Pic and a Poem #3

 

                                                           the tangled jungle of life

may require a lion nature

called to charge forward

with sharp claws, bared teeth,

weapons drawn and ready,

prepared to do what is needed

drawing blood

bite and claw of battle

ferocious action

will and brave heart.

that is one way

i can get lost there

finding a fight in the mere

shifting of shadows

battling the wind or

the cycles of night and day themselves

lions also know

when to get quiet,

to sit back

in powerful, fierce stillness,

in the face of oncoming arrows

or penetrating darkness

drawing back claws

unbaring teeth

no need to rise up roaring

in an attempt to hold

on to illusions of protection

to cease action

is another action

paws sunk into firm ground

the bedrock of being

claiming one’s territory

turn in the direction of

the light

in a stance of courageous surrender

or prepared for righteous battle

skilled and precise

witnessing the approach

of what will be

opening to what is

this potent presence can

turn daggers into rooted trees

and curses into unexpected gifts

Pic and a Poem #2

 A world of green and bright bird songs

     fills me with the word holy

     sacred temple of the wild
   I am in awe of your beauty  

           I belong to you

        When I am lost
         I sit on the soil
        with my trouble           
           my despair
      I cast my teary gaze
        up to your blessed
             branches

        Looking at you
         I find myself
           all of us
         in the world
     remembering comes
         a soft breeze
      or a bolt of clarity
       set into the open
      becoming arrives


Today I wrote this, and then I thought, this being a total experiment for me I might add notes about how I am feeling about it, challenges and triumphs that I might face. Right now I wonder, will I be able to sustain it, and for how long? I wonder if I will be able to successfully detach from the need for views, likes, external approval. Can I make some real shift around my tendency toward fearful strictness and perfectionism? It is an inquiry, and today I succeeded in presenting an offering from my heart.

Pic and a Poem #1

                                                   Go out to the waters edge
                                                          ready your net
                                                          close your eyes
                                                            inner vision
                                                               awake
                                                        draw in ocean air
                                                         lungs like waves
                                                           rise and fall
                                                                alive
                                                       a world at your feet
                                                     forming and changing
                                                               the pulse
                                                        flow of creation
                                                            around you
                                                            within you
                                                    cast your net fearlessly
                                                       free yourself at last
                                                           
                                                          

                                                       
                                                       




      Just to clarify, the pictures I post may be from today or from the many hundreds of photos I have taken and have not shared, this one was taken a year ago in Phuket, Thailand. The poems will be written in the moment and my intention is to leave them raw and unpolished. I want to honor whatever words come to me in the moment, organically, spontaneously. My objective is not perfection or reaching a standard, it is merely to create.
                                         
          

Words and Pictures

  My family and I recently had a vacation in Japan. We all had a wonderful time and it was another visually stunning journey. I took hundreds of photos. In my adult life I have been a bit of a dabbler, and I took several courses in photography in my late twenties and early thirties, and although I never completed those studies, I still love photography as a creative outlet. I find when I get behind my camera I really open my eyes, I see things more deeply, I notice subtleties and delicate nuances, the light and dark of things, the beauty of the large and the minute. I attune to symmetry, color, pattern, as well as the feeling, the emotion of things and people. I think I start seeing from a soul level when I use my lens. I am not a highly gifted or well trained photographic artist, but I delight in what I capture and value what I create. I have been pondering how to further use my photography in some way in my creative life.

On the plane returning to China I watched a movie called "Words and Pictures". It was not the best movie I have ever seen, but I did thoroughly enjoy it. The movie's central plot is built around two characters, one of them a male high school English teacher, the other a female Art teacher. Each is convinced that their chosen form of creative expression is superior to the other and so they begin a war between their classes, a battle between words and pictures. In the end it becomes clear that both words and pictures are evocative, powerful, beautiful, heartbreaking, joy inducing and ultimately so essentially human that we need them both. There is also a particular scene in the movie that points out the way music can touch into deep feelings and emotions in a way that other means can not, and I personally feel that dance does this as well. All of these forms we call the arts are really the soul expression of humanity, we would be lost without them.

When I got home I was reflecting on this and my desire to be even more creative, to create without so much considering and over thinking. I want to find avenues for daily expression without worrying about what other people will think of it or if they will value it. I am feeling like if I open the doors to a more varied and less cautious relationship with what I am putting out, the more my energy will become free flowing, and the more access I will have to my creative source, to my spiritual self. Kurt Vonnegut said, "Go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something."

