10 Repurposed Meditations

May 24th, 2011 § 0 comments § permalink

In a recent issue of Whole Living, I read a great list by Terri Trespicio: “10 Thoughts on Whole Living”. I like the list so much, I wanted to share it with a couple of my own additions.

1. Rather than try to fix your body, focus on how you want it to feel. Honor that and use your energy appropriately.

2. The mark of true confidence is the ability to look someone in the eye.

3. Let the seasons guide your diet. The earth grows what you need, when you need it. Eat locally.

4. Respect your feet. They’ve mastered the art of staying grounded while moving forward. (This one is perfect just as it is.)

5. Take care of your own reflection. Stop letting the mirror win. Love your body for what it is.

6. Enlightenment doesn’t always make a grand entrance. It slowly transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary.

7. Change happens somewhere between the acceptance of now and the anticipation of what’s to come.

8. Don’t obsess over weight loss. Wellness is about making your life bigger, not smaller.

9. Surprise yourself: Push past your physical limit.

10. Nothing connects you to who you are quite like the people who knew you when.

I am going to add one more…

11. Look deeply at every soul in your life for a reminder of how well you are loved.

What would you add to this list?

Ideas on Cultivating the Metta Sutta

May 18th, 2011 § 0 comments § permalink

A few years ago, amidst trying to find a peaceful, happy-medium in my relationship, a counselor suggested that I read If the Buddha Dated, by Charlotte Kasl. At first, I was all, Whoa, what? Nu-uh! But when I saw the book on the shelf, it was relatively small, looked fairly friendly and, after shuffling through the pages, didn’t look all that painful to read for a “self-help” text. I bought it. And I’ve read it, over and over again in the few years it’s since made a home on one of my book shelves. The way I read it is interesting though. I usually pick it up when I’m struggling with something in a relationship, and just kind of open it somewhere in the middle. I find useful information in whatever section I’m in, and I read a bit and eventually put the book down for the next time.

Last night, I happened to turn to the chapter called “Practice Loving Kindness to Yourself and Others.” It happened to be a relevant and useful reminder for the evening.

Practicing loving kindness (metta sutta), apparently also known at the ninth Perfection of the Heart, is something I try to do daily. I make a solid effort to not judge others (knowing how that feels–it’s horrible, yet not always easy to master); I’m usually quick to admit if I’ve been wrong or apologize if I’ve hurt (intentionally or unintentionally); and, I treat others the way I would want them to treat me. Of course, I’m not always successful; in fact, many times I just straight up fail. The chapter had some insight to me that was very relevant and a fitting reminder for the contention that’s cast a shadow into my life lately. Here are some snippets:

A new relationship (and old ones, I say!) often tests our ability to be kind. It’s easy to react with judgment or self-righteousness. When we become critical, “it’s time to back off for a moment and reflect so we don’t have two people separated from their hearts.”

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” said Jesus. I’m certainly not a religious person, but I can definitely find value and relevance in this idea. “Instead of pointing the finger,” writes Kasl, “we can look inside. We’ll find that everyone is inside us, because the whole range of human emotion lives in us.”

“Other people are constantly holding a mirror up for us to see ourselves…. If we are constantly afraid of someone being angry with us, we need to look at our own buried anger.” (I think this goes for fear of people not liking us, fear of someone not loving us, fear of people not valuing us–any emotion is interchangeable here.)

When we fully love and accept our self, we rely less on acceptance, approval or weight of judgment from others.

I love this one: “When someone is upset, we can remain a compassionate witness instead of feeling compelled to calm them down; shut them up; fix, analyze, or judge them; or push them away.” For some reason, this line reminds me of a memory. Many years ago, early into our relationship, my then-boyfriend (RB) and I had picked up his son, who was around age two at the time, for the weekend, overnight. I remember getting back home late morning and his son was crying and crying, and RB just didn’t know why. I remember watching him sit on the floor against the bed, holding his son in his arms as calm as can be, asking the toddler if he could tell Papa why he was sad. The toddler replied with a no and tears continued to flow. Papa sat there and just held his son in his arms, saying, “It’s okay to cry.” This memory comes up for me in a variety of moments where I need to be reminded of a precedent for compassion; it was such a beautiful (and sad) moment; it revealed to me at that time not only RB’s ability to love someone deeply but to be committed to practicing what is essentially loving kindness, patience and exemplary compassion for another human being. That moment is an example of the kind of person I strive to be.

A couple more:

“Another aspect of loving kindness is to remember that it’s not being free of imperfections that’s crucial to relationships, it’s being honest about our faults and mistakes. When we accept our humanness we become able to apologize (not grovel) for having been rude, insensitive, or dishonest. Our apology to another is a form of compassion to ourselves because it signifies acceptance. If we are struggling with various fears and foibles, instead of hiding them, we can reveal them, hopefully with compassion and amusement. By revealing ourself we find out if our new friend can join us on the journey.”

Finally: “When you say good-bye to someone or decide to not see them again, remember you are a moment in their story. Make it a story that doesn’t leave a scar.”

Defining Community

May 17th, 2011 § 1 comment § permalink

Read the May Newsletter >>

In a prana-focused flow class one evening last week, I was excited and wide-eyed listening to our teacher talk about community. It’s a topic on my mind as of late.  I started to draw my attention toward community after returning from Breitenbush Hot Springs on yoga retreat in April. Once I started to focus my mind on the idea of community – How does it affect me? What is its purpose?, etc. - “community” started popping up everywhere I went.

In class, we were reminded to acknowledge that in our practice space, we were in community. We feed off of each others energy and breath; we flow together. We arrive wherever we are to support each other in practice, play, work, ________ (fill in the blank); others are affected merely by our presence not to mention what we may extend to offer, however intentionally or unintentionally. Howard Thurman said, “Community cannot for long feed on itself; it can only flourish with the coming of others from beyond, their unknown and undiscovered brothers.” Or, sisters, as the case may be…

In the last year, my yoga practices, and intensive training especially, have allowed a huge growth in my personal community. I now call many gorgeous, talented, warm yoginis my friends, my yogic family. I consider them confidants and peers, examples and mentors. I consider them sisters who offer a chance for growth in my own life–through their shared ideas, processes, discussions, examples, and more.  And, that is an exchange: We offer things to each other.  If any of us had decided to take yoga teacher training at another time or with different teachers, our whole experience and influence upon one another would have had a completely different dynamic.

We would not be the same yoginis nor teachers we are right now.

In the May issue of my newsletter, I offer a new Restorative Yoga series in June and thoughts on building an independent home yoga practice with a focus on the delicious treat, restorative yoga!  I am starting to ramp up my private instruction practice while considering the benefits of teaching privates (individualistic) versus teaching classes (community). Each has their benefit. Traditionally, yoga was taught not as a class full of students to one teacher but one-on-one  -  teacher to student. How has the evolution of yoga instruction changed our practice and discipline as it has become more of a community-based practice? I wanted to know the ways others defined and considered community in their own lives.  In my research I found this, and  I particularly enjoyed what Barbara Kingsolver had to say:

There’s no shame in depending on each other. There’s heroism in ordinariness and connectedness and using relationship skills to get through difficult times, as opposed to the isolated heroism of the cowboy. Look at the things in your living room or refrigerator and realize they were made by thousands of people on different continents. The lemons we buy at the grocery connect us with a food chain, with people coming up from Mexico, being sprayed by pesticides. It’s easier to see just a lemon, but only when we see the whole line can we feel connectedness and responsibility.

Where do you currently find community? As we prepare to shed the cool, transitional spring season and head into summer, how can you cultivate supportive community? How could it impact your life?