John Updike in 1962.Credit...Dennis Stock/Magnum Photos
I will try not to panic, to keep
my standard of living modest
and to work steadily, even shyly,
in the spirit of those medieval
carvers who so fondly sculpted
the undersides of choir seats.
— John Updike
I've always loved this photograph
of Updike. He's no longer alive but
he left an astonishing amount of
fiction, poems, essays, and criticism.
I stumbled on this quote from an
old Life magazine, and find it
remarkably relevant to my own life
at present.
Staying steady, attentive, and calm
in our daily lives despite the tumult
around us is a good prescription.
But it's the idea of focused artistry,
which may never even be
glimpsed by others that I find
most inspiring.
Whether it's the way you wield
a knife in preparing a meal,
enjoying the feel and furl of
a proper lead pencil upon
a simple shopping list,
or crafting your yoga asana
when alone and reaching for
the sky or earth.
Purpose and beauty
in the little things
can nurture you.
It's more powerful and immediate
than the clamor outside.
Make it so.
Thich Nhat Hanh wrote in his
book The World We Have:
"So many beings in the universe
love us unconditionally. A bird song
can express joy, beauty, and purity,
and evoke in us vitality and love.
The trees, the water, and the air don't
ask anything of us; they just love us.
Even though we need this kind of love,
we continue to destroy these things.
We should try our best to do the
least harm to all living creatures.”
We're approaching the summer solstice
-a splendid opportunity to feel our
deep connection to our spinning earth.
We might pause on the longest day
of the year, a threshold into summer,
to consider how the entire universe
offers itself to us again and again
with no expectation of reciprocity.
But what an opportunity to begin
to nurture a reciprocal relationship.
What might that look like for you?
Thich Nhat Hanh is right.
Non-harming - Ahimsa,
one of yoga's ethical principles -
is the least we can offer to
the wonders around us.
And to ourselves each time
we step on the yoga mat.
Goyō Hashiguchi
Yesterday, I heard someone say
"Oh, you realized you're a leaf.
Just, you know, a small leaf on
an enormous tree." There was
a sparkle in her voice when she said it.
It stopped me in my tracks. And I
realized that's exactly what I am too.
Just a single leaf.
But part of a bigger ecosystem - my East
Nashville neighborhood, my yoga tribe,
my family - generations back and forward.
It kind of takes the pressure off.
And makes me feel part of something
bigger, wiser, more substantial than myself.
And I can trust the deep intelligence that
knits us all together, that keeps the
planet spinning........ ah, a big exhale.
And you?
You're doing just fine too, little leaf.
Let's come together for yoga.
Yoga changes your brain.
Neuroscientist Claudia Metzler-Baddeley
has noted that yoga practitioners
show marked differences in their
brains - not only an increase in
grey matter (!) but changes in
neurological networks that inform
metacognition, meta-awareness
and stress regulation.
I feel proud of my yoga brain
just reading this!
Much research shows changes
in actual structure and function,
with potential to mitigate age
related neurological decline.
It makes sense. I mean yoga
absolutely changes structure
and function of our skeletal,
muscular and nervous systems.
I'll take it all, please.
Thank you.
You too?
Come to yoga this week!
Jan Toorop (1896)
"I'm going to try to pay attention to the spring.
I'm going to look around at all the flowers,
and look up at the hectic trees.
I'm going to close my eyes and listen."
-Anne Lamott
All this rising prana coming up
through the earth, manifesting
in color and shape and form
is the best of contagions.
I'm learning (okay, trying)
to get quiet enough to notice
this all around me and invite
these energies into my own system.
Sitting next to a plant sir or madam
who is happy to share with me
if I only take the time to connect.
Plants are the most generous
things in the world it seems.
It's just a matter of me dialing
down my epic speed to that
of a wafting dandelion spore.
A valiant effort methinks.
Find your own slowing down
this week, friend.
See you on the yoga mat.
A Woman Clothed with a Sun, Odile Redon (1899)
Eternity isn't some later time.
Eternity isn't a long time.
Eternity has nothing to do
with time.
Eternity is that dimension of
here and now which thinking
and time cuts out.
This is it.
And if you don't get it here,
you won't get it anywhere.
And the experience of eternity
right here and now is the
function of life.
Heaven is not the place to have
the experience; here is the
place to have the
experience.
-Joseph Campbell
Gosh.
Talk about living
in the present moment.
Eternity as the here and now
which thinking and time cut out.
How to find this for myself?
A focused yoga practice
can take me to this place.
Where mind thinking and
concern over time fall away.
I can feel my body move
instinctively with my spirit.
Campbell prompts me to
think of this as a type of
dance inside eternity.
A lofty aim we may aspire to
this week on the yoga mat.
Maybe you're cleverer than I am.
But I found this little graphic
so helpful in understanding
what's growing in my happily
weedy, richly diverse yard.
After no-mow-month in April,
I had fleabane up to my waist.
It was kind of glorious!
If you have any of the persistent
beauties you see above, now
you can know their identity.
You could look up what they
might be wanting to offer you.
Purple violet petals to fancy up
a salad with vitamins A & C?
Calcium rich chickweed as a
poultice for skin irritation?
These ideas barely scratch
the surface of possibilities.
Maybe something growing
around you catches your eye.
Learn about it!
And make a new friend.
Hope to see you
at yoga this week!
illustration from The Gokhale Method
When learning the proportions of a
human head for drawing purposes,
we find the eyes hallway down the
head in line with the middle ear.
This is true when the skull is
nicely stacked upon the spine.
You know how I often instruct
"imagine a high ponytail being
pulled upwards" in order to align
the chin and lengthen the neck?
Or just make a fist and tug your
hair upwards from your crown.
This is a good idea not only when
you're on a yoga mat, but when
you're standing or sitting
or moving around the world.
Or at a computer! Ahem.
People who do this look awake,
aware, like they've got it going on.
Stack it up, dears.
You'll avoid compressing your
cranial vertebrae thus averting
spinal compression & degeneration.
Phew. Well done, yogi.
Come to yoga
to practice this!
excerpted from Rosemary Gladstar's new book The Generosity of Plants
I just like this poem.
It's spare
but offers me sparks
of subtle feeling.
Kind of like yoga.
Thought I might offer it to you.
I'll happily share a yoga practice too
if you wish to join me.
Groovy Bubble Mama at Nashville's Earth Day Festival
We've just marked another Earth Day.
I did so at the festival here in Nashville
where I heard Leah Larabell of High
Garden Tea offer an antidote to feelings
of loneliness and isolation. Put your feet
on the earth and look at what's growing
all around you. Then recognize that
the earth provides what you need.
There's hardly a weed or wildflower
that doesn't want to nurture you somehow.
Get in relationship, yogi.
Leah thinks we can feel safer and more
connected if we realize we are part
of this lush functioning ecosystem.
Don't douse a dandelion with Roundup.
Dig up its roots for a liver tonic tea.
Eat its leaves for potassium, iron, calcium,
and a rich assortment of trace minerals.
Use the stalk's interior milky latex
to cure warts. You get the idea.
The earth is for us.
Talk about feeling part of a community!
You are also part of a yoga tribe.
Come practice this week!