Besides photography, a form I used to invest enormous energy in, is poetry. In fact poetry is one of the first things I was recognized for at school. I remember in second grade, as part of a study unit on Japan (my, how things come full circle), being assigned the task of writing a haiku. When the teacher came to my desk and handed it back to me I saw it was marked ++, the best you could get, and a gold star sticker bonus. I remember her smiling at me and telling me what a good job I had done. This moment figures so crucial to me that, although I don't remember the teacher's name, I still remember my haiku.

                                            The Moth
  
                                      the moth in the dark
                                   flutters like the lost dew drops
                                      and then goes away

So it occurs to me that it would be interesting to take this idea of words and pictures and start my own personal creative inquiry around my use of both these forms. I will begin trying to post a picture and corresponding poem to this blog each day. I don't want to get too strict or rigid with myself though either, so that it is an intention with lots of breathing room and wiggle space. I will use this as an additional component to the work I am doing around self empowerment and letting go of the need for external validation or specific outcomes in my work.

This concept of doing actions without attachment to outcome is at the heart of true yoga practice, which is the central pillar of my life. In The Bhagavad Gita,  Krisha says to Arjuna, " You have a right to your actions, but never to your actions' fruits. Act for the actions sake. And do not be attached to inaction. Self possessed, resolute, act without any thought of results, open to success or failure. This equanimity is yoga."

Indeed, to simply open to the creative intelligence that lives in each of us is an astounding proposition, and if each of us started a curious and playful endeavor into our particular creative pathways, whatever they may be, without the dependence on external validation, it would be nothing less than revolutionary, evolutionary!

Do something that feels like art to you, that thing that makes you feel whole, engaged, alive, and do it. "Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something."  I would love to hear about your creative experiments as well!!

             

Taking the Stage

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.  ~ Rumi

 I love to dance. I love it from a soul place. It is my canvass, I paint with rhythm and movement. Dance lifts me up, connects me to my joy, it is my magic and my passion. When I am dancing I find myself. Everything else disappears, there is just me, pure and whole. I love other things too, but nothing goes right to the heart of me like dancing does. It sets me free.

When I am anywhere, and I mean anywhere, where there is music that moves me, and even a tiny space to to accommodate that movement, I find the magnetic lure, the call to the dance, irresistible.My inner impulse to dance overrides any shyness, any sense of propriety, any fear of embarrassment. POOF! My brain empties out and my body and soul are in command.

I recently put head phones on in an Apple Store here in Shanghai and the music got its hooks in me. I found myself dancing with abandon through the store. These were wireless headphones, I might add, so I could roam freely. Even more interesting than me, was the fact that all the locals in the store just ignored me, the crazy dancing foreign lady. Weird and awesomely liberating!

When I go to a club, which is once in a blue moon, I don't care if no one else is on the dance floor, I will get my groove on solo, I don't mind, more dance floor for me! Sure people might think I am audacious, or an attention seeker, I do admittedly have a strong performer archetype, people might judge me, but my love of dance is stronger than fear. What deep medicine it is!

Just this past weekend I went to an Oktoberfest celebration with my husband Stephen, and another couple. We donned our traditional German threads and proceeded to the festivities with gusto. We ate, drank the customary brew, and the band began to play. My friend and I made our way to the dance floor, the energy of the crowd and the music was big and boisterous, we entered the funky flow. We danced, and laughed, and danced some more.

As the evening was wrapping up I was high on the vibe, I felt like I could dance through the night. The band started to play 99 Red Balloons (or 99 Luftballoons), and that song hits a sentimental chord from my youth. I was swept up in it immediately. A woman near me suggested I should get up on stage. I immediately thought, "Wow! Yeah, what a great idea! I would love to be up there!" I got the attention of a band member in front of me and gestured to ask permission to come up, he shook his head no, so I was ready to let go of the idea, but a few moments later he was signalling to me to go ahead and come up.  A few helping hands boosted me up, and there I was dancing on stage! This felt amazing, so I took it upon myself to encourage other ladies, including my beautiful friend who I came with, to come up and join me. I am not sure if the band loved that part, but anyway, it all ended with me and my friend plus a number of other women up on stage having a ball! We finally made our way to exit stage left and allow the band to take back the entertainment.

Once we were back down there, one woman approached me and said, "Thank you so much, that was so fun and when I saw you get up there I thought, "I want to be like her.", and then I did it, I got up on stage! I would never have done that if you didn't go up there first." We hugged and parted ways. I probably will never see that woman again, but I will never forget her. Some friendships are momentary, but transformational.

