This article really is about equanimity.   As you start reading it, it doesn't seem as if that's the case at all.  But it is.  If you're impatient, this is not the article for you.  Reading this little article requires a certain amount of equanimity.   The inspiration for this article is trivial.    I have a small sewing box.  On the top shelf are rods into which the spools of thread rest.   And in the drawer underneath I keep needles, straight pins, safety pins, snaps, elastic, thimbles, and various other sewing-related necessities.   Please realize:   I am not one who sews.    Oh, I'll sew on a button now and then.   Or if my grandchildren's stuffed animals start losing stuffing, I can do emergency repairs.   But I don't sew.   My mother and grandmother both sewed, and my mother gave me the little sewing box as a gift decades ago.   Despite my disappointmen...

  If I allow myself to move with grace, does that mean that I slow myself down?   Do I sacrifice strength?  If I feel filled with ease does it mean that I am not being effective?   Or efficient? The dictionary states that grace is "simple elegance or refinement of movement."   But what if I feel clumsy?  What if I AM clumsy? I think that the secret to moving with grace has a great deal to do with our sense of ease.  Of course, dancers and athletes express grace in movement because they've practiced to build strength, capacity, flexibility, and muscle memory.   What about the rest of us? When we move with ease we can begin to tap into grace.  We can start small.  Grace resides within each of us. Sit comfortably and softly close your eyes.   Notice your breathing - the inhale, the exhale.   Notice the gentle rise and fall of the belly - the lift and release of the chest.  As thoughts arise, noti...

  Some words simply beg you to study them.  Look at the word "extraordinary."   Most words relate in some way to their roots, prefixes, suffixes - their parts.   But "extraordinary?"  We think of extraordinary as reflecting that which is remarkable, exceptional, noteworthy, singular, rare.   Yet the parts of the word invite the opposite:  extra-ordinary.   Which to me sounds as if we're looking for things which are exceptionally ordinary... extremely commonplace... notably unexceptional.    The English language strikes again.   Defying logic.  Boggling the mind.   Just to be difficult, can we study the parts of the word "extra-ordinary" and still find the extraordinary?   (I know, I know, I'm confusing even myself.)   What if we could find a way to perceive the extremely commonplace as being that which is noteworthy and remarkable? Marigold Wellington said: “I live to enjoy...

  Have you ever been asked, “Where do you get your energy?”  Or “How do you have so much energy?”   Perhaps you have wondered why it feels as if you have none.  Exhausted adults wonder why children never seem to run out. We define energy as having vitality and strength for sustained activity.   That doesn’t really tell us where it comes from, how to get it, or why some people have lots of it.    “The soul reveals itself to itself Through movement, Energy-infused undulations and gestures Of hand, foot, spine, face, and form. The invisible loves the visible.” ~Lorin Roche, Radiance Sutras, Yukti 54 The above verse eloquently suggests that there is a relationship between movement and energy. We might conclude that moving consumes energy – digging ditches for prolonged periods of time exhausts us and depletes us. Yet we also know that movement can generate energy, whether it is traditional exercise, dance, mindful practice with movement suc...

  Whether you are a home yoga practitioner or a yoga teacher, you are likely to find ways to put together the yoga asana into a flow or a sequence that begins with centering and grounding, builds in intensity or challenge (or progresses in some way) before slowing down at the end.   As a home practitioner, that was never a problem for me, because I simply put together movements that felt good to me at the moment.   Sometimes I'd forget what I did on one side by the time I got to the other side, but what did that matter?   I was moving (or being still) with my breath, and that was my practice.   That is yoga. In 2019, I completed the 200-hour yoga teacher training, and began teaching.  There began my challenge.   Now I was not only putting together a sequence of movements to share with and teach to others, I was expected to offer some kind of intelligent design.   Foundational poses should build up to more challenging ...

  I’m intrigued by paradox - seemingly contradictory propositions which also carry truth.    I started paying more attention to paradox during my 200-hour yoga teacher training in 2019.   The fellow prospective yoga teachers and I were studying, in some depth, the yoga poses (asana) and learning about the appropriate verbal cues to use while teaching.    This was interesting…    we wanted to offer cues that would support the less experienced yoga practitioner, yet touch the subtlety and the nuance of the pose. Here’s one that proved to be absolutely eye-opening for me: “Root down to rise up” (and all variations on that theme).     I never thought much about the process of “rising up.”   Quite frankly, I never much paid any attention to how my feet (or other bodily part) was/were using the ground, either.     And to think that these two apparently opposite directions of energy were related! "Flying starts from th...