Doubt is a Terrible Party Guest

Street art in New York City

     Spending time in a yoga community at the end of a year and into the next has become a mandatory ritual in my life. This year, I noticed that it had become too mandatory. After all, it seems more nourishing to ring in the new year with an open mind, rather than a doubting, or rigid one. At 8pm on New year's eve, I had finally found the perfect way to end the year. We would go to the Jivamukti Yoga School for some kirtan (music), followed by mauna (silence). However, my loved one and I had already agreed to watch some fireworks from the ferry. A compromise was made, we would spend a little time in silence at Jivamukti, and then go to the ferry.

Walking into Jivamukti, I felt the beauty created by an intention filled atmosphere. It was an honor to meet the space and community on a night of ritual. After relishing the silence for some time, we felt satisfied, centered, and ready to mindfully change gears. Or so I mistakenly thought. At the ferry building, I began browsing through the yoga program handed to us on our way out. I learned there would also be arati (light ceremony), prasad (blessed food), and an uplifting message from the revered founders of the yoga school. The evening program allowed folks to come and go, so in my mind, we could still go back!

Fireworks from Staten Island Ferry

Suddenly I was not where I wanted to be. I was trapped on a boat with my wonderful boyfriend, fireworks (thought by some to scare off evil spirits in the new year), and Ms. Liberty shining at us. Why was my mind resisting the last few hours and moments of the year? I read somewhere that doubt is a form of storytelling, or the lies we tell ourselves. My doubt story included the need to teleport myself back to the yoga school. If we wanted to have a proper meaningful time, we would have to get off the boat and run! I didn't realize I had invited doubt to my new year's eve celebration, but it showed up anyway.

Ultimately, doubt gave me the unexpected gift of compassion. Yes, doubt knocked at the door, and I let it in for an extended stay. I spent the end of the year dancing with it. I'm sure I will continue to greet doubt when it comes, but in the new year, I don't want to spend all night listening to it's tall tales.

Minnesota Nice Meets Manhattan

When in doubt, practice yoga in the subway station.

It took me a couple of days to adjust to the vibe here in New York City. Coming from Minnesota, I have been schooled in a passive-aggressive communication style, which not every region understands, or appreciates. Tips passed down through the generations include being overly polite, apologizing for no reason, and trying to keep irritation in tidy internal compartments. Garrison Keillor has made a career in lovingly pointing out these idiosyncrasies. I'm hoping this two weeks in New York might be just enough time to reset my "Minnesota nice" into a larger array of responses and experiences.

In addition to marveling at New York's get-to-the-point directness, I'm looking for some yoga classes to attend. Meanwhile, the anything goes atmosphere at the subway station, often accompanied by live music, will do just fine.

When personal space includes a full body press from strangers on every side (subway commute), you can be sure tolerance and compassion already play a big role in the lives of New Yorkers. Yoga in action is alive and well here. These observations and experiences are stretching my heart, and shining an appreciative light on all of us humans.

Holidays with a Twist

Reflecting on your own divinity

     When it comes to the holidays, I have become one who craves a silent and holy night. A sacred time to both reflect and celebrate the divine within. The end of the year feels like a natural and mandatory reflection time. If it wasn't for the discovery of yoga communities, I would probably still be wondering where one could find a sacred space for such reverent reflection. Yoga communities everywhere roll out the "welcome to yourself" mats, celebrating the the season within.

Many will be celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ. I too, will honor him, who's spirit lives within my own heart. For me, this divine compassionate presence has many names. If limited to one name, it could be easily distilled to "love." In honor of Christ, who also suggested we look within, I celebrate his wisdom, and how he lived his life in love. His spirit simply keeps pointing to the breath, the spirit of love, and the connecting energy within me. Showing us the way, the truth and the light, within our own miraculous selves.

For many, the holidays are a time of tradition. I'm a traditionalist too. It's just that my tradition is to do things a little differently every year. Last year, my holidays consisted of having the Christmas flu. I felt like it was my body and spirit's way of saying, "you're not going anywhere until you sit in awareness of all that IS." Oddly enough, the flu was what I needed to take that time. This year, the holidays will be spent in a sea of mostly strangers. New York City will be the backdrop. A wonderful place to acknowledge the divine presence that illuminates everyone, no matter their lifestyle or perspective. It also happens to be a great place to find extra special holiday yoga classes!

"Vast inner solitude"

Wishing everyone real peace as the seasons get ready to turn again.
Rainer Rilke's words remind us not to underestimate the importance of finding time to sit with your own divinity:

              "What is necessary, after all,                                                               Is only this: solitude.

                Vast inner solitude.

                To walk inside yourself

                and meet no one for hours --

                that is what you must be able to attain."

Neutral Expressions

Natural Expression

     The last couple of months have been an experiment in living life at a slower pace. No longer having the desire to be everywhere at the same time. Every moment feels blessedly important, regardless of what is happening or not happening.

