Solstice has always seemed a night for the soul. Perhaps it is only the onomatopoeia, or imitative, echoic principle at play? With the greater and greater need to simply ‘stand still’ as the earth spins along at it’s magnificent speed, Solstice is a soul-moment when we nurture and connect to earth and one another in a breath of stillness. We also harvest soul-food in ritual, chanting, fire, dance, shared bread, laughter. We are creating Sangha. Solstice Hour The last bright hour quivers Holding lady night at bay. ‘Tis Sol’s glorious moment The Samadhi Tribe has gathered Tributes to lay. Bowing out his rule We stand still to the tattoo While Ancient-Ones circle, In spans of fluttering desire Memories intact, They see us touch the earth as they did Embracing in the dance. In this hour we make our magic Where desire-laden Spirits mesh Through drum and call and fire Un-holy words form sacred text. Asana: Join the dance with your Yoga tribe this Friday night. Become part of the brotherhood sharing itself, embracing the earth, and our connections.
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Grasping Summer
Summer has barely arrived and already I’m grasping. My eyes cannot take in the rise and fall of life. Blooms fill, fade, and drop away before I’ve had my fix. How to hold the beauty burgeoning from the earth before it surrenders to mulch? Just yesterday colors and scents blazed glory, the owl called twice, now they are lost before full savoring and appreciation. This flagrant abundance deserves greater honor for it is a full circle of life. It is their life, wrapped in their time of existence. Because it is not mine, my existence, my consciousness, is it any less? When I stare into the luxuriant face of a peony, I feel happy…a gift given without requirement. They do not need me to see their importance, or the significance of their life. Perhaps they are more enlightened than I? Do they fill every ecstatic moment with the bliss of being? Is their short span so full that at their end they droop and surrender willingly? Will I be so willing? Can I be that full of juicy living that I gracefully bow my head, loosen my petals to the wind, and return to mulch? Or will I grasp? If I am aware of my grasping now, will I learn to let go by then? Do I have only until tomorrow? Is it my job to allow summer to rise and fall, and rise again in its delicious rhythms? Will the cycles of bloom cascading/surrendering teach me nothing? Will my grasping give way to joyous acceptance? If I am present to this hot pink bud presence, that unfurling chartreuse leaf, and every sweet and bitter scent announcing arrival and departure, will I become willing to have my flower-life end when the owl calls my name? Asana: Uttana Padasana Lie on… Read more »
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