Dinosaurs of the Past and the Present

A therapist once told me that when we express our anger in an honest, calm, appropriate manner, we will find the experience empowering.    No doubt anger is one of the most complex emotions we as humans deal with.  Of course we learn more about ourselves when we scrutinize our anger, but expressing our anger as above stated also has the potential of being a significant learning experience for the person to whom we are expressing our anger (or not).  Defining anger in itself can be a challenge, there are so many degrees of anger, from cold, passive, hostile to raging, maniacal, out of control.  No doubt, suppression of anger will inevitably lead to an explosion, and that is not the best way to deal with this powerful emotion.  I have a neighbor who is about as different from me as is imaginable.  He's military retired, Vietnam veteran, Republican, right wing, conservative, hog hunter, foul-mouthed.  I can live with that.  I have kept my mouth shut when he comes on to our property (invited) carrying his pistol.  I have said nothing when he makes racial slurs, or belittles groups of people.   Instead, what I have done in my "neighborly relationship" with him is try to look past all the ignorance, the bigoted remarks, and yet remain true to myself in that I don't agree with him on things he says, I don't pretend to be anyone other than who I am, but clearly there are many topics that are never brought up in the course of our conversations (i.e. things of interest to me!).  If I say something about yoga, he goes dead silent.  Still, he definitely has a curiosity going on with me.  He does try to bring up topics that many would find taboo.  Sometimes I think he is aiming to shock, which doesn't happen with me.  This man has some very good qualities.  He mows up and down the street, both sides, and our street is one mile long.  He has repaired our tractor mower, chainsaw, come to my aid and fixed my fence when someone crashed through it.  He helps all the neighbors (who will allow it) with mowing, chipping, cutting down trees, creating fire barriers, and much more.  I believe he would do just about anything he could to help me if I were in trouble.  He's a real character, quite the bossy type, wants to be in control.  In many ways I like him and try hard to be tolerant and accepting of his "type" which is not a whole lot different from my maternal grandfather.

I dreamt of seeing a mouse at the bottom of long, dark, tubular hole in the ground.  His eyes were glowing.   Tunnels or holes in the ground usually mean we are are hiding or repressing something, perhaps our assertiveness?  A mouse can represent our, well, mousy qualities, hidden away, quiet, repressed, withdrawn.  Bright glowing eyes may indicate seeing, awareness, even in darkness, the "I" within us has the ability to see--intelligence. 

And so today my anger came gushing out when I received yet another in a string of political, anti-Obama cartoons and other such offensive emails.  I wrote back to him and spelled out in no uncertain terms my political and religious views which are extremely liberal.  Do I feel empowered?  Not really, just a little nervous that maybe he will shoot me.  Just kidding.  I do feel unsettled inside.  Uncomfortable that I put so much of myself out there.  Perhaps I feel vulnerable.  But I do see how I was really NOT being true to myself when in the moment I didn't speak my mind.  After all, many of his statements are extraordinarily offensive.  So I'm sitting here writing about it, thinking about it, and deep down inside I know I've done the right thing.  Doing the right thing doesn't always make us feel good in the short term.  It may make us uneasy when we feel forced to reveal our truer natures to someone who is so radically different from us.  But we are all connected on some deeper level, right?  In truth, the man really likes me, I can tell.  If I were to go with the flow, we would be spending a great deal of time together, which is the last thing I want.  It has been an interesting experience.  Since I spoke out (albeit in a mousy way) in an email rather than in person, I haven't heard a word from him.  I'm not surprised.

I've been thinking of obstacles, those things that daily get in our way, but how many of these obstacles are illusions?  How many of these obstacles have we created?  What obstacles do we experience that make us feel we need to hide or repress ourselves, our feelings and emotions?  Fear of judgment, ridicule, shame, nonacceptance, and ultimately, fear of not being loved?  Yes. 

So I'm sitting in the opened door of a helicopter flying above a sloping, dry, somewhat barren landscape in which numerous fires line the ground below in the shapes of many disconnected arteries and veins.  Suddenly the helicopter bumps into a giant (yes, like Jack in the Beanstalk), but the collision is of no significance, and we continue on our way, no problem. 

