may be my guilt over eating chocolate that’s not Fair Trade.  I write about my relationships and problems that I encounter.  I write essays on Breast Cancer, depression, cooking, my family, and walking my dog.  But, when it comes to writing for this blog, I never know if people are interested.  How many blogs do we need?  Do we need more blogs?   So, I’ve decided to make formal my decision.  I’ll write when I have something to say.  In this way, I’m not searching for things to say to stay in touch.  I consider this to be the equivalent of my social policy.  I aim to not say things that I do not mean.  If I say, let’s have coffee, it’s because I mean let’s have coffee.  For years I had a friend who whenever we ran into each other would say, “Let’s get together.”  It took me years to realize that it was a social nicety, and I need not try to arrange anything.  I’ getting comfortable with greeting someone in the moment and not promising anything for the future.  Not promising because I don’t have the time, don’t want to make the time, don’t have much interest, and/or need to be protective of my time.  Yoga, writing, knitting, and felting are my creative outlets.  I get cranky when I give all of my time away and don’t have space to go inwards.  And, these are my thoughts on this day.

I suppose it’s no surprise to any of you who know me that I don’t mind change.  In fact, I kind of like it once I get over the initial shock of the shift.  As I’ve watched Egypt for the last few weeks, I can’t help but think of the Tianamen Square Demonstration of twenty-one years ago.  I remember working at a booth at the Fremont Fair when I heard the news that the Chinese government had stopped the demonstration by use of force.  There was a sense of paralysis.  How could we help to put pressure on a regime that had no interest in what we thought.  Where would the energy of the rebellion go after it was abruptly halted?  How many people would be jailed or killed as a result of their involvement?   Here’s where change comes in to play…

The 24/7 media and the internet would not allow the Egyptian rebellion to be hidden.  There were reporters and cell phone users who caught the different angles of the days and weeks from deep within.  They’d text videos and pictures abroad.  Reporters established makeshift  connections when channels were shut down to stop the flow of information to the outside world.  I kept hearing about how important Twitter is to get the word out.

People talk about Twitter all of the time, and I have very little idea of what Twitter is.  I do have a Twitter account, and I tweeted once or twice a few years ago,  but I really have no understanding of this particular aspect of social media.  I  don’t think that I should resist it because I don’t have time for it, anymore than I think that I need to embrace it because it’s out there.

I think it’s important to understand what you are using if you use it, or what you are passing up if you elect not to use it.  Just today, my writing teacher said that she thought Twitter was more important than Facebook.  I still didn’t know what it is.  I pledge to do my homework on Twitter to see what it is.  I pledge to stay flexible in thinking and action.  I pledge to never reject something because I don’t understand it.  I pledge to use Twitter for at least a week, before I make a pronouncement of whether or not I will use it.

Just a few weeks ago, I moved from keeping my calendar in a book to keeping my calendar on my phone using ICal.  The first few days were ridiculously tough.  I kept reaching for my calendar to see how my classes, appointments, writing, studio work, pick-ups and drop-offs were spread through the week.  Then, one day, I stopped reaching for my calendar.  I figured out how to have my ICal calendar display in list form.  From then on, I have had no problems.

Last week was my week of mourning for two great friends gone from this dimension.  In my previous post, I told a bit about each one.  This writing I will tell you about the rituals that were created to help those still here deal with the loss.  While death is about the person dying, mourning is for mourners to spend time with others sharing memories, mining for more memories, and fixing those memories in place along with the face, smile, eyes, and laughter that are no longer readily available..  It’s also a time to comfort and be comforted.

On Wednesday, I went to Dick Battin’s memorial service.  Four of Dick’s oldest friends, my father was one of them, spoke to whom Dick was.  They told stories about Dick and skiing, dentistry, tree farming, fishing, corn growing and eating, childrearing, grandchildren, and so on.  Three of his four children spoke.  One spoke of his ‘unique’ parenting style, his son told tales about his father’s old truck patched with plywood and bungee cord, all spoke of the guidance he had given and the unconditional love they felt.  Their family pastor, also a family friend, spoke of being a friend, a neighbor, a fellow-parent, and gave insight into Dick’s beliefs and faith.  In an after-party for out-of-towners and close friends there was more remembering.  Drinks were poured, toasts made, and somewhere near the end, daughter number two, Robin, who had not spoken, came fourth with deep comforting wisdom.  She said that as she looked around the room, she saw her father in everyone present, and in this way he would continue on.

