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It's a theme I've connected to frequently...the earth, her energy and our relationship to her. This past week was Earth Day, and although I believe every day should be Earth Day, it's a time when the global spotlight shines brightly with our awareness (or lack thereof) to the planet. In the past, I have spoken about the earth being the element of our base (muladhara) chakra and how it represents our feelings of being safe, connected to others, and grounded. Last week in finding the anchors in our life (click here if you missed it), we did a visualization of sending down taproots of energy, securing ourselves to the planet so that change could awaken and we could rise into higher states of consciousness.
This week, however, I decided to look at Earth Day from a different perspective-that of Earth Stewardship. In researching this idea, I came across a statement that viewed stewardship as having three branches - Doers, Donors, and Practitioners. The Doers are those people who show up when there's an oil spill or environmental tragedy. They are the neighbors who head out to the local open spaces with a long-grabbing stick and trash bags for collecting debris that's gathered in washes, along riverbanks, or snagged in trees.
The Donors are those folks who financially lend support to organizations that work from an environmental aspect. And, finally, the Practitioners are those enacting bodies that make things happen, such as legislating change at the local government level. A prime example was announced this past week on Earth Day by the City of Los Angeles instituting a ban on plastic straws for any restaurant with 26 or more employees (they have two-years to make the switch).
As I read about these types of earth stewards, I found myself wondering which one of those best described me. I do my best to do my part - using reusable drinking containers, carrying my kit of bamboo cutlery (which includes a straw), stashing small collapsible bags to use for as many purchases as I can, driving a hybrid vehicle, and having a solar-powered home for electricity. Yet, I can't help but think that I'm still part of environmental degradation. I love to travel and jet-plane fuel is a huge contributor to greenhouse gases. I still shop at places that have things in plastic, including my often eaten lunch salad. I know that although I compost and recycle and have relatively little garbage going into the landfill bucket, China isn't buying as much in the way of recycling products so who knows if that intention is even paying off?
The next steps and intentions for me are to simply consume less where I can. That single use containers become the exception rather than the rule. That I continue to give voice through the platform of my yoga teaching to raise awareness. That I vote for people in the "practitioner" roles to enact systemic change. I contribute to the issues, therefore, I must become active in addressing them. And I believe it is up to me and people like me to give our voices as we are in a position of privilege and abundance. I have a beautiful home where I'm safe, I don't have to think about where my next meal is coming from or if my water is safe for drinking. I can move through society with ease and if I think about how many people around the globe don't have those things, whose basic needs are not being met, then all the more reason that this is my time for stewarding Mother Earth. As I have written in previous blogs related to this, if a migrant who's been traversing difficult terrain is handed a plastic bottle of water, or a bag of water with a straw in it, you can be sure they won't refuse it because it's not environmentally friendly.
But I can and so can you.
Are you willing to take the next steps necessary in your own life to honor Mother Earth and Father Sky?
I recently watched a short film which interviewed astronauts from all over the world-Russian, American, English, German, French, Indian, and Arabic. It didn't matter where they came from, their religious affiliations, gender, or beliefs as they all expressed the same idea. From outer space, you get a sense of how fragile planet earth is. She's sitting in the blackness of infinite space and time, with what seems to be the smallest of barriers-the earth's atmosphere, which allows us to inhabit the planet. Without that delicate barrier, we would not exist nor would any of the living creatures, plants, or humans on this earth.
Fragile. The time is now.
This time of the year in the desert, with the welcoming of spring, we also welcome windier conditions. The Coachella Valley (where we live) is situated between two mountain ranges that act as a wind tunnel. We are known for the wind turbines scattered throughout the desert landscape, generating electricity for various communities. We do get wind year round, but it seems to have a more consistent pattern from April through early June. As a result, not only do people's allergies get flared up but, according to Ayurveda, wind can also disrupt people's constitutional equilibrium. Many of us feel as though this time of year is one where we can feel being blown about, like swirling fallen bougainvillea leaves. It's also a time where we have big fluctuations in our local population with many snowbirds departing and three major music festival weekends where thousands of people flood to the desert over three consecutive three-day weekends. So it seemed appropriate to look at what anchors us down when we notice we're feeling scattered.
