1. Choose people who exude empathy, compassion AND kindness. Two out of three is not enough.
2. Live by the Golden Rule. Every day. Even when it sucks. To be good.
3. Question authority. Maybe not straight to a cop's face. Handcuffs are uncomfortable, take my word for it.
4. Jump in a fountain. At least one. Especially in the summer. In Italy.
5. Spend time with a child.
6. Right speech, Right action.
7. Laugh until you cry. Cry until you remember something to laugh about.
8. Meditate 5 minutes a day. In your car, closet, at your desk, in the forest, by the ocean. Just DO IT.
9. Do something for someone else without expectation. I teach yoga and meditation, it's my seva (service).
10. Material possessions tie us down and create suffering. Promise yourself that when they do, you will get rid of them. This applies to people too!
To clarify #3: I'm not advocating revolution or anarchy, just mindfulness over mindlessness. So you can put your muskets down, no need to run for the hills...yet.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
Who Is Driving Your Soul Car?
As we careen around the whip lashing turns through the inky black mountain pass, my eyes dart to the ever changing moving pictures afforded by the Xenon lights guiding our moonless drive. My driver is a professional, smoothly changing gears and anticipating each switchback like someone who's driven these seemingly Godless roads before. Which of course, he has. I press my body further into the buttery soft Italian caramel leather seat and loosen my grip on the door handle. The speediest and sexiest way to my destination is in an obscenely expensive Italian sports car. My adrenaline races through my veins and the perspiration trickles down my neck. The purring from the engine growls louder as our speed approaches 150 mph and I catch a swooshing glimpse at the road sign - Happiness 10 miles. I exhale a sigh of relief, almost there I assure myself. Gazing over at the stone silent driver, he stares back with his soulless eyes and jerks the steering wheel, causing the car to crash through the guard rail and catapult us off the path towards certain death.
My driver was one of seven available. Their names are sloth, lust, anger, pride, greed, envy and gluttony. Choose any of them and you will get your thrill, but they always cause suffering in the end. There is no quick, easy road to Happiness and you should never turn your soul keys over to anyone, except maybe the Divine. The route is full of detours, potholes, road construction and inclement weather, but at least you are in the driver's seat of that Fiat!
My driver was one of seven available. Their names are sloth, lust, anger, pride, greed, envy and gluttony. Choose any of them and you will get your thrill, but they always cause suffering in the end. There is no quick, easy road to Happiness and you should never turn your soul keys over to anyone, except maybe the Divine. The route is full of detours, potholes, road construction and inclement weather, but at least you are in the driver's seat of that Fiat!
Thursday, August 23, 2012
What Moors You To This Life?
Yoga philosophy espouses high virtue on becoming detached from that which may cause suffering, not an easy accomplishment in our Western culture. Yet I've attempted to be a good student, reminding myself oh so ever gently, that material possessions are chains that drag us down into the pit of despair (without the 6-fingered man). Vairagya (renunciation) is also one of the ethical precepts yogis are meant to follow. We are supposed to be grateful for each day that we are given on this blue planet yet not be terrified of death. To accept when our time is up and become one with God.
It is this last part I may have taken too far. Who knew that not caring if you live or die might actually be dangerous?? When our 15 year old 4-legged child died last January, Brian and I were beyond devastated. We adjusted eventually...to the deafening silence at home (doggies do like to be heard), the missing soul, and most notably, not needing to care for that living creature any longer. As I plainly told Brian "we are no longer a family, just a couple." NOT being a family was sinkingly depressing for me. I am nurturing and loving by nature, unless you piss me off, and not having Shea to care for, worry and fret about turned out to be more detrimental to my emotional and physical health than I ever envisioned.
The sands of time slowly sifted down, and the changes within me became more visible. I was no longer concerned about being alive, didn't care if my life ended that day or not, felt completely untethered to this world in a way I never experienced prior. Mildly amused by this new sense of freedom from breathing, I thought I was progressing towards a state of enlightenment. How cool I mused, I think I understand this whole non-attachment and clinging to life deal! I felt like a Squarebob Spongepants helium balloon that slipped away from a tiny little hand at the state fair, floating aimlessly higher and higher into infinity. Giggling like a little schoolgirl, either from lack of oxygen or that new found sense of weightlessness, I failed to notice my precarious ascent. That is, until the close call with a Boeing 747.