When we examine our lives, there will be times when we are cynical, pessimistic, when life seems somewhat barren and dry.  But inside, if our internal fires of transformation are burning, if we continue to study ourselves, to examine things,  if the blood coursing through or veins is alive with the fire of illumination, of purification, if our life blood is on fire so to speak, then obstacles that may once have caused us to come crashing down to earth may only be momentary bumps in our journey, and soon we may again look at the landscape of our lives and see things very differently, and all this can change from moment to moment in our daily musings and interactions with others.  Similarly, in another dream, a group of dinosaurs came bursting through the top of a glass building which was under construction, causing many workers to fall to their deaths, and when these huge beasts of a bygone era came running directly towards me, face to face, I dived into my car and they moved overhead causing no damage whatsoever.  Old issues will always be with us in some form or another, but they need not have any effect on our daily lives if we face them head on.  This is the way of healing. 

I was talking to a friend this weekend, and learned of her collection of phobias.  One of the most common phobia is a fear of flying, which in today's world can be quite an obstacle if one has the desire to travel to far away lands and interact with other societies and cultures, which can be profoundly enriching, or even visit friends or family a state or more away.  When this particular fear controls our actions, from my perspective it is most definitely an obstacle.  I was really touched by this woman, and her sharing with me, and others, so openly, of her fear of flying.  I understand this fear intimately.  My history is filled with phobias, a collection of them, that at times rendered me unable to function in a variety of settings.  A fear of flying, a fear of heights, of high bridges and high buildings, of riding in elevators, of riding up an escalator, a fear of speaking in any public situation, including the classroom, a fear and deep shame of my body and letting anyone see me unclothed.  As a child, I would not go out in public unless the top collar of my shirt was buttoned and my arms covered with long sleeves.  Some of these fears are not so very controlling, while others are.  One avoids all sorts of situations.  My worst phobia, the one that most controlled my life and behavior for many years, was a fear of public restrooms.  I would go into total panic mode if I had to use a public restroom.  Sitting through a movie was outrageously difficult, and my fear of needing to use the restroom would be so strong and powerful that I often found I had no idea what was going on on-screen.  At one point in my life I decided to essentially stop drinking liquids, as much as possible, and I got sick.  That was not an answer, but more of a cry for help.  The answer lies in going directly into the heart of the fear, the core of the fear, and dealing with it head on.  This process may take many years and diving deep into these dark, hidden recesses.  This is not so easily done alone, and I don't recommend that (going alone).  The good news:  these phobias can be overcome, and with this comes inexpressible liberation.

Fear and anger can be deeply intertwined.  Unresolved, they can cause so much disturbance in our lives that we often feel so overwhelmed that we decide to end it all.  That of course is not a solution.  The solution lies in self-study, self-examination, digging, probing the depths, reaching out, seeking, reading, talking, finding those whom we can trust, finding people who can teach us and lead us, but they must be people who truly care about us and the work they are doing.  We quickly learn how we are so much not alone in our fears, or in our despair, or in our debilitating phobias.  The truth is, we can overcome.  We can prevail and be victorious in our personal battles with our demons.  Through self-love, self-acceptance, community, and sharing, we can find a great deal of emancipation. 




 

The pace of life has been revved up of late and I'm thinking at the moment how nice it would be to stay in bed late this morning, reading my book, watching the sun come up, and writing some in my much neglected blog.  It was sad to put my oldest cat to sleep, but his time had come.  It's always emotional staying with them while the doctor administers the first shot (anesthesia), then the last shot.   Ralph's primary vet did such a good job of treating his early onset of kidney disease that I wanted him to be the one to euthanize Ralph.  He's the only vet I've ever worked with who injects the second, fatal shot directly into the heart.  The first time he did this, even though he warned me beforehand, was quite a shock--he kind of stabbed Adam in the heart with the syringe in his fist, then pushed the top of the syringe with his thumb to inject the lethal dosage.  Actually, the image rather haunted me for quite some time.  I just wasn't accustomed to seeing it done that way.  With Ralph, even though he followed the same procedure, he did it more gently than with Adam, and it just didn't bother me like it did the first time.   I know that with sick animals it can be quite an ordeal finding a vein, and if they are totally anesthetized, the driving of the needle directly into the heart is painless and death is instantaneous.  Still, it strikes me as somewhat unorthodox, which is okay.  We laid him out on the bed in the guest room for the other cats to see, and to prepare his grave in the backyard.  In the meantime, we purchased a toolbox at Home Depot to serve  as a casket, which we wrap repeatedly in wire to prevent animals from ever being able to dig up the body.  We stopped at HEB and got our flu vaccinations.  Then we buried Ralph.  Dale and I openly cried.  It had rained heavily the day before and the digging was easy.  He is the fifth cat to be buried in our cat cemetery.