The big deal of life is to know what we love and do it boldly. It is good to step out of our comfort zones and be a little wild, a little crazy. This is about being fully expressed as human beings, and not dulling down what lights us up, or makes us shine, for fear of what people will think. When one of us takes the stage, it gives others the permission and courage to go there too.

What stage is calling for you to come on up? In the moment, do you listen to your inner voice that is telling you to go for it, whatever your "it" is? We all must risk stepping out of the shadows and into the light in order to truly grow.  This is it, your life, dance on!!

The Ultimate Question

This summer I was fortunate to be able to get back home to The United States and attend a retreat with my yoga sangha or family. We really are a family, we know the ins and outs of each other, we hold loving space for the light and dark sides of our beings, we have shared our skeletons as well as our sparkle and shine. We love each other no matter what. More than amazing, and yet so simply human.

Our humanness that holds our infinite soul nature. We explore that together.

One of the experiences we shared during that retreat was a powerful look into the concept of identity. At the core of yoga is the question "Who am I?". Even if you don't do, or care to ever do yoga, this is the ultimate question of a lifetime, for all of us. Isn't it? What more could we be here to do than to experience this amazing life, and day by day, come to know ourselves. To know and express oneself fully is ultimate realization.

Who do you think you are?

No, actually beyond thought. Who are you? Who are you, really?

In the experience we spent a length of time looking into the eyes of partners, who would change at intervals,  and asked each other to "tell me who you are". We each had time to speak and we each had a turn to listen. We did this for three hours.

I found this exercise compelling, difficult, illuminating, frustrating, transformational, cathartic, joyful, above all mind blowing. As I spoke in a stream of consciousness manner I found so many pieces of my identity bubbling up to the surface, all these parts of my persona wanting validation, air time, so to speak. I heard myself talking about being a mother, wife, teacher, thinker, feeler, experiencer of so much. I gave voice to my inner little girl and paid visitation to my joys and my sorrows, my love and my anger, desire and grief. How fascinating, all the things that came through my field of awareness as expressions of my identity. I was quite shocked at moments at the very words spilling out of me, words freeing pieces of me I had disconnected from or denied my attention.

When I listened to my partners I felt such deep compassion and connection. Each person in front of me, so vulnerable, raw, honest and perfectly beautiful. I saw that person, their eyes, their deep soul nature and I saw myself reflected back. In speaking and listening, witnessing the energy moving through each moment of response, it was like watching the slow unfolding of a beautiful lotus flower. Every tender moment of offering, each emotion or sudden recognition like petals peeling back to unveil the core, the very heart of it, the deep unwavering center point. There in that point of origin resides the true self. Infinite, eternal and whole, love without limit, freedom.

Our true nature is love, we must endeavor to go inward and discover it. We must be willing to brave the stormy waters of our deeply wounded parts and fully appreciate and own our phenomenally joyful, intelligent, divine aspects as well. We are called to shine the bright light of compassionate consciousness into every corner and hidden alleyway of ourselves, leaving no part left in exile. Yoga, Kripalu Yoga in particular, gives us a path to directly experience our true nature. It takes dedication, it takes practice. It is the journey of a lifetime and beyond.

I carry this question with me now. The question "Who am I?" is becoming my constant companion. Sometimes it is in my back pocket and sometimes I bring it right back to that close contact eye gaze, deeply looking, intentionally seeking. I hear it whispering to me when I get off balance or wander into murky territory, moments when fear is getting the best of me.

I am continuing this question as a directed practice. There is a meditation on this very same question that anyone can do. Here is some simple instruction.

Arrange your body in a comfortable position, perhaps sitting on a chair or on a cushion with an upright spine. Feel your body and notice your breath. After a few moments of settling in, begin to drop the question "Who am I?" into your field of awareness. Drop it in without any expectation of receiving an answer. The idea is to use the mind to pause the mind, to begin to pierce through the thought identity, in order to connect with the deeper self that is beyond thought and definition.

Many ideas and images might come up, acknowledge them and let them go. Return to the breath, and again drop the question in, "Who am I?" Practicing this self inquiry meditation can take you to the essence of what is here beyond thinking, like that lotus flower opening slowly to reveal the beautiful essence of the self.

