Meditation by Any other Name.....

My husband and I have been taking a Buddhist meditation class at a local Buddhist center. That's on Wednesday nights. On Tuesday nights I take a yoga meditation class at a yoga studio. This just sort of happened. But, I am finding it all very interesting. When I go to my yoga meditation class on Tuesday night we have a yoga class (a discussion and then lots of poses) concluding with a 10, maybe 15 minute meditation. We learn a strategy or two for quieting our minds. For example, last week we learned that you can meditate to a constant sound. Now, that interested me. Turns out I have recently been meditating to the sound of a river...an amazing and peaceful little river full of giant boulders that I had the pleasure of sitting and meditating on one drizzly summer day this this past July. Meditating to a sound. Who knew?

During our last Buddhist yoga meditation Wednesday, the teacher (a Buddhist-in-training, subbing for our Buddhist teacher) talks about a lot of the same things my yoga mentor talked about on Tuesday (being unattached to things in life which make our life difficult). Of course the concepts are referred to with Buddhist names, but it's surprising how similar the two philosophies are. And then, and here's a big difference, we spent 30 minutes, and at the beginning of our meeting not the end, meditating. Meditating is the thing in Buddhist philosophy. In the West, yoga poses seem to be the thing for us Westerners practicing yoga. Interestingly, most people don't know this or forget an important point about yoga. Yoga poses are a means to an end, that end being meditation and, ultimately, surrender to some God (you get to choose the God or spiritual being). There is no getting around it, yoga seems religious as you surrender to some spiritualness. In Buddhist thinking, on the other hand, there is no creator God. Actually, it's more interesting than that. The Buddha (who was a yogi early in his life) did not really comment on whether or not there was a God. Apparently, he felt that whether or not there was didn't matter to everyday people trying to figure out their lives...hmmm.

On a recent Wednesday evening, as the rain danced on the roof of a cozy little room at the top of the stairs, we sat quietly, my husband and I and about 20 other people, very still, eyes closed, sending positive thoughts out to those we love and those who drive us crazy (mettā bhāvanā meditation). Supposedly, we are meditating to reach Nirvana and the end to our suffering....

I don't know what I believe at this point. I am not a yogi. I am not a Buddhist. I am just trying to see what this all means for me. But I do know that meditating and doing yoga poses certainly seems to lead to more peace and relaxation in my life. It also reminds me to live, fully, the moments of my life, to look into the eyes of that little first grader when he struggles with his math...to really be there for him, right in the moment of what means so much to him. And for that, I am grateful :) Oh, and, sending positive thoughts (metta in Buddhist terms) to the person who drives me crazy.....seems to ease my level of annoyance. Since that Wednesday night meditation I have seen said person-who-drives-me-crazy and I just thought...."I wish her well, I wish her well" :P

What Do YOU Love About Your Body?

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Check out my newest entry. I have a column called Little Buddhas on the Yogalife, New Hampshire website. Take a look!

Finding My Rhythm in the Gym

So, in a big effort to take care of my aging body I have been working out a lot in the last two years. When my gym started offering classes, I was the first to sign up for Zumba. Not 10 minutes into the first class I slipped and fell. Hmmmm. Maybe Zumba wasn't for me. The next class I thought I'd try was a fast-paced weight lifting class. OK, I was thinking to myself, I know how important lifting weights is, so I'll give this a try. The class I decided to take was packed with peppy people. Galloping up and down on those turquoise and black steps while lifting weights to the beat of the music while sharing a step....yep, I turned my left ankle and had to limp out of that class in pain. OK. I'll just use my elliptical machine at home. What's that pain in my right lower back....guess this machine somehow irritates my body. Let's try running. What's that pain in my left knee? Oh, forgot. Years ago I was diagnosed with patella-tibia syndrome...my kneecap is not "riding" well. What to do? Seems like every time I work out I end up in pain. Last summer I took 6 weeks to regularly spin and attend a slow-paced weights class. By the time September rolled around I couldn't bend my right knee without crying in pain. I couldn't get up from a squatting position to save my crazy-ass life. The sports medicine doctor tells me squatting with weights can cause behind-the-knee pain. Here, take 4 Aleve a day (equivalent to 12 Ibuprophins) for a week and stay off it. What am I supposed to do, I think to myself, give up and let age move in on my round body? Alas, after a lot of thought, several doctor visits, and some rest I think I've figured it out. First, I stretch every morning (yoga). Second, I don't spin every day and when I do I take it easy even though the spin instructor spins maniacally or dances around the room like a American Indian at a religious ceremony. And, I stretch lots after spin. Third, I'm done with weight lifting classes for now and will use what I've learned from class (lift until you are completely spent) to lift weights on my own. No pain and I'm feeling good...maybe I've finally found my gymnastic rhythm.

Heirloom Tomatoes...YUM!

My husband came home the other day with a white Addidas bag full of these odd looking tomatoes (and two cute little yellow squash that looks like hats). A woman at one of his surveying sites filled up the bag and sent him home with all these heirloom tomatoes. I have always wanted to try these colorful tomatoes but they are way too expensive in the grocery store.

Slices of mozzarella, homegrown basil and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil....amazing appetizer before a meal of grilled marinated meat, grilled asparagus and grilled/steamed green onions (dipped in a smokey, lime sauce!).

