Home

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Home

here's no place like home, and home can be any place.

I’ve never ventured too far from home.

I grew up down the street from where I now live. I went to the local university, and my biggest move came after college when I left campus for what was then my ultimate destination—a downtown Mary Tyler Moore studio apartment.

To this day, even though I am hardly home, I remain a homebody.

Having a home base has always secured and centered me, even though its location has changed half a dozen times.

At this point in my life, I am surprised to find another home at yet another location, this one being my yoga mat.

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Fear

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Fear

I'm hoping the third time's a charm.

I hit my head at yoga. Then, I did it again and, shortly thereafter, once more.

These three hits happened accidentally on purpose as part of my efforts to drop into a backbend from standing.

It’s scary, but I am not ready to stop. I console myself with the thought that hitting one’s head is supposed to happen in three’s so, hopefully, I’ve also hit my quota.

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Energy

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Energy

"We were born before the wind ... " ~ Van Morrison

It’s taken me a long time to figure out what yoga’s all about, and I still don’t think I am totally there yet.

Really, at the beginning, I just dipped in for some exercise.

I had no way of knowing that it would connect me, especially since I didn’t even know I was disconnected.

Some people refer to yo

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Grief

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Grief

“And when the tears you cry are all you can believe, just give these loving arms a try, and have a little faith in me.” ~ John Hiatt

It has never taken much to make me happy.

In college, there was a boy who would bring me cookies in the dining hall and proclaim exactly that.

A kind word. A sweet gesture. A chocolate chip cookie. Nothing grand.

When I first got married, we lived well, but I knew in my heart I would have been happy with just some love in a shack.

The other night, someone was celebrating an anniversary of sorts and passed out roses. I was one of the many recipients and was so touched, you would have thought I had been handed a diamond.

Here and there, I am often the recipient of other people’s kindnesses. It is often no different than what I would do myself but, these days, anyone’s generosity towards me sort of catches me off guard.

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Rain

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Rain

Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet. – Bob Marley

It’s been raining. It’s been raining for two days.

And I’ve always loved the rain.

When I was a little girl, on rainy days at camp, we’d pile into the social hall with our sleeping bags and watch old movies. My favorites were the Gene Kelly movies, Anchors and Singin' in the Rain.

I worked for weeks on his move where he carries his black umbrella under the lampposts and clicks his heels mid-air, off to one side and then to the other.

It’s even been raining at yoga.

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Soul Searching

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Soul Searching

Yoga is supposed to be mindful and meditative. Its transformative effects are supposed to infiltrate the body, mind and spirit.

To me, that means it should touch my soul.

Sometimes, I can lose sight of this as I focus my attention on advancing my practice.

My soul must have been very sleepy the other morning because I ignored my alarm and closed my eyes instead of going to my six a.m. Vinyasa class. So unusual for me, but I felt bone tired.

My body, mind and spirit seemed to need some more time under the covers.

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Sky Watcher

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Sky Watcher

On a recent Sunday morning, I attended a yoga class in a new timeslot, and I saw the sky for the first time in Half Moon.

I have always been a sky watcher.

Really, not a day goes by when I do not look up and note the sky. I love clear blue skies, dark and dangerous skies and white cloudy skies.

I especially like the night sky and have always stopped to look up at the stars. I have watched the constellations appear on one end of the sky and later in the night make their way to the other end.

And the moon! My favorite!

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Neil Young

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Neil Young

Neil Young spoke to me the other day.

Not directly and not exactly, but I did hear him!

It was an unusual day which allowed for midday yoga, a rarity and a treat.

Earlier that day, I caught an interview on television with singer/songwriter Neil Young.

I had forgotten all about him and how much I love his voice!

I made a mental note to download some of his songs.

The interviewer asked Neil Young about his life. Were his songs autobiographical?

The singer hemmed and hawed, explaining that the songs came from inside, so inherent in each was indeed some truth. And, he admitted, not all his songs were so rosy.

The interviewer pressed further but received a cryptic answer.

It’s not all great, Neil Young said, but I’m sure glad to be here while it’s happening.

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Reflection

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Reflection

At yoga, we practice in front of mirrors.

Not every studio is like this; in fact, I think on the whole, most are not.

So, almost every day and often first thing in the morning, I am eye to eye with myself in front of floor to ceiling mirrors.

And, because my mat is placed closely by, it is a pretty close up view.

I see myself, then, like this, head to toe, in a little outfit, hair back, and many times with not much make up.

Basically, arriving at the yoga studio is like coming out of hiding. I am there on my mat with no armor, so to speak.

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Religion

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Religion

I grew up in a fairly observant household.

My father’s grandfather was from Russia, and his parents raised him in an Orthodox Jewish home. There were strict rules on the Sabbath.