The mid-western autumn is as beautiful as I can ever remember it being. The trees are full and bursting with color, sometimes showing even more impressively when the backdrop of the sky is gray. The temperature fluctuates from day to day, along with my emotional reactions to the upcoming change of season.

On the colder days, you can almost see people moving into more contemplative states of being. Expressions on people's faces are becoming more neutral. Mannerly greetings on the street are being replaced with respectful silence. On the slightly warmer days, effortless grins return with the sun.

This time of year asks for our flexibility and acceptance of others, as we all adjust to change. The social expectation of smiling all the time seems to close for the season, giving our facial muscles a deserved break. I noticed this for myself on halloween, while wearing a mask for a few hours. I was struck by how relaxed my face felt behind the mask. Maybe the quieter seasons show us how to take a break from our own show.

Living in a challenging climate, there are no expectations of perfect weather, or perpetual sunshine. The phrase "it's all good," is understood as myth, probably invented by those afraid of the dark. Truth reveals that life is dynamic, changing, bright, empty, thunderous, bitter, colorful, foggy, clear, and so much more. Letting go of limiting concepts, ideas, and expectations of how things should look, we become as graceful as the twirling leaves.

Jai Ma! A Tribute to Dixie

Flowers for Dixie

     Someone special has made a grand transition this week. She checked out of this particular world on the eve of Canadian Thanksgiving, which could not have been more appropriate. Dixie was the maker of delectable meals and the giver of constant thanks. She also happened to be Canadian. Her adult children and my dear friends, know how fortunate they are to have a mother that lives on in love.

We will continue to include Dixie in all things beautiful. I will miss her insight and opinions (always given with a grain of gourmet salt.) I admired the way she made an ordinary day feel like a special occasion. She brought an effortless elegance wherever she went. In her presence, I felt cherished. Her time here was too short for our understanding. I find comfort knowing the quality she brought to every moment, and to her relationships. I imagine her energy is now helping to heal the whole world.

Hindus also gathered this week to celebrate the Divine Mother. Since learning of Dixie's transition, the words Jai Ma (Victory to the Mother) continue to roll from my heart, out of my mouth. Victory to the Mother in all of her forms.

Nature Deprivation Disorder

Eloise Butler Bird Sanctuary

     Cityscapes create a romanticism for my senses. I feel energized by the sight of people everywhere. Erratic urban noise has been known to put me into a deep sleep. There always seems to be a new and creative concept being unrolled, making city life even better. I notice the positive aspects of city living more than the drawbacks, and have long felt at home in this environment.

Then, last summer, I started to feel more like a robot then a human. A strong case of "Nature Deprivation Disorder" had kicked in. Whether or not this term was backed by medical research wasn't important to me. The term understood my physical and psychological need for Mother Nature. I knew I needed quality time with life, outside of a city routine. I could feel this need for nature in my bones. Michael Todd shares more about our deep need for nature here.

Standing in Nature

Dedicating several seasons to re-sync with nature has already been inspiriting. Carving out a chunk of time in a congested schedule did not seem possible or likely, which was exactly why I had to do it. Taking time to revel in being alive is not just for the young, retired, train jumping hobos, or super wealthy. 

When I stand in silence with nature, the teachings are beautifully obvious: 
-There is no need to rush.
-All things happen as they are suppose to  happen. 
-Conditions will not always be pleasant, nor will they always be unpleasant. 
-We are all part of nature, reflections of nature, and reflecting back to nature. 

Thank You S.N. Goenka

Sculpture by Kimber Fiebiger

     A great contributer and teacher of Vipassana meditation, S.N. Goenka, died a couple of days ago. He was 90 years old. I feel fortunate to have attended a 10 day meditation just last month, using his technique and guidance. His talks (via video) were incredibly inspiring, always leaving me with a beaming smile. One night he mentioned, "Buddhists are not afraid of death." They considered death to be a promotion. How wonderful it is to think about him moving onto his promotion now. May all beings be happy, peaceful, liberated. This was his greatest hope, and the purpose of vipassana meditation.

Goenka spent his early life preoccupied with money and business, which he remembered as the years of greatest discontent. In a search for migrane headache relief, he was led to vipassana meditation. The practice changed him profoundly. He dedicated the rest of his life sharing the teachings and practice of meditation. He wasn't interested in plaques, statues, or applause of any kind. He wasn't interested in living a life fulfilling his egoic needs. Some might imagine him to be dry or dull? Although he was serious about his practice and dedication to mediation, he had an instinctive sense of humor (of the side-splitting variety). He lived peacefully and undoubtedly departed in peace. 

The shortness of our life span can be mind boggling. When we live mindfully in the moment, there is nothing else we need to do. Life is being met and lived. When we sit in silence with our ever changing selves, we learn to be present for all aspects of our precious lives (death included).