DAILY What stories will we tell ourselves on dying? Will we look back in wonder & awe at our asinine adventuring? Or, will we be dazzled by the lists of good intention constructed each morning? Will we be enthralled by a vigorous growth of spirit, or shamed by lingering cowardice? All things, I suspect, though the assumption of seeing the bigger picture at death is specious at best. It’s difficult to imagine even constructing a story when going at this speed, impossible to create the plot line. Perhaps it’s time to p r a c t I c e? What story do we have to tell ourselves at the end of the day? Mine runs something like this… “Egad, didn’t get the report done, the books put away, can’t check daily-pages off, or meditation. When am I getting car to the mechanic? And I still can’t get into that size six. Fewer fats tomorrow.” Now there is a story I can’t wait to read! What a bloody cock-up of a beautiful life. Perhaps it is time to Practice. Instead of collapsing into wine, whining, and TV at the end of the day, what if we told ourselves a story of that day, and all day long we saw ourselves as the hero/heroine of this fairy tale. Would we change the day? Fewer lists, more costumes? Less dishes, more black stallions, and swords? What if we grew enough awareness to realize this could be the last day, the ultimate story we have a chance to create and tell? What if this is my day for a ‘Once upon a time histoire, and I bollux it by checking it off as an item on my list? A moment never to return, be cherished, or re-told. Asana/Pose: Is there a pose that gives you… Read more »
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Earth Day/Spiritus Jubileo
Gaia is in her glory—as are we who tend her. Eternal female, she appears on her day/Earth Day dressed in a rainbow of silks, flowing chiffons, with a halo of daffodils twined on long curling tresses, and pedicured toes sporting silvery moon-rings. Her Venusian beauty vibrates, giving off rich scents of possibility. After her winter-crone desiccation, she, and we, breathe ‘la vida loca.’ Laying herself out in chartreuse Goddess-green, her bosom pulsing spring, closed portals, open. It is as though she takes a wand and color-wishes the air, pushing branches into laden arms of grace. Her breath/my breath, our cells interchange thought and feeling, cell information. We grow from, into, with, and around one another. When I lie in her arms, my core connected to hers through our umbilical cord, my life flows. When I listen to her Spirit whispering in mine, I do all things wisely. From there, the knowing; earth/air/sea/thee/me, a single cell sailing through time and space. Great Mother, as you hold and nurture us…how do we repay your generosity? How do we honor your gifts? More cement and asphalt into your pores? Ripping last forests out for paper plates? Tossing plastic into your sensuous waters? Heavier pesticides over front lawns and golf courses? Ahhhh yes, we are unbelievable stewards…… terrorists as it were. How can you support our churlish-childish behavior? How …..do you continue to love us? Oh Great Mother, send us your consciousness, give us your Grace. Asana: Any pose, especially a simple pose, where you stand, kneel, lie, with, on, beside Gaia. Take a moment to worship the Green Goddess. Let your Practice be one of conscious connection to feeling her Grace, and thanking her. Tadasana/stand still, Savasana/Corpse Pose, Sirsasana/Headstand, Uttanasana/Standing forward fold, Ustrasana/ Camel…are a few ideas.
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