Certain times in our lives present us with incredible opportunities to drift through life without having particular plans. Have you ever bought a one-way ticket and arrived in a place without any plans? I was fortunate to have this in my life when I bought a one-way ticket from London to Harare, Zimbabwe. The intention was to step into Africa time, letting the trip unfold according to the news traveling along the traveler's grapevine. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life and I drifted through Africa for six months. Yet, when it was time to move onto what was next, I needed to throw down an anchor of security to re-group, work, and save some more money for future travels.
When we want to create change or encourage something to happen, we need to move from a place of feeling grounded rather than scattered. The metaphor of getting your bearings whilst aboard a ship/boat is to navigate from a place of knowing, often having the anchor holding you steady until you know the direction in which you want to move. And once you begin, you don't cut the anchor and leave it, but rather gather it up and move it with you.
Our life anchors aren't something outside of us, but what we carry within us. We may have people in our lives who steady us, support us along the way, and are "our rocks" but it's up to us to carry our own anchors. What happens if we rely on someone else to steady or calm us and one day, they're no longer there? It's something that we welcome and cultivate within ourselves so that no matter where we might be in the world, no matter what befalls us, we have ways in which to come back to the present moment and steady ourselves. So what anchors do you have in your life on a daily basis?
In yoga, we have one powerful anchor, our connection and relationship with our breath. It's with us 24/7/365 and we can go straight to it at any time. It can help calm us down, assist in focusing our energy, stimulate our nervous system, and give us a connection to what's important in the present moment.
This week in classes, we've been using the breath and visualizing our exhaling breath dropping our energy into the earth, establishing a feeling of being grounded and hugged by the energy of Mother Earth. On the inhaling breath, we visualize the breath rising from the energetic taproot of earth energy up through our bodies and exiting out the crown of the head. We send the energy as high and far out as we can imagine into infinite space. From that expansive space, we connect into the highest vibrations of celestial beings, Archangels, universal Prana, light or whatever it is that you connect to which feels bigger than the individual self. The exhaling breath then pours from these expanded realms as though pouring pure white light through the crown portal of our head, passing through our physical body before moving down into the earth's energetic field once again. We sit in the grounded space between earth and heaven, clearing, cleansing, and connecting to the highest levels of consciousness available to us.
Yet in order to rise, we must first be grounded. Just as a tree needs to send roots into the earth, finding not only nourishment but steadiness should winds gust or a deluge of rain arrive, the tree stays grounded just as its branches and leaves continue to expand.
This week, think about what anchors you daily-a meditation practice, contemplation, inspirational reading, walking in nature, watching open bodies of water, or listening to uplifting music. What is it that allows you to connect, even for just a few minutes, setting the compass of your day? I would love to hear what you use an anchor, so feel free to share.
Anchors away!
Do you ever feel as though you have many balls in the air without a clue as to where they might land? It's been feeling a bit like that for me over the past few months with many opportunities for change and transition yet without many answers as to what that will actually look like.
My husband and I have decided that as much as we love our house, it's time for us to downsize. We put the house on the market back in November and, thus far, haven't had any bites. People ask us, "Where are you moving to? What are you going to do?" to which we reply, "We don't know...it depends on when the house sells." Before we can take the step toward what's next, we need to sell the house. This week's thought is definitely connected to my blog from two weeks ago, "What's Next? What's Now?" (click here if you missed it) yet differs slightly in that throughout most of our lives, we have many things we want answers to, yet those answers don't arrive when we want them.
On a personal level, we have the not knowing regarding my Mother who has dementia. She is in a care facility as she's unable to tend to her own needs. She'll be turning 87-years old in June and we don't know how much longer she'll be with us. It might be another 10 years and we have to envision the scenario where her financial status will support her throughout her entire life, even though we have no idea how long that will be. We just don't know. And in a sense, it's not a different question that all of us ask at some time during our life..."How long will I live? When will I die?" and since we aren't particularly good at talking about it as a culture, we shove it to the back-burner of our consciousness and let it sit there until something prompts it forward, such as coming more directly to it through my own Mother's situation.
Less dramatic examples are things such as waiting to hear about college acceptance or landing a job. Here in the States, the end of March is when graduating students find out where they've been accepted into college. Most of them apply to schools beginning in November/December and have been waiting until now to find out where they'll be spending their collegiate days. They've had to wait...not knowing. Ever had that job interview where they say, "We'll get back to you?" and for however long it may be before they do or don't, can feel like an excruciating eternity.