This journey takes time and practice as I have said. I am at the point where I still get lost in my thoughts and ideas, but every once in awhile I arrive into moments of clarity and deep peace. Those moments inspire me to want to continue. I want to continue to expand my light and step by step make the pilgrimage home to my true self, to the love that is at the center, the deep well of my own heart and soul.

Home and Away

 Since moving to China my sense of, and connection to the word and concept of home has shifted. It is a bit blurry, its boundaries and borders are less clear. In June I packed up and headed off solo, back to our home in Connecticut. The kids were not finished with school, but I needed to get back for a retreat with my yoga family. On the plane, I was more than happy for some time to myself, no one to look after but me, myself and I, a glass of champagne, my own personal screen for movie viewing, kind of blissful. When my journey ended I arrived at the midnight hour, finally, at my own long lost doorstep, ready for the comfort of my homecoming.

I fumbled around in my fatigue with the numbers on the lock box that were the final obstacle to crossing that sacred threshold. One last click and I was in! Despite having had a friend come by to turn on lights and open windows, when I walked in the air was heavy and stale, the space quiet and hollow, vacuous, dead. No life in it, but now I was here. I was home, or was I?  I decided this was just the jet lag, this let down, this dullness. I was thankful for the company of a beer left for me and  an episode of "Friends" on Nick at Night. These friends were as good as it was going to get at the moment, so I leaned back into the couch, right where I always sit, and allowed myself to become heavy, sink down.  I went to bed with my loneliness. My husband and kids were a world away, me in bed alone, and them at work and school. I slept an unsettled sleep, feeling simultaneously at home and away.

The next morning I shook off my dust and opened the blinds and drapes, windows and doors to the day. Two of my best girlfriends finally made their way over and a heart beat returned to that place. My breath returned to me. The world of home started to get back its color and flavor. Home can be a town, in a certain country, on a certain road, at a particular house number but it is the life and laughter of the people who gather there, who laugh and cry there, it is the human spark, the fire of family and friends that give it its life breath. I found my liveliness as well, as I reconnected to the outdoor space of our Connecticut home. It sits in a patch of woods with a brook running through it. In the summer it has an orchestra of birds, frogs and bugs singing, a beautiful soundtrack for life.

After a couple days landing there, I was off to visit friends, go on a fabulous yoga retreat and reconnect with my spiritual family and teachers. Amazing. When I made my way back once again to our house in the woods Stephen and the kids were there waiting, and yes, this time, it was home again. A house turned back into a home, full of hustle and bustle, music and cooking, laughter and arguing, all of it. All if it good, rich, and astoundingly beautiful.

The summer unfolded before us as we pursued a jam packed itinerary of going to different places to see family and friends, ultimately making a circle encompassing almost half of the continental United States. Each place we visited was like another homecoming because of all the beloved faces we beheld, precious time shared, catching up with all that had transpired in the last year, marveling at how kids had grown, hugs and kisses. In the end though it always ended in the same bittersweet way, every single time, more hugs and kisses and "I love you. See you soon.", every time a goodbye. Parting truly is such sweet sorrow.

In the blink of the proverbial eye the time had escaped me and I was busy packing suitcases once again to go home. Funny, when I came to Connecticut I was coming home, and now, preparing for the return to China, going home. This expat experience has the unique quality of always being home and always being away, from one or the other. It is like straddling the globe, living in two worlds at once. Amazing and challenging, always a subtle feeling of displacement flavoring the big adventure.

We returned to Shanghai just over a week ago,and again I find I am stumbling around, I can't quite get the land underneath my feet. I feel a bit turned upside down and hollowed out. This too shall pass. I am beginning to reconnect with friends and getting my ducks in a row. My kids are back to school, activities are starting soon, my teaching will get organized, I will hit my stride. Right now there is a lingering longing for the other home. It will take a bit of time to resettle here. Another year of travel, learning and growing lies ahead, and my most important people are right here with me.

So what is home? Where is home? There is a reason why clichés get to be clichés and "home is where the heart is" holds so much truth. In a world where sometimes it seems home is all about square footage, zip codes, bells and whistles and keeping up with the Joneses, I have discovered that home, true home, lives in a different type of geography. Home is the landscape of love and devotion, the tender spaces that make life worth living, the world of relating and being, the infinite container that can hold all my best, my worst and every shade in between. Home is bird songs and lullabies, sleeping in and sleepless nights. Home is those you are with and those who you miss. Most of all home is the heart, my heart, connected to all the hearts that I carry with me every moment of every day whether that  particular moment feels like home or away.