The next morning,  I woke up with a very sick feeling in my stomach, which got worse throughout the day.  No fever, no nausea, no diarrhea, just pain in the stomach and weakness, which lasted a couple of days.  I repeatedly went over everything I had done and eaten and came up with nothing.  Was I that stressed about Ralph? A couple of days later I attended a yoga class in Wimberley and the teacher said she had experienced the same stomach bug and so had many others.  Why I'm always thinking I've done something "wrong" when I get sick is a testament to a lack of acceptance that things often just happen for no discernible reason.  Why I felt compelled to throw out my homemade Kombucha, to wonder if I was suddenly allergic to flu shots, and on and on, is where I put too much of my energy.  After a quick recovery, I took Pepe to his vet in Round Rock to see what we needed to do regarding his allergy shots, then I got a complete eye exam, ordered new glasses, picked them up a week later, had a 90 minutes massage with a trainee (thank you Brooke!), did a power yoga class and sweated profusely, then went to Peggy's Monday afternoon yoga class.

Our new cat, Greyson, is quite the character and spent the night with me for the first time last night--I put all the other cats in the sun room and was surprised at how well behaved he was on his first night alone in my section of the house. He's a born acrobat, and I need to take some video of him jumping way up off the ground and turning around completely in mid-air. I've never seen a cat do this. I've got to teach him that he cannot continue destroying roll after roll of toilet paper. He's so beautiful, with distinctly dark stripes contrasted with grey ones, exceptionally large paws, an extra long fluffy tail, and a gentle confidence that makes him appear to be smiling when he looks you directly in the eyes. 

We downloaded our "docs" from Holland America and are all set to be gone for 26 days, except that the cat sitter who has taken care of our cats for years has moved on to another job, so I need to interview someone new and make a selection.  We've rented an apartment in Barcelona, then on to Sitges, then to another rented apartment in Dubrovnik, then board the Nieuw Amsterdam in Barcelona for a seven day cruise around the Mediterranean--visiting places in Spain, Portugal, Madeira, then an Atlantic crossing to Fort Lauderdale.  

I can feel the warmth of the sun coming through the window.  I can still feel fall in the air.  I think the burning ban has been temporarily lifted so we may burn more brush today.  There is always so much to do outdoors.  But for now, I'm just going to close my eyes and feel the sun. 

Tasting Fall

At least twice in the night I awakened from powerful dreams that left me feeling deeply sad, alone, and introspective of my life.  As a withdrawn and reticent child, I dwelt much of the time in the land of daydreams.  Houses were always a powerful symbol for me, and I felt that if I could live in one of those big houses I passed on the other side of town as I walked home from school that my life would somehow be so much better than it was.  I wanted many aspects of my life to be better, certainly very different from the way things were at that time.  I wanted to be enveloped in a nurturing environment, one of safety and security.  Even today, when I catch myself daydreaming of moving into a different house, I know that feelings are coming up for me having to do with loneliness, fear, insecurity, and being all alone in the world.  Our fantasies/musings can reveal so much to us.  And so it seems that the more we grow and learn and find our way, so too can those feelings of discomfort  become deeper and more challenging.  We try to direct our lives as best we can, we select a journey, a path, set goals, and do our best, but still, I think we often find all sorts of things happening to us that come as a total surprise.  It's as if, as I dreamt, we are driving alone in a car only to find that we have fallen asleep at the wheel and are supine across the front seat of the car, yet miraculously as we sit up and grab the steering wheel we realize that the car has continued the journey without our being fully awake or aware.  And, there is the symbolism of all those bridges.  I dreamt I was crossing a narrow wooden bridge--more like a pier--only inches above the water, and somehow I managed to stay the course until the moment I reached land, and then the car wheels veered off into water and mud.  Suddenly two people (aspects of myself) appeared to assist--a strong muscled female to pull the car and a male who assisted her.  Never underestimate the power of those healing feminine aspects of ourselves, nor the importance of her opposite.  Always know that there will be times when we are driving in the dark yet have no idea how, if, or when the journey will end, and learning that this is okay, we can let go of the steering wheel and rest and it may very well be the best thing we can do.  Those transformations that we make--physical, mental, spiritual--may require deep focus and concentration, and in the end we may get where we are going but we will require the assistance of our gut, our intuitive selves, teachings, our inner strengths to pull us through. 