On the back of the memorial card created for Dick was a quote from Dick that tied a ribbon around the whole day and his life, “I’m never going to discover another penicillin or hit a home run for the Mariners or invent a better computer chip.  But if I can restore an abused piece of ground into a viable tree farm, I’ll die happy.  His wife Judy courageously spoke at the funeral.  She spoke of their life together and their love, and she said that she planned to stay on their tree farm, the land that he had nurtured, because that was where she felt closest to him.

On the heels of Dick’s memorial, came an equally rich memorial for Sandie that was different but at heart the same.  Last night at least thirty of us stood on a dock at Greenlake in the cold night air wrapped in heavy coats, boots, scarves, gloves, mittens, and one friend in Sandie’s life vest.  Members of the writing group and a few other friends had decorated Japanese paper lanterns that were illuminated with candles.  PK, our chief organizer and partner to Geri who is a member of our group,  stood before an alter that she and Geri and had set-up.  She explained the significance of the Japanese lantern ceremony and how we would proceed.

I recited a Jewish prayer for mourners.  Geri read from the Tao De Ching.  Then, one by one each person with a lantern came forward, spoke Sandie’s name, said a few works, and then lowered the lantern into the water.  The glowing lanterns floated quietly across the lake, a stunning tribute to a woman that we all love.

In someways, I’m coming to terms with the idea that death is what you make of it.  You don’t have to love it, but if you can accept it, you can hold onto the spirit of the person and not just the pain of the loss.

In the last week, I have lost two dear friends.  One an old-family friend the other a writing friend.  The writer, Susanna, had been sick for 4 years.  Richard, the old-family friend had a stroke and died within a month of complications.  Tonight I lift my pen (or keyboard) for both of them.  My writing buddy loved the color purple, purple shoes, purple jackets, purple caftans, purple hats, purple beads, and so on.  I hasten to add that her purple was a dignified purple that looked stunning against her dark brown skin.

One of our friends called Susanna, Ms Purple.  Susanna had an unusual gift for going deep with people quickly or not really going at all.  In the two years that I knew her, I felt like I had known her forever.  What is it about some relationships that grow sturdy, and others that stay thin and on the surface forever?  When she died a week ago Saturday,  I decided that the color purple would serve as a reminder of her.  Purple would be a talisman.  I see purple everywhere, even when I’m not specifically looking for Susanna, I see her.

My friend Richard died last night at age 77.  I didn’t expect him to go.  I expected a long and winding recovery that would leave him a little slower, but with the vigor and strength he had even after fighting cancer.

I imagined that my family and I would go to visit him next summer on his family farm in Napavine.   We’d  take the kids to see what you can do when you put your hands in the ground.  We’d take them to eat corn fresh and warm from his garden.  I believe that he grew ‘honey and pearl’.

Richard was the first one I knew to talk about organic farming.  He started, I believe, in the early 70′s.  I remember learning about his ducks that he used to fertilize his garden.  Their job was to control the slugs that could decimate the garden.  I learned about garden rotation.  I learned that he favored turkey manure over chicken manure for its nitrogen content.  I learned that corn could be a lot sweeter than anything that I had from a grocery store, at least in the 70′s and 80′s.

In the 90′s he won an award for sustainable tree farming from the Washington State Tree Farmer’s Association.  I still have an article about the award ceremony and the speech he gave upon acceptance in my files.  I need to reread it.  He was ahead of his time in just about everything environmental.   I credit him with opening my eyes to a concern that was no more on my radar than football is now.  (Doubtful that football will ever be on my radar.)   When I found Rachel Carson, and her book,  Silent Spring, the book that Monsanto wrote a parody of entitled, A Desolate Year, I called Richard.

Just the other day, I made a note to myself in my journal to ask Richard about genetically modified corn.  Is there any corn left that is not GMO?  Is it true that farmers are breaking the law if they plant seed that is not licensed by Monsanto.  What about the seeds that we buy to plant in our gardens. I also wanted to ask him what kind of apple tree to plant in our yard on Camano Island.  What will grow close to salt water? I’m not sure whom I’ll ask now.  Maybe my friend Yen in Hawaii.

