Meditation Spaces

A space to meditate.

     In meditation our eyes are generally closed or downcast. Why then is an effort made for the beautification of meditation spaces? What is the purpose of making an altar when our focus is suppose to be inward?

I see the adornment of space as an intention to see beauty in whatever arises in the mind/body during practice. If my mind starts to feel too cluttered during meditation, I can reflect on the simplicity of my surroundings for support in coming back to the present moment.

On days when meditating seems impossible, setting a heartfelt tone for the space tends to change resistance into gratitude.

I have practiced meditation in yurts, halls, domes, and even in a meditation tower. Docks, big rocks, decks, and bedroom floors make perfectly fine practice spaces too. Some believe you should not meditate where you sleep, and never use sleeping pillows as meditation cushions. I have taken this advice, since meditating on a bed tends to bring on a serious case of drowsiness.

Simple altar.

Wherever you can find space to meditate, take a few moments to set a contemplative object (flower, stone, candle, or anything from nature that catches your attention). It's as if these objects continue to hold the physical space, so we can more easily move toward the adventurous journey of introspection. At the end of practice, opening our eyes, we are welcomed back to our surroundings with the loving tone that got us started.

Yoga & Kayaking

Meet the changing sea.

     It should no longer surprise me when the practice of yoga compliments other activities. Every moment is a backdrop for conscious awareness to reveal the innermost self so that we may experience a state of yoga (union).

Yoga helps me recognize both the stuck and freely moving energy in my mind and body. The awareness yoga brings keeps me interested in a sea of mental, emotional and physical fluctuations, as they arise and pass away.

Summer Solstice in Halibut Cove, Alaska.

When kayaking we also need to find a centered seat of awareness to enjoy the ride. Once seated and relaxed, kayaking can become an incredibly soothing, moving meditation.

If you prefer to have a frustrating time while kayaking (you never know), then try to use only your arms to move the craft. However, if you want to open and strengthen your whole upper body with ease, move from your heart and navel center to power the kayak. The lower body becomes the foundation, while the uplifted torso rotates evenly, side to side. The power for the rotation and the origin of your movement comes from the navel and solar plexus region. Begin the rotation from that place, just as you would with a sitting twist. As always, keep the rotation within your active range of motion.

Once an ease in movement is established from the torso, paddling in sync with the breath becomes second nature (especially if you already have a yoga/meditation practice). Keep the arms lifted (like forward tilted cactus arms) yet relaxed through the shoulders. Draw the tips of the shoulder blades into the back to keep a strong connection with the arms and torso. The paddle takes a quick dip into the water and fluid, gentle rotation takes you to the other side. All the while, staying centered in your seat.

Now for the really fun part: Can you imagine a light shining in all directions from the heart chakra. With each rotation your body becomes an energetic lighthouse, sending and receiving love.

-You can practice these movements from any sitting position, with or without a kayak.
-It's useful to practice at least 10 minutes of asana before and after kayaking. 

Spaghetti & Moose Meat

Wild Alaskan Salmon on a Stick

     The retreat center (where I'm working this summer), serves pescetarian meals for the guests and staff. Stepping off the retreat campus, many of the locals hunt for their dinner. I have been cordially invited to try moose ribs, spaghetti & moose meat, and even bear.

As a yoga lover, I am often assumed to be a vegetarian. In reality, I relate most to being a "flexitarian," with a strong preference for organic and locally grown food. So yes, I did try the spaghetti & moose meat! I didn't completely savor it, (unlike the salmon on a stick we made the previous week), so I stayed with the small sample, and relished the experience of sharing a dinner with the generous hosts. This worked out especially well, since I then had accommodations for a locally made rhubarb pie.

I'm intrigued by the diets people choose for themselves (in places where the luxury of choice exists). One of our staff members went from being a raw food vegan for over twenty years, to a now paleo diet (from no meat, to mostly meat). Research and experimentation has led her to what she feels is best for her body. I have also met people who claim to live on coffee alone, and others who are happy getting every meal at a restaurant. Some regularly deprive themselves of food, while others consistently overindulge.

In a New York Times Magazine article, Our National Eating Disorder, Michael Pollen questions the common practice of anxious and guilt ridden eating. It turns out that obsessively counting calories most likely interferes with the wisdom of our senses, causing stress instead of enjoyment at meal time. Unfortunately, stress and proper digestion do not work well together. So what is the "right" way to eat?!?

Surely there can not be one "right" plan for everyone! Personally, I believe that a meal obtained with compassion, cooked with love, and consumed with gratitude is the most important criteria for a healthy diet. What works best for you?

No Cars, No Roads

No cars, no roads.

     Ten days in Alaska. Ten days without the sight or sound of cars. Ten days of eagle watching. With extended daylight hours, ten days has felt more like twenty.

Something about the stillness here at Stillpoint Lodge has amplified my awareness of the noise in my head. This is not a ten day silent retreat, but such retreats have helped me prepare for the drastic transition here. Eventually, I expect the inner noise will grow more quiet, like my surroundings.

A sea otter spiraling through the water reminds me to enjoy the day. It's my day off. There are no shops, nothing to purchase, no admission fees. Away from urban living, I no longer need my google calendar! Life has finally become simplified. I'm still adjusting to the these new found freedoms. Everything feels surreal, some things are uncomfortable. At times, it is hard to grasp spending five months in this remote setting. Thought waves of disturbance try to interrupt the possibility of contentment.

The one constant is nature. The snowcapped mountains have felt welcoming since the moment I spotted them from the plane. They are the anchor for my experience here. Sitting with them, they hold the space for all of my encounters (real and imagined).