Since I turned 60 earlier this year, it seems as though I've been working a little harder at paying attention to maintaining good health--yogasana, diet improvements, practicing more and more on letting go.  Lao Tsu said, "Know yourself.  Know what is good.  Know when to stop." (page 117, Light on Life, B.K.S. Iyengar).  It's all about balance, moderation, and certainly learning when to stop.  Although I try very hard to not judge others, but to be objective in my observations, I do find that I've detached myself in many ways from old friends and family members who seem bent on self-destruction.  There is a sadness in this, but my reasoning is that some people, no matter how deeply I have loved them, are just too exhausting and draining to be around and interact with.  After all, what is more complex than our relationships with others? I recently read that often it is through our silence that we can can best express our truth. I am still pondering that because it does have a powerful message. When is this true and when it is not true? When best to speak candidly, honestly, and assertively vs. when to let our thoughts and feelings stay with us and just be with them without feeling we must vocalize them? 


"As we learn to have compassion for ourselves, the circle of compassion for others -- what and whom we can work with, and how -- becomes wider." When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chodran.


My senses were filled with the beginnings of Fall in the air this morning.  Vata season.  I got a new chainsaw and have been clearing away trees and branches that are too close to the house, trying to create a fire barrier.  The Labor Day fires of Central Texas, 2011, were tragic for so many of our fellow citizens.  At that time, we packed a few bags, brought in the cat carriers, and were prepared to evacuate, knowing we would be leaving behind most everything except our lives.  One of my neighbors, a pistol carrying, Air Force retired Viet Nam veteran, with a car sticker that says "ultra right wing Republican"  has been incredibly helpful, repairing our tractor mower, fixing our old chainsaw, bringing over his farm-size equipment to help in creating fire breaks.  We live in entirely different worlds, and yet we both meet in that area of common ground and interact in ways that really are, at best, sweet and challenging. 

 

Falling Down Forever

My excellent massage therapist has been wanting to return to yoga after a shoulder injury he sustained two years ago finally healed.  Not a single yoga class in the interim.  I recommended Thrive Austin, and when Paul decided to actually go to a specific class, I reconnected with a friend who checks people in and told him to be sure and give Paul an especially warm welcome.  It was all very sweet, and to reconnect with Fred after so many months of being out of touch made me feel both happy and sad.  It was through that conversation, last night, that I learned that a mutual friend of ours had been suffering from severe depression and had succumbed to the suicidal impulse.  After being released from a psychiatric care facility he went home and shot himself dead.  I have known many people who have taken this route.  Depression is an illness that can swoop down on any of us and put us in a place of such intense pain and darkness that we can see no alternative but to push ourselves down forever.  There is a sadness and finality in doing this, but it is something I understand.  There is no blame or guilt.  We all fall down forever at least once, for certain, and that fall can manifest itself in countless forms.  So I remember all my conversations and all the classes I took with Paolo and lament his tragic and abrupt end but with an understanding that such things are indeed part of the journey.  At the same time I celebrate the birthday of my partner who turned 81 today, and I look at him with deep affection and admiration and yes, a touch of envy, at his extraordinary life and the profound influence he has had on me.  He is healthy, alive, and each day is a celebration of the dance of life, in a calm, smooth and seemingly effortless flow of one moment to another.  I will begin baking Chocolate Decadence this morning.


As it sit here in the quiet time of dawn, the sounds of hooting owls and cooing doves and chirping birds reminds me of the cycle of life.  One lone white wing dove was presented to me with bloody injuries that should have killed him, but his will to live was strong and I could feel that and saw no other alternative but to do whatever I could to help him survive.  Dove season will be coming along soon and countless birds will be brought down to death by countless shotguns.  There will be birthdays today as well as memorial services.  I will get my deep tissue massage again next week and connect with my therapist on a level for which I can find no words to describe other than simply delicious.  I will have lunch and ponder the complexities of life with my therapist an hour or so later.  I will smile and laugh as often as possible and let myself cry and feel deep sadness when that's what I need to do.  In the back of mind I will always wonder when will I fall down forever. 