Richard I will see every time I eat an apple or apple pie, go to a farmer’s market, eat garden fresh produce, look through seed catalogues, walk over a nurse log on a hike, or see a slug eating a strawberry in my patch.

Gone does not have to mean lost and certainly not forgotten.

I love the fall. I love fresh apples, crisp sunlight, hot coffee, and the chill in the air.  I also love my down vest. In September, our family schedule resumed its organization around school, and I once again found a more predictable rhythm to my days.  I find that for teaching yoga and writing,  daily practice is a must.  Now finally in November, nearly Thanksgiving, I have found a structure that will keep me going through the gray of winter.  Winter is my creative phase, the time when I can have more quiet time to reflect and conjure, and conjure I have.

This past weekend, I spent a morning with a group of friends; one of whom is quite ill.  We carried on as we usually do, our friend on the coach.  We talked,  we drank coffee, and we spent the morning literally resting in each others company.  It was comforting, nurturing, and wonderful to be in a place where being real is the only acceptable way to be.  And, I might add that it cost nothing to gather in a friend’s apartment and didn’t require getting dressed up.

Right now, I see it as essential to savor the small things and cultivate calm amid the very real concerns we face daily:  jobs, the economy,  health concerns, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, local and national politics, and so fourth.  And, let’s not forget that we have holidays coming quickly which can be tremendously stressful for numerous reasons,

I decided that it was time to go cultivate calm and sink into it.  So, a few nights ago, I went to a deep relaxation class to refuel.  During the dharma talk, I began to think about two yoga beliefs:  1) yoga philosophy warns us that there will always be suffering, and 2)  yoga philosophy teaches that there is a light shining in each of us that is free from suffering.  I brought these two ideas together and came up with the following:  In the practice of yoga, we can learn to bring light (compassion) to our own grief/discomfort/suffering and cultivate compassion for the suffering of others at the same time.  They really come from the same source.   By cultivating compassion for self it becomes more natural to extend it to others.  Find something that you ride yourself about.  Then, for just a week, whenever you go into the habitual pattern of riding yourself, pull back and instead ask yourself what else you can do about the issue that would be more positive.  Substitute one set of thoughts for another positive set.  Banishing negativity doesn’t last long enough and drives deeper into unhealthy patterns of thoughts and actions.

Recently I went to hear Paul Loeb speak about community involvement for personal and communal transformation.  I bought his book  Soul of A Citizen which is a refreshingly positive book that talks about what’s wrong, but also about what we can do to feel better and make a difference.  I highly recommend taking a look at this book or any other book that doesn’t just point out problems, but offers solutions.  I find that I feel better if I even make small efforts to bring about good.

I jumped through a hoop in the last week that dosen’t look like a hoop, but it feels like a fiery ring.  While in Washington D.C. with my son Noah and two good friends for the Jon Stewart Rally, I stood with my back against the Washington Monument and looked across at Lincoln.  Then, I followed the example of a half-dozen other people and laid on the ground with my legs up the monument.  For those in the yoga-know this posture is called viparita karni.  With the load off of my feet,  I experienced a glorious moment of weightlessness while breathing in fresh-cool air.  As I lay on the ground, it struck me that if I stopped procrastinating, I might be able to greatly reduce my stress load.

Later that night in my hotel, I made a list of all the neglected things that I need to do for my family, the dog, the studio, writing, etc.  I crossed out things that were unrealistic, such as, having a perfectly trained dog.  I added things that weren’t on the list that I really want to do, such as, watch yoga videos that will inspire my practice and teaching.  I grouped things by subjects, family, yoga practice, studio, writing, and friends. I prioritized the list, highest priorities highlighted in pink.  Next, I put dates of  by when I want to complete the various tasks.

Finally, I rewrote the list in the ‘to do’ order with a statement on the top that reads, “FOREGO PROCRASTINATION TO REDUCE ANXIETY.”  I taped the list to the cover of my laptop.

