The Sweetness of Community

 

 

The gloom has shifted and the light shines once again.  As I had written in last week's blog, things had been feeling a bit gloomy.  Part of that was due to the loss of a fellow yoga instructor, Scott Sarber, who passed away earlier in July.  His passing was quite a shock to our extended yoga community.  He had just been diagnosed with a stage four lymphoma and within a couple of weeks he had transitioned into whatever awaits us.

 

Scott was quite a character.  Those who met him knew that he had a bristle to him...questioning, challenging, wondering.  He was deeply devotional and loved to chant and dance.  He touched many lives and has left us with many solid memories. 

 

Last year when I was undertaking the Global Seva Challenge for India, Scott asked how he could help and then proceeded to sell a few hundred dollars worth of the Global Wristbands.  He sold out once and needed more.  We'd meet in Koffi to "do the deal".  He'd slide an envelope of cash across the table of what he'd sold and I'd slide a new assortment of brightly colored bands back to him.  This one intention, of stepping into supporting not only me but a greater cause was a reflection of how Scott stepped upon the earth.

 

He even had the grand fundraising idea of a drag queen show at one of the local bars in town.  His enthusiasm outweighed the reality of getting that off the ground but he was excited at the idea nonetheless. 

 

To celebrate Scott's spirit and to come together in our grief, Urban Yoga in Palm Springs held a memorial this past week.  I have been teaching at Urban for two years and have attended many kirtans and other events at this studio.  But this event was different to all others.  We came together to honor and remember Scott through a yoga practice, people sharing thoughts, chanting and a puja (offering) ceremony.  The underlying current was one of pure love.  You could feel that all who had gathered were there in a spirit of being so open and loving.  Judgment and pretense seemed to melt away.  Voices joined in song, hands were held and tears were shed.  Hugging seemed one way to remind us that we are all connected.

 

I felt so honored to be part of this community and grateful for all of the satellite communities that I have as part of my life.  And although I've had the lifelong mantra of "I can do it myself" with a fierce streak of independence, this gathering was a way to feel supported and held by others.  We all need community.  We all need others to lean on.  We all need each other because we are all one.

 

Thanks for the lesson, Scott.  For bringing us together one more time with you leading the way.  May you rest in peace and forever be held in our hearts.

Scott with dear friend, Karol Trejo

Appreciate the Here and Now

 

 

Over the past couple of weeks things have seemed a bit gloomy.  I've found myself in morning meditation trying to come to grips with the suffering in the world.  Difficult times seem to go in cycles and then there's that saying that things happen in threes.  Tragic news often seems to cluster, one story about the premature death of someone's husband, another story about the premature death of a local yoga teacher and then a raging fire sneaking over our local mountains dropping a blanket of ash and smoke.

 

When the tragic news gets closer to home, I often wonder when it will end.  I have moments of being unable to both comprehend and bear stories that just simply seem unfair.  I try to look for the lesson within all of it, taking a step back to see the bigger picture of this journey we call life.

 

I know that everything is in transition with only death and taxes being givens.  Yet when sad stories strike home I can't help but be fully in my human-ness wondering if my spiritual journey can sustain me.  I feel sad and at a loss for words for what can seem so senseless.  How do I make sense of it all and how do those directly affected do it?

 

Thus far my process has been to simply be in the feelings that arise.  Not to deny, shove down or ignore that I feel loss and am unable to make it feel immediately better.  And then as I wade through that heaviness, I begin to reach for the tools that I trust will support me.  Gratitude is a solid starting point.  Recognizing all that is good in my life and in our collective lives.  Realizing how much there is to be thankful for and to once again connect to my purpose.

 

It all reminds me that life is short.  It flies by so very quickly.  It reminds me to find my breath and begin again by taking that next step, connecting to purpose, reaching out to those I care about and trusting my yoga practice to be there under each and every footfall.

 

The first time I started to know this process was after my father died at the young age of 46.  I was 19 at the time and had no coping skills to handle such an impact of loss and grief.  Before that moment I was skipping through life.  His death was an emotional turning point and powerful lesson.  Life is short...get on with it.  Don't put off what it is you want to do.  Travel and see the world.  Go for what it is that lights your fire.  Commit to relationships.  And simply have those moments where you laugh so hard it takes your breath away.

 

So begin by finding the breath and all else will flow from that moment.  As I experience the suffering, I realize the full impact of all of my life's cumulative lessons.

 

Live it...breathe it.

Complaint Department Is Closed

 

 

Imagine this.  You wake in the morning as the sun is just peaking over the horizon.  You hear birds chirping and a gentle rustle of leaves being touched by the breeze.  You have no immediate agenda for the morning other than to take your time and see how it unfolds.  You decide to brew yourself some tea.  You open the tin that holds your favorite loose leaf chai blend and...it's empty.  "Okay you think...I'll just have my second favorite chai blend" and to your dismay, that tin is also empty!