Fire, Earth, Water

Thanks to Leah at Austin Yoga for all her film and book recommendations!.  I recently finished watching the third film in the trilogy directed by Deepa Mehta--Fire, Earth, Water. Absolutely beautiful, educational, touching.   I'm just now beginning to read The Inheritance of Loss and was so engrossed in it yesterday that I failed to hear my psychiatrist call my name.  When I showed him the book I was reading, he told me his wife had read it twice she liked it so much (she is also a psychiatrist).  Why do I see a psychiatrist?  Well, it all began when I was 16 years old, and I've never been without one.  An early diagnosis of manic-depressive illness, now called bipolar disorder, has been with me all these years although it has been quite a few years now since it has shown manifestation.  There are aspects of Western medicine and psychology that have so much to offer in the way of healing (be proactive!), and when combined with spirituality and the holistic science of yoga, the benefits can be profound. 

My outdoor cat Misty brought me a white wing dove.  She always has this contented, unmistakable look of gratification when she brings me her trophies, and bring them to me she does.  Of course I don't like it but she is doing what her instincts are telling her to do.  So, I am ever so often rescuing animals and releasing them back to the wild whenever possible.  I must admit that she does manage to eat many of her catches but I accept that as part of her nature and although I don't praise her, I certainly do not chastise her either.  She is trying to win my acceptance, and because of the abuse she apparently has suffered, I've worked hard to win her trust.  So this beautiful white wing dove was lying in the grass a few feet from Misty, and when I walked over to him I was surprised to find him alive.  He walked away and headed for cover, begging for a safe place to hide.  He could not fly.  So, I brought him inside, put him in a large, ventilated box lined with cotton tee shirts and put him in a warm, quiet place, and covered the box with towels to create darkness and calm for him.  Several hours later I attempted to release him but he would have nothing to do with it.  He stayed put.  We repeated this several times but apparently he wanted me to continue helping him (a juvenile male).  Surprisingly he drank some water and appeared to eat a little so within 24 hours I presented him to a Wildlife Rescue bird rehabilitator who immediately examined him, gave him an antibiotic injection and sprayed his bloody wounds with a painkiller (of course she kissed him, called him darling and other endearments, as animal lovers are wont to do).  "With a few stitches and time, he will be completely healed.  Nothing is broken and the muscles used for flight will heal."  The bacteria from the mouth of cats is deadly to birds and they must have antibiotic treatment within a prescribed amount of time or they will likely die.  One of my other cats, Ralph, has been suffering from kidney issues for years now.  A prescription diet worked well, then we added medication, then doubled it, now we are hydrating him three times a week subcutaneously.  I don't think he has much longer to live.  He has a sad, pleading look on his face that in many ways reminds me of myself.  Along with his sisters and mother, he was rescued from the Humane Society and certain euthanasia, only to watch his mother and three sisters get adopted out while he stayed in the shelter for five more years.  I've had him now for about 6 years and he is a sweetheart. 

I witnessed a near fatal collision today.  A car was driving on the far right lane of a four lane highway, probably going 55 or 60, when another car pulled out right in front of her.  She slammed on her brakes and swerved, causing her car to slide sideways along the middle of the highway.  She was so lucky there were no cars in the opposite lane, and she and the other driver are so lucky that she did indeed swerve and avoid a collision there too.  I pulled over and stayed as a witness.  All was okay, but this sweet woman gave me a very warm hug.  It was unfortunate that this incident happened, but the warm hug and tenderness she showed to me was ever so sweet and will stay with me throughout the day.
******
Constant development is the law of life, and a man who always tries to maintain his dogmas in order to appear consistent drives himself into a false position.
—Mohandas K. Gandhi  

Sketchy Writings of Summers Past and Present

Journaling is therapeutic, whether we sit and write our thoughts on a blog or keep a notebook hidden away for no one to see. It's a way of processing our thoughts and emotions and allowing them to flow through us. When writing, we can use our non-dominant hand, let the words flow out in a stream of consciousness style, we can even make squiggles while we wait for thoughts to form themselves into words (which they may not do). In a way, our nightly dreams are our personal journals of our daily journey. While we rest our bodies, our minds stay very busy, exploding with chemical reactions and the electrical firing of countless neurons. We seek to understand the complexities of everyday life on many levels. It is in our nature to know our ourselves and our world.