My featherlight brushstroke with death perked my senses, yet did not sound a warning bell. Not until others expressed serious concern about my laissez faire attitude towards living. Delving deeper into the inky blackness of my ignorance, I blindly grasped onto the anchor of faith. I forced myself to root down and ground my feet firmly into the here and now. As a practicing yogi and teacher, I focused on foundation and centering from within, until I believed it.
"Take the hit as a gift" a teacher once said. I did. My soaring experience taught me that my reason for being is supposed to be selfless, providing seva (service) to others whether through my teaching or caring for those I love (including our new puppy, even when she is willful and contrary). Namaste.
It is this last part I may have taken too far. Who knew that not caring if you live or die might actually be dangerous?? When our 15 year old 4-legged child died last January, Brian and I were beyond devastated. We adjusted eventually...to the deafening silence at home (doggies do like to be heard), the missing soul, and most notably, not needing to care for that living creature any longer. As I plainly told Brian "we are no longer a family, just a couple." NOT being a family was sinkingly depressing for me. I am nurturing and loving by nature, unless you piss me off, and not having Shea to care for, worry and fret about turned out to be more detrimental to my emotional and physical health than I ever envisioned.
The sands of time slowly sifted down, and the changes within me became more visible. I was no longer concerned about being alive, didn't care if my life ended that day or not, felt completely untethered to this world in a way I never experienced prior. Mildly amused by this new sense of freedom from breathing, I thought I was progressing towards a state of enlightenment. How cool I mused, I think I understand this whole non-attachment and clinging to life deal! I felt like a Squarebob Spongepants helium balloon that slipped away from a tiny little hand at the state fair, floating aimlessly higher and higher into infinity. Giggling like a little schoolgirl, either from lack of oxygen or that new found sense of weightlessness, I failed to notice my precarious ascent. That is, until the close call with a Boeing 747.
My featherlight brushstroke with death perked my senses, yet did not sound a warning bell. Not until others expressed serious concern about my laissez faire attitude towards living. Delving deeper into the inky blackness of my ignorance, I blindly grasped onto the anchor of faith. I forced myself to root down and ground my feet firmly into the here and now. As a practicing yogi and teacher, I focused on foundation and centering from within, until I believed it.
"Take the hit as a gift" a teacher once said. I did. My soaring experience taught me that my reason for being is supposed to be selfless, providing seva (service) to others whether through my teaching or caring for those I love (including our new puppy, even when she is willful and contrary). Namaste.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Life Is a Sweet Tart
Most medicine is bitter, but it heals. Whatever, it either tastes like past due motor oil, or gets stuck halfway down my throat, and as I'm gasping for air I wonder if I'll just choke to death on this gargantuan pill instead. Either way, problem solved. Which leads into my favorite word of the month - BITTERSWEET. Life is kinda like a box of chocolates, sometimes there's a sweet caramel filling coated in sinful chocolate, and sometimes, well, sometimes it's just a wad of smokeless tobacco dipped in chocolate. Disgusting when you bite into it, projectile-inducing and not even the silkiest, decadent Swiss confectioner's chocolate coating can save your taste buds from scraping a Brillo pad down your tongue. And yet, it is the bitter tasting portions of my life that allow me to savor the sweet truffle that follows even more.
The acidic grief that rained on me last year seared a deeper well of inner strength. Dark energies don't rattle my cage anymore. My force field locks down and not even Darth Vader can unnerve me. My soul is still sugar-brimmed with the nectar of compassion and kindness, they just don't get to shove a crazy straw down and suck me dry. The biting experiences we go through are there to teach us something. Otherwise, all they do is leave a bad aftertaste.
When the bitter, sour, acrid, pungent moments in life come your way know that it too shall pass and when the dessert tray of good times rolls up, indulge and enjoy.
And as far as the box of chocolates and never knowing what you're gonna get, grab a sharp paring knife and follow my lead - unmercifully dissect that bonbon down the middle and check out it's guts. No white nougat center surprise for me!!
The acidic grief that rained on me last year seared a deeper well of inner strength. Dark energies don't rattle my cage anymore. My force field locks down and not even Darth Vader can unnerve me. My soul is still sugar-brimmed with the nectar of compassion and kindness, they just don't get to shove a crazy straw down and suck me dry. The biting experiences we go through are there to teach us something. Otherwise, all they do is leave a bad aftertaste.
When the bitter, sour, acrid, pungent moments in life come your way know that it too shall pass and when the dessert tray of good times rolls up, indulge and enjoy.
And as far as the box of chocolates and never knowing what you're gonna get, grab a sharp paring knife and follow my lead - unmercifully dissect that bonbon down the middle and check out it's guts. No white nougat center surprise for me!!
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