In the week since I returned, I’ve crossed things off the list that I’ve completed, and I’ve added new things as they present themselves.  The list spelled out actually makes me feel better.  I can see the work in front of me, it’s organized, and I no longer feel the weigh of a heavy amorphous cloud following me.

I encourage you to think about what can you do to reduce your stress.

Most of you probably have read or heard about the article on the front page of the Seattle Times on Monday letting us know that at least Mark Driscoll of Mars Hill Church, and a few others think that if your bent is yoga, you are in danger of keeping company with demons.  I have one question to ask, wasn’t there anything more newsworthy that day for the Seattle Times to publish? I think it’s important to know what is being said, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to give front page cover to a story that is fit for a tabloid.  It’s not the writing or the reporting that I am questioning.  It’s the story itself, which I am sure accurately quotes Driscoll and reflects his point-of-view.  But it’s  just not a good idea to put something out there that might invite more misguided thinking, hysteria, or ideas.  Those of us that realize that Driscoll speaks for one small slice of the population, will not be swayed, but I don’t want to put more press behind the Christian Right (or any other far right movement Right) and help them to extend their reach.   I’m hopeful that this blog entry will not come across as non-yogic, which I don’t think it is.   First, I’m no longer young enough to think that you have to affirm everyone’s opinion.  Everyone has a right to an opinion, but not every opinion is well thought out or grounded in facts.  And Second, there are times when a respectful, positive, and yet forceful stance is required.  My apologies if I have offended anyone at the studio.  The last thing I want to do is chase people away from yoga.

I don’t kno

This past August, I turned 49 and began my 50th year on this planet.  I started debating about how I feel about getting older until I realized that the alternative was not-so-good.  My first friend died when we were still in our twenties.  She dropped dead of an aneurysm leaving a husband and two young children behind.  Another friend died at 42 of breast cancer, and  I was forty-one.  Another friend died in her mid-fifties when I was 42.  So, when I say the alternative to being 49 and getting older every day is not-so-good, I mean it.  Life is just not that bad even considering all of the horrible (and, I mean horrible things going on around us in the world).  There’s still time , energy, and opportunity to make even small differences as long as I am upright.

I’m not always happy about wrinkles, my sagging belly, stiff joints, menopause, and grey hair, but what the hell?  There’s the veneer and the depth.  I’m not advocating letting it all go to hell, but I’m also not interested in trying to look like I’m 20 years old either.  Nothing wrong with looking like a twenty-year-old when you’re twenty.  I remember being concerned that I was too ‘hippy’ at twenty.  What was I thinking?  I look back at pictures and think what exactly was I complaining about? True, I wasn’t scrawny, but I was far from heavy.  My perception was way off.

In my early thirties, I first injured my back and landed in traction 3 times a week for a year.  It certainly seems that I’m not exactly remembering life as it was if I thought that all was swell.  Rather, I’ve been holding onto a vision of what I believe it should have been or wanted it to be.  At twenty,  I wasn’t nearly as strong as I am now.  I was far less flexible.  I was stressed out and anxious most of the time. I had no sense of humor.   And, I had a lot of back pain.

Practice is practice no matter if it includes a headstand, shoulder stand, and handstand trifecta or not.  Gentle asana is practice.  Strenuous asana is practice.  Pranayama is practice.  Meditation is practice.  I could no sooner have meditated at 20 than I could have visited the moon.  In fact, a lunar walk would have been easier.  My anxiety was so intense that I could barely read a book for five minutes.

Age is a practice of acceptance.  It’s a practice of looking back with appreciation and looking forward with anticipation and living with gratitude.  A lot of what I know now, wasn’t beyond me at twenty and thirty.  I’m wondering what fifty will show me that I wasn’t ready for at 40.

I’m looking forward to studying with Gail Malizia in a few weeks.  Her workshop on Yoga & the Art of Aging still has space.  Let me know if you are interested by emailing me at info@redsquareyoga.com

How Practicing Yoga can Help Living with Multiple Sclerosis and other Chronic Conditions

Suzanne let me post an article that she wrote on MS on the blog. The only problem is that I can’t figure out how to attribute it to her in the headline. So, here goes Suzanne!