I was sitting at the local AT and T franchise store awaiting my turn in line when an elderly lady came rushing into the store in a state of great frustration and breathlessness. "I hate this phone," she said, with a deep Southern accent, looking directly at me. "It's given me nothing but problems. I don't want all this high tech stuff, I just want a phone to be a phone, and I want it to work." I told her I understood. "You know Obama is not Black," she said to me, out of the blue. "People who voted for him just because he was Black, with the thought that he would end racism, were misguided," she said. I immediately retorted that I disagreed with her, and asked if she was of the idea that he wasn't a USA citizen. "Of course he's a citizen," she replied, "he was born in Hawaii. But his father was from Kenya, and was a Muslim, not a Black. His father was an Arab." She apparently had this fixed idea that all Muslims were Arabs, and Arabs were not Black. I explained to her that many peoples in Africa, who were Black, were Muslims, just as many white people were also Muslims. And so began a long discussion on a variety of topics ranging from cell phones to her childhood in Mississippi, her black nanny who wasn't allowed to eat at the table with the family to her own maid that helped raise her children. "It was all wrong," she said, "the way we treated them. But, it was all we knew." Sometimes what we learn to be right is very wrong. It's helps to ask ourselves: do our actions harms others? I had recently finishing reading The Help, a great book that I recommended she read. I understand a movie based on the book will be released in a few days.

In a recent dramatization of an Agatha Christie story set in a Middle Eastern country, a Englishwoman waiting to board a boat was traumatized when she suddenly found herself watching a local woman being stoned to death by a mob composed of community and family members, mostly male.  "It is best to not interfere with local customs," Hercule told her. In other words, look away and ignore. I practice regularly with a young Iranian woman. She fussed at me for mentioning a movie I'd recently seen that was a docudrama  about the stoning to death of a woman in Iran. It doesn't happen, she informed me, and they made that movie many years after the documented event. The next day there was news of a stoning in an Iranian village.   Atrocities abound in our world. 

Much of the world's cardamom comes from Guatemala. I like to grind the pods to flavor my coffee--it enhances the taste very nicely and has health benefits to boot. Yesterday when I lifted the top of the Rubbermaid box by the gate to retrieve a much awaited package of soaps, teas, and cardamom pods, a big red wasp glared back at me menacingly from his nest as he hung upside down and sideways from the bottom of the lid I held in my hand. I could tell he was ready to attack if necessary. Gingerly, I lowered the lid and warned my partner of the nest; like so many others, he's highly allergic to wasp and bee stings and can go into anaphylactic shock.

One morning I went to Devon's 7:30 a.m. Iyengar class at Clear Spring Studio, which I thoroughly enjoyed--I love hip and groin openers and hamstring stretching which we found in variations of supta padangustasana, which was also taught that same morning by Anne (subbing for Christina) and Clayton. Funny how often that happens. I love early morning. Anyway, before leaving the studio I reached into a wall mounted mail box of printed schedules and instantly felt an intense burning pain in my middle finger. I quickly pulled away and caught sight of a big red wasp staring back at me as she stood guard of her nest that hung from the metal lid. Deja vu but this time I realized the power such seemingly small insects can yield. In an airing of Life, narrated by Oprah, the world of insects (and mammals and reptiles) informs us that there are more insects on the planet than mammals, birds, reptiles and fish combined. They have evolved and adapted unique survival attributes. Pretty amazing stuff. They can quickly put us in our place. They can easily command respect. Scorpions suddenly appear walking across our tile floors at home, often attracting the attention of the cats, who seem to know instinctively to protect their tender noses. I stepped on a scorpion the other day and cannot recall ever having felt such intense pain from an insect. My tongue was numb the rest of the day. My partner had a scorpion on his pillow the other night and it stung him on his hand. Carpenter ants march in and out of the ac copper coil outside my bedroom, and the movement in the nest in the wall can be heard as I sit at my desk. Cicadas sing so loudly at night it's almost deafening. Long lines of ants form along the rafters as they take their share of sugar water from the hummingbird feeder.