 

You decide to put the kettle on anyway and find that the only tea is a single bag of Lipton.  Then you notice you are out of your favorite creamer that makes all tea taste oh so sweet.

 

So, what's you're reaction?  When your significant other walks into the kitchen what do you say? 

 

Option one:  "Good morning, my beloved.  Sleep well?  Did you see the sunrise?"

 

Option two: "Hey...did you finish off all of the chai without letting me know?  I'm having to settle for a Lipton's...s'pose you don't want any, do you?"

 

Which one sounded familiar?  Which option do you want to sound familiar?

 

I prefer option one as I want to think that I'm evolving enough to see the beauty in all things, most of the time...even when I'm out of chai and have to make due with what's around.  But I know that option two is an all too familiar modus operandi.   Something happens and a complaint finds its way to the front of the palate and often escapes past the lips before it can be filtered into a positive response or no response at all.

 

We all know people who complain about seemingly everything.  Nothing is right, or good enough, or is too fast or too slow.  The service was lousy, the movie had a terrible ending, the popcorn was stale, the ticket price outrageous.  And even when things seem to be going well the complaints still come.  It's as though the ability to language differently is completely out of the scope of awareness.

 

And it's difficult to hang around with people who complain.  It's a contagion.  It's as though you get led along the pathway to recognizing all that could be better.  So, if that holds some truth, then the opposite must hold some truth as well.  What if we made a choice to NOT complain for an entire day?  That's right...the entire day.  Could you do it?

 

In fairness, for all of us who do complain, we can find solace in the fact that the brain is wired toward a negativity bias.  This has been discussed by neuroscientists including Rick Hanson, Ph.D. in the book Buddha's' Brain and others.  Humans tend to recall negative experiences more readily than positive ones.  The point, however, is not to suppress the negative but rather understand that we have the power to shift toward a more positive bias. 

 

I don't know if I could, but I am certainly willing to give it a go.  I'm more than curious to see if I catch myself complaining.  And I know that obstacles will pop up that would normally trigger my complaint button.

 

Imagine this.  A complaint-free day.  Try it just once.  You never know...that too, might be contagious and you'll be fully able to enjoy the sunrise and a cuppa Lipton's!

Maroon 5 Rockin' The Vortex

 

 

Last weekend, Ed and I loaded the dog and our bikes into the car and headed out for a long weekend in Sedona, Arizona.  For those who are unfamiliar, it's an area located north of Phoenix and is renowned as a place of powerful vortex energy and stunning red rocks.

 

I hadn't been to this area since I was a kid, camping with our family and spending time fishing for trout.  The scenery is spectacular, with canyons and rocks changing mood as the sun rises and falls.  You can't help but have moments of awe as you crest a hill and see the valley open below with its display of natures palate...deep rusty reds, gold, green, white and vibrant blue skies. 

 

They say that the Native Americans knew that this was a place of transition.  It is known for concentrated pockets of energy that balance the yin/yang (female/male) energies and is powerful.  They knew that it wasn't a place to settle down as the energy was mighty, but rather a place to go on vision quest or sit in reflection.

 

We spent our time hiking and biking, our own version of having a time out from our everyday life.  But what was almost more striking than the landscape and energetic pull was seeing people hiking in these sacred areas and being completely disconnected from the natural experience.

 

As we were scrambling around Bell Rock, a vortex, we came across a young family.  The kids faces were slathered in sunblock, they were talking excitedly and the Dad was hiking with Maroon 5 (a top of the charts pop band) blasting out of his pocket, most likely from his iPhone.  Here we were, placing our hands on the rocks to feel the earthy, rough texture, stopping to take photographs and climbing to heights to enjoy the expansive vista.  And then we see this young family, out together, in nature, accompanied by the latest pop music hit.

 

I know it seems judgmental to be harking on this family as they were out and seemingly enjoying themselves.  But I was so shocked by the obvious disconnect.  Kids model our behavior and what they were being taught was that it was ok to hike and listen (without headphones) to loud music, in a sacred place.  It made me wonder about being so connected to our devices, sounds, noises and moments of instant gratification that we don't even realize the beauty that is sitting right in front of us.

 

I wanted to yell out, "Stop the music!  Stop talking!  Just sit for a minute and see what you notice and all the sounds that you're missing out on..."

 

But, I didn't.  I just turned to Ed and said, "wow...that's a good blog topic".  It held up the mirror for how many times I've missed the beauty that was sitting right in front of me because I was simply too preoccupied to notice.

 

Beauty is there...it's everywhere.  All of the time.  We just stop seeing it.  Hearing it.  Smelling and touching it.

 

Let's wake up and drink it in and save Maroon 5 for another time and place.