Those of us living with MS and other chronic conditions are affected in innumerable ways. It can help improve fatigue, muscle spasms, stress levels, coordination, balance and more. Most importantly, Yoga can help with all of the stressors that come with living with chronic conditions. We have similar yet different symptoms & courses but we all have stressors. For me, the ability to practice Yoga to help myself when I need it makes me feel empowered. Living with MS myself, there are a lot of things I can’t control. Being able to practice Yoga is empowering and within my control.

Yoga can be done by anyone, in any shape, in any condition as long as you can breathe- You Can do Yoga. Show up to the mat, assess your body & mind at that moment. Learn how to adapt Your Practice to best suit You- the Practitioner.

When practicing Yoga, (remember Yoga is not just practicing postures but breath work, meditation, self-study & more) we begin by smoothing & evening out the breath. Whether an asana or a meditation practice is to follow – we begin here. We watch the breath as we move in & out of postures (asana) or we watch the breath as we meditate or practice breathing exercises (pranayama).

Bringing our awareness to our breath over and over forces body awareness. In time this body awareness helps us to listen and hear what our bodies are telling us. Sometimes I feel as if my body is screaming yet I don’t wanna hear lalalalala… but if I don’t listen to my body then I can be stuck on my butt for 3 days because I “over did it”. Sound familiar?! )

Listening to the breath, forcing this body awareness, teaches us to listen to our breath & body and to give ourselves what we need regardless of what we want. Sounds easy- some days it is- the hard part is to continue to practice diligently and passionately to bring us to this point. We can do one Yoga practice & feel more calm. Imagine if we built upon that. If your practice becomes a part of your day, think of how much calm will be added.

When getting MRI tx or steroid bouts, I use my breath to calm myself. When I feel a lull in energy, I use my breath to energize myself. When my body feels anxious, I use my breath to relax myself. When I can’t sleep, I use my breath to imagine healing and compassion within. By learning Yoga tools we can help manage the symptoms of MS and other chronic conditions as well as the ups and downs… no bill to follow!

At Yoga Empowered Online there will be many different practices for you to try. This site is to provide the knowledge and resources to help you discover for yourself how to use yoga tools to help manage symptoms to live your life more fully and mindfully. We all learn in different ways and different things will resonate within each of us, just as it should be, find what speaks to you. Have an open mind about all this jazz and give it a go.

Always consult with your doctor before beginning. This is never meant to be a substitute for your doctor’s advice but a resource for information. Don’t hesitate to leave questions or comments.

Adapted from Yoga Empowered Online (find original post here).

I just read a letter that a young man wrote to his Chaplain in the Canadian Army before he died of terminal cancer.  The Chaplain had asked the man to write a letter that would help him talk about who the man REALLY was at the funeral.  While I’d love to reprint the entire letter here, it wouldn’t be right, but I will paraphrase.  First this man had not pursued a traditional life.  He had not married, he didn’t have kids, he didn’t have a straight forward career, but he had been fully engaged intellectually, socially, and physically in life.  At 39, he recognized what he had passed up, but he also realized what he DID have.  He felt that his life which he wished was longer, had been a full life, a rich life.

He did have times when he was down from his cancer and simply couldn’t get up in the morning, but when the lumps in bed became too uncomfortable, and he slide out of bed, he was always grateful for the gray Vancouver sky and the fresh air.  He lived a life of minimal regrets.  He did say that he was sorry that he hadn’t had his own children, but he also said that he had been fortunate to have shared in the lives of his friends’ children.  He went out with them on Halloween.  He helped them find the right piece for their lego masterpieces.

I don’t know where such resilience and gracefulness come from, but I’m guessing that some people are born with it and others have to cultivate it.  I fall on the side of having to cultivate it.  I have to plant the seeds and water deeply.  I also have to be a contributor.  I contribute through my marriage, my parenting, my extended family, my friends, and the different communities I’m fortunate to be part of.

I love to look at teacher quality in public schools.  I want to put pressure on the district, the school board, the principals, and parents to help teachers do the very best they can.  I love being with older people.  And, I love organizing groups to take action.  These are my contributions.

I encourage you to think about what’s good in your life… Make a list.  Forget what’s not- so-good for the moment.  And, then, take a look at where and how you contribute.  We all have different capacities, but I do believe that we all have something to offer.  Big and small efforts can improve our quality of life and the quality of life of those around us.