I have truly been disappointed in myself at the way I have handled my reactions to events surrounding a current project, as well as my reactions to some of the people I've had to work with. Instead of being understanding and compassionate at the errors of others, I've been angry and judgmental. I find my mind caught up in the drama, making the drama, living the drama, lost to detachment and empathy. My emotional reactions beg to be processed and dealt with before I can move forward. I know in my heart that these are doors of opportunity knocking, and I can ignore them or walk through and learn about truth. My mind says, but I've had enough knocks for a while!

I chatted briefly with Mandy last summer about injuries, and how they help open us up to so many things, and how they can help us deepen within ourselves, deepen our practice.  No wonder I keep injuring myself! Christina Sell wrote in her blog today:

"...staying close to our own goodness, radically affirming the presence of Grace no matter what is happening and living our authentic truth in a community of others who are doing the same."...

This really struck a chord with me as does so much of what she writes. It resonates loud and clear like a hammer hitting the sky, permeating the heavens and ringing like John Henry's hammer on cold steel. Is it going to be the death of me or will I rise up and be transformed, even in some minuscule way? Will I walk on in self-pity or genuine humbleness at the astonishing forces at work in our lives? Many of us have to both live and work outside the "community of others who are doing the same," and this can be quite a challenge. Along comes struggle and it feels like drowning, when in reality if we just breathe in the sweet, cool water, relax into the moment, we are offered the blessing of death to old ways and birth to new ways. It is in this that time and time again, I drown.

Gioconda writes:
"In daily life we see people who are happier than we are, people who are less happy. Some might be doing praiseworthy things and others causing problems. Whatever may be our usual attitude toward such people and their actions, if we can be pleased with others who are happier than ourselves, compassionate toward those who are unhappy, joyful with those doing praiseworthy things, and remain undisturbed by the errors of others, our mind will be very tranquil." TKV Desikachar's interpretation of Yoga Sutra 1:33

This too rings with truth. My mind has not been tranquil because I have not remained undisturbed by the errors of others. So I need to do a lot of work, and be grateful for all the time I'm afforded to be around people in the yoga community, and learn to also be grateful for the lessons to be learned from others who challenge us to seek that inner tranquility that comes when we practice a sense of empathetic detachment.

This is the hottest and driest summer on record, but I do prefer the heat to the cold. Dale and I have been taking long walks down the road in the early evenings. I pulled my gracilis muscle a couple of months ago and just finished several weeks of physical therapy. It was suggested that I needed some strength training to avoid future injuries in my yoga practice, so I joined a local gym and am working with a personal trainer. I need to balance strength with flexibility.   Jeff W. recommended a massage therapist to me, Paul F., and I've been seeing him now for a little while, and he is one of the best I've ever worked with. 

Again this summer I find myself involved in a project, this time with my partner and his family, and suddenly finding myself dealing with a person who challenges me on so many levels. It really hurts to have false accusations thrown our way, and I have had to simply give up explaining the details of how a particular contract works to someone who's emotional issues come to the forefront of all objectivity and throws a wrench into the whole business. There is a certain blindness going on, an attachment to something that keeps one totally in one's comfort zone, a choice is made to reside out of the realm of facts and reality, but to stay in that place of unreality for fear that the admission of a mistake will cause all the walls of self worth to come crumbling down--the crumbling of such walls of delusion can be very difficult, but it is a rich experience that can bring one deeper into an understanding of oneself. And so I recall how we--especially me--must learn to find a balance within ourselves when we are confronted with the errors of others, when we are confronted with false accusations and attacks on our intentions and integrity. It's important to stay open to the feelings so they can move through us and not get stuck within us by our own repression of them. I find myself extremely angry, and subsequent to that, a tenderness arises in which I see that the errors we all make are often the result of a life unexamined, emotions that remain repressed and unprocessed. Stephen Cope writes in his book Yoga and the Quest for the True Self about the suffering that comes about as we reside in our false self. We are asked to move from the unreal into the real, which can be quite a difficult task. He refers to this as the reality project, in which we move out of the false, delusional self into the real, authentic self. The twin pillars of this reality project is clear seeing and calm abiding. I highly recommend this book.

We watched as a baby raccoon was abandoned (hopefully temporarily) by his mother. He could barely walk. I made sure he had plenty of water. It is sad to see how the heat and drought will cause so many animals to not survive. There is a famine going on in Africa right now that I believe is the worst in recorded history with tens of thousands of children dying from starvation.  