Who knew a tomato could be so interesting in flavor and texture. Love all the colors, love the taste!

And a New School Year Begins

I have been working through An Artist's Way the last 2 months so not writing as much on my blog(s). Writing for that 1/2 hour a day seems to satisfy my need to empty out the contents of my mind somewhere :) This morning, and for the last couple of days, I have been thinking a lot about the beginning of the school year. I forget the little tragedies that I am confronted with on a daily basis in my work. I forget them while I paddle a canoe up and down a peaceful lake, sit and read a book by the river on my private deck, paint the bottoms of wine glasses on a quiet and rainy afternoon. I forget that I am so lucky to have such a great life. I forget that there are so many children who not only have their own woes to manage, autism, heart failure, mental retardation but then, tragically, have parents ill-equipped to take care of them. This week, my first week back at school, I heard stories about parents living in vans, parents arrested for public intoxication, parents barely able to tend to their own lives, filing for custody of disabled children. It makes me unbearably sad. If I can do any little thing for such children, in the short time I know them, to make their lives better, happier, less difficult, then, I will be grateful. And although I am at a good place in my life (thank you God for that!) and need to remember how lucky I am, honestly, deep within I just don't understand why life has to be so difficult for such innocent little souls....I just don't get it.

?

Me at age 2 (the age of my granddaughter!)

I had a conversation with a wonderful friend the other day. We talked about our families because my self-reflective friend was seeing his parent's behaviors in his daily life and a little weirded out by it all. He has a weight problem and his eating habits are just like his mother's. He heard his father's "voice" coming out of his mouth recently when he was upset. Of course, I could completely relate. I told him that sometimes I wonder who I would be if I had been raised by different parents or in a different era or in a different country. Obviously I'd still be short with a head of curls, but who would I be? Is there a "me" independent of my rearing, I have wondered? The older I get the more I believe in that unique "me" or soul or whatever. And, I see for me, my personal goal, for the rest of my life, is to figure who I really am, as independent as I can be from the influence of my mom, my dad, my time in history. It always strikes me as so peculiar that I am myself but may not know who I really am. Of course, my behaviorist friend, Dr. Mike would tell me that who I am is all a function of my rearing......we are a product of our environment, he would say with confidence. But I think otherwise :)

Loving the Artist's Way...a book that has started me once again on this who-am--I adventure, through the lens of who ever I might be as a creative person.

Addie Looking Grown Up!

What a beautiful little charmer in her new pink sparkle shoes and Tigger backpack we got her for her birthday. She's only 2 but looks 4. She walked all around the condo with her new shoes on and her backpack packed and ready for action :) What a cutie pie!

Fun with Grammie and Grandpa

Headed out! I'm a little unsure or maybe tired but I know
the day will be fun!

Look at Hank, the finger puppet guy Grammie bought me at the
Saturday Market!

At the park!

Eating Hebert's scallops! Yum!

The backpack Grammie made me for my birthday!
I love it cause I love pink and I love Tiger!

Isn't it lovely?

Painting a little birdhouse...I am artistic, don't you think?

Hank the Finger Puppet

So, how cute is this little handmade finger puppet. There were adorable "girl" puppets with long curly blonde hair, cute little "girl" puppets with lush, long hair and Hank, the lone male. It was her choice! Hank the finger puppet guy....she loved him!

Batman to the Rescue

Who knew there were so many different types of bats. In New Hampshire, where our rental unit sits, there are 7 different varieties. Turns out they are are shy little creatures. As our Batman told me, they think of humans as grizzly bears...something to avoid. They are helpful to the environment, eating a lot of insects on their nightly forays into the wild or suburbia, depending where they roost. Why do I know so much about bats? Well, picture this, husband on a much-needed 4 day vacation, ocean kayaking way up in Maine. I get a phone call Saturday. "Ah...sorry to bother you, but this is one of your tenants." "Yes," I respond, wondering why I'm getting this call. "Ah....we have 4 bats in our house." OK...this was my husband's project before he left for his trip and I was hoping he had solved the problem but, alas, not. So, who to call when husband is unreachable on an island in the Atlantic Ocean? Whatever Batman will answer the phone on a Saturday afternoon! Turns out, David, our Batman to the Rescue, was a wonderful man, providing advice via the phone as to how to get the bats that are now hiding in the rental (somewhere in the kitchen the tenant thinks!), out. You open a window 1/2 way, make sure the screen is up. Set up a fan 5 feet away, blowing directly to the window. Wait overnight. In the morning bats will be hanging from the window, awaiting escape. Apparently, wind currents are how bats find their way in and out of a space. And, did you know a hole the diameter of a pencil is big enough for bats to squeeze through? Tonight David, the Batman, will assure tenants that all holes are filled so they'll be no more bat flybys in the wee hours of the morning, scaring the giant cat that jumps on the bed and awakens the tenants who scramble. So glad husband will be home shortly....he can take it from here! And, from here is how to manage removing the bats roosting in the attic (one-way doors I am told)..... Life, always interesting :)

Sea Smoke at Sunset

This evening I took Olivia out for a walk but we didn't make it very far.

We stepped out the back door and moved no further....
watching the sea smoke moving slowly on down the river.

Pretty cool!

The Peace of Wild Things...Wendell Berry

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.