One of the biggest challenges we have is feeling comfortable with being uncomfortable, with not knowing what will happen. It is said that part of our spiritual journey and growth is to learn how to find ease in the discomfort of our own lives. If we find ourselves building scenarios about what could possibly happen, writing the script for the unknown and it begins to generate anxiety, this is the opportunity for us to simply notice what's happening. At first, it might be a flutter in the belly or tension in the jaw. The subtle signs in our body can be the clues for us to recognize when you've launched ourselves into an unknown and only imagined future and to return to the present moment.
Let us remember the human condition of wanting to have answers even when they have yet to manifest. Let us work within our practices of yoga, meditation, and contemplation to wrangle these futuristic fantasies back and recognize the perfection of the here and now.
One way...take a deep breath and fully absorb your current moment. What we know for certain is the here and now. Enjoy being right where you are and let the rest unfold!
This past Monday, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw a post that cited a recent study finding that chanting and mantra had no effect on changing our brain waves. As I'm reading I'm indignantly thinking "What? Who did this study...I don't believe it!" and at the end of the article it said, "April Fools". I was never a big fan of April Fools' day as the word "fool" or being "foolish" often meant doing something that we'd later regret. So the theme for this week has been tweaked slightly to the idea of being playful.
Last weekend, my husband Ed and I co-facilitated a workshop on Yoga for Healthy and Conscious Aging. Some of the activities challenged our cognitive abilities, hand-eye coordination, and balance. Some of the practices included working with balls or bean bags with a partner with laughter erupting frequently throughout the session. At the close of the weekend, one of the participants noted her highlight as reconnecting to her ability to be playful. All of this inspired me to bring a sense of lightness and joy into classes this past week. We can cite many instances of challenging and difficult things happening around the world which can mean that life can feel serious and heavy at times. Connecting to the energy of playfulness and humor supports our mental health, releasing feel-good hormones and bringing smiles and laughter into our day. When's the last time you were really playful?
Recently, I was one of many adults waiting in line at a local health food store. People were sitting or standing around, looking rather stoic, some impatient, some bored. This little girl, likely around the age of six caught my eye as she was in her own little world. She was dancing around, kicking her legs to and fro, as though working on her private dance moves. She didn't seem to notice that nobody else in the establishment was doing the same thing as herself and it didn't matter. I thought to myself, "How awesome is that? When in our lives did it switch from being okay to dance around to feeling completely self-conscious?" Of course, as we grow older, we adopt certain rules of social behavior and decorum, but perhaps we could soften the rules at times and dance in public, go outside without shoes for fear of tracking something back onto the clean house tiles or get dirt or paint under our fingernails.
As a kid, my favorite thing at school was the ringing of the recess bell. I would tear out of class and head either to the monkey bars, jungle gym, tetherball or dodge ball court, or engage in some tag or kickball. I would play hard and with full commitment, being so completely engrossed in the experience that the sound of the return to class bell always seemed to come too soon. Looking back, I can't exactly say when that free playfulness ended but morphed into more organized athletic pursuits and structure. Sadly, in some ways, life got more serious with commitments and goals and the art of play got dampened. That was until studying in my first year of physical education at University, where one of our subjects was called "Play Theory". I remember thinking, "Really? This is an area of study?" And as it turns out, yes, it is an area worthy of study as it relates to being so radically present in an activity that we enter "flow states". So in a way, each elementary school recess was another opportunity to get in the flow of simply playing and being in the present moment.
My thought for this week is to reconnect to your inner child, anywhere from 5-10 years old, before the filter came on and you were free to express and play. As a practice, close your eyes and see that six-year-old sitting in front of you. What does he/she say? What do they look like? And imagine your two selves looking into each other's eyes, one full of wonder, the other full of wisdom. What is the message each of you would give the other? Then allow your six-year-old self to merge with the current you and recognize that they are always present and have the ability to remind us to connect to the playful side of ourselves.
And if you need a nudge, play with your pet, your child or grandchild. Head outside and walk along a curb or skip. Let the energy of your inner child show you the way to release the imaginative and creative side of who you are. Play theory...it's not just a theory but something you can actually do. Now go out and find yourself a playground and get to it!