Green Doors

I was browsing the Internet when I came across a blog titled Toning the Om:
http://toningtheom.com/, and as I read on there was an mp3 download to a talk given recently by Marianne Williamson.  I downloaded it and have listened to it at least 4 times now.  I find it quite inspiring and although I've heard of Marianne Williamson (click on her name for a download of her talk) I am not familiar with her work, but hope to be soon.  I went back to this blog and noticed that the author had recently returned from a trip to Egypt, and she began thanking her fellow travelers on this trip that was so special to her.  It all sounded vaguely familiar, so I contacted her and sure enough, she had traveled with Spirit Journeys, a unique and spiritually-orientated travel "agency" that puts together trips and workshops relating to yoga, shamanism, spirituality, self-discovery, and so on, and they have many workshops and travel leaders who range from psychologists to shamans to social workers and more.  I have a link to this wonderful group on my blog.  I went with them to Bali as well as their men's retreat at Bodhi Zen Center in New Mexico a few years back.  Highly recommended.

Then I discovered Stephen Cope.  Peggy Kelly (see her new blog Physical Poetry: Ayurveda and Iyengar Yoga) told me I would really like him and she was right, I am so inspired listening to him speak. I downloaded one of his talks from iTunes titled Yoga for Emotional Flow, Free Your Emotions through Yoga Breathing, Body Awareness and Energetic Release.  Absolutely fantastic.   He has a book that is highly recommended:  Yoga and the Quest for the True Self.  It is on order.  On the day that Peggy told me about this author, a friend of mine whom I hadn't seen in quite a while showed up to class, which was unusual as he lives out of town.  He had studied with Stephen Cope years ago at Kripalu.  Anyway, we got together for lunch as he wanted to share a recent event in his life that he described as traumatic.  So I listened.  I was shocked.  I don't want to go into details, but he was arrested and thrown in jail for 36 hours before being released on bail.  What happened to him should not happen in this day and age.  It has had a profoundly negative effect on his life, and I hope justice prevails for him.  We never know what life is suddenly going to throw at us, and it can all happen in a split second and our world as we know it has been dramatically changed. 

I joined Angie's list to find a local plumber to help find an elusive leak associated with the outdoor shower.  In this process, I got an email for whole house window cleaning, inside and out, at a discounted price.  I've never had this done before, so I got an estimate and they are due to arrive at 7:30 a.m. this morning.  Which brings to mind a dream I had last night.  A green door belonging to someone had been removed from its hinges.  First of all let me say that green is the color of the heart chakra, and doors represent openings (as well as closings).  The door had a small window located at eye level.  For some reason the window was covered with plastic, so it was our task to remove all this plastic, and then put the door back on its hinges--rehang it.  To me the door represents the heart, and the importance of allowing our hearts to be open, but perhaps not open in such a way that we can be easily abused or taken advantage of.  But we need to be able to see clearly through our hearts, and not have a film over it that totally blurs our view, or clouds our judgment, as we look out at the landscape of life through the window of the heart.    We need to be able to choose when to open our hearts to love and when to close our hearts to those who mean to harm us, as opposed to having our doors off their hinges completely.  I think this addresses the issues of boundaries and unmindful vulnerability.  Stephen Cope tells us that we must never deny or repress our feelings, but we must let them flow through us.  When we exile a powerful emotion that may be too painful to experience, it will eventually come back at us in one way or another.  It may manifest itself in our body, reappear as a dark shadow/demon, or seek expression through drugs or alcohol.  Until we truly feel the emotion and let it move through us, it will not leave us alone.  This resonates with me. 

I have been having intense pain in the tissue on the left side of my right knee which I feel when doing ardha chandrasana or trikonasana.  It burns and stings intensely and is quite scary.  Peggy tells me that when we have such pain, we should look both above and below the area, in other words the hip area and the ankle/foot area.  Devon confirms this.  Bekir tells me to focus the outward spiral through the femur bone, and not through the knee.  During sitting mediation I noticed (not for the first time) a tightness, a blockage, a particular spot in my right hip crease that stands out loudly in the forefront of all physical sensations.  Focusing on that spot, breathing into to, listening to it, naming it was my task at hand.  After staying with this for maybe ten minutes, I suddenly felt my leg "let go" and the tightness disappeared completely.  I don't think, of course, that this is the end of it, but rather the beginning.  But finding the beginning of something is essential in moving forward in it.