No driving, no work, no writing, no telephone.

And the men and women sat separately in synagogue.

But, my father was a bit of a rebel in his younger years regarding religion and its related rules.

As a child, the day he broke his wrist, my father was supposed to be sitting safely in Hebrew school and not falling out of a cherry tree where he had chosen to sit, instead.

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Speech

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Speech

Some things we hold in our minds. Some things we hold in our words.

And, when there are no thoughts or words, our bodies speak for us. Mine speaks to me in the yoga studio.

Two weeks ago, my body yelled at me when I pulled what I discovered was my Quadratus Lumborum. A big name for a little muscle in my lower back. I had to roll up my mat and leave the practice early.

That night, I booked an appointment with my miraculous masseuse who had once before fixed up the same sore muscle. Then, I skipped my next yoga class.

Anxious to return but moving too fast, I attended a couple more classes before realizing I just needed to give it a rest.

I gave it heat, ice and Ibuprophen and then booked two more massages.

I was off my regular practice schedule for two weeks and, oddly enough, it felt as if I had lost my voice!

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Music

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Music

Certain songs carry me back.

Without a second thought, a song can make me remember a time, a place, a person, a feeling.

Music does this. It brings memories to mind in an instant, measuring out segments of times long thought forgotten.

I think music is what got me hooked on yoga in the first place.

Not every yoga class has music, but I was fortunate enough to start at a studio that was somehow plugged into my playlist.

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Breathe

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Breathe

In general, I am a pretty private person.

I keep things close to the chest and, even when I share, I proceed with caution.

I connect easily with others and have been trusted with many confidences.

But, it is only on the very rare occasion that I share mine.

The hitch for me is being okay with the natural flow of people who come in and out of my life.

If I had my way, I would keep most everyone who passed through, especially those with any of my confidences in tow.

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A Child

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A Child

Am I supposed to heed a message when I hear the same thing more than once from two unrelated sources?

I am thinking so, even if it is a message I do not want to hear.

The message today: In many respects, I am like a child.

At my age, how can this be?

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Into the Heart

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Into the Heart

I attended a yoga class yesterday evening, even though I had practiced that morning.

I arrived with my mind busy from the day, and it felt good to enter the hot room, pin back my hair and lay out my mat.

Everything about entering the room and setting up helped me to step out of the day and into the moment.

It was a quick and welcome transition.

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Yin Yang

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Yin Yang

As a little girl, my goal in life was to grow up to be a hippie.

When I was little, I had a pair of denim colored Keds.

They were too cool for words, and I made them even cooler with ink drawings all over.

Peace and love signs. Flower power. Kilroy was here. And the Yin/Yang symbol.

I never really knew what the Yin/Yang symbol meant, but I would draw it all the same.

When I was younger, I thought it had something to do with infinity and, as I grew older, I realized it had to do with opposites.

But it was not until yoga that I came to understand that Yin and Yang are really about duality, and its meaning was impressed upon me the other day in the studio.

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Open

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Open

One of the surprising things that yoga has taught me is that physical exertion has effects that go beyond my body.

It seems to offer an unexpected openness and peacefulness. It puts me in a place where I can really hear things.

Recently, I had a lesson on Backbends.

My goal is to dip into a Backbend from a standing position. With hands at heart center, I want to be able to lean back and, oh so slowly, land my hands on the mat behind me.

I am not sure why. I cannot explain this!

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Perspective

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Perspective

One day this past summer, I was to pick up my parents from the airport after their two weeks of travel.

I raced to finish a chock full day to meet their six o’clock evening flight.

The rainy rush hour had the traffic wound up tight.

I turned on the radio and flipped through the stations and talked on the phone.

I arrived at the airport with time to spare and time to buy a chocolate bar. Going to the airport is like going to the movies for me. I have to buy some candy.

Standing at the arrivals, I looked down at my phone to realize I had a voicemail. It was my mom, letting me know they had missed their connection, and that they would be arriving four hours later at another airport!

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Reset

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Reset

When I was little, our family was five around the table for dinner every night at 6 p.m.

I really cannot remember a time when we were not all there together. Dinner balanced out the day, and dinner was always balanced.

Our plates were filled equally with a protein, veggies and a starch. One night was fish, another steak, another meatballs, potatoes and peas.

We served ourselves, and we had to finish everything on our plates.

Dinner was like a reset button on the day. Whatever the day was, it was shared around the table over an abundant plate.

On a recent holiday weekend, I picked up a yoga class while out of town.

It was hot yoga, the room heated to at least 95 degrees.

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Expansion

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Expansion

Giving is a good thing.

It has positive connotations, especially in the holiday season, starting with Thanksgiving and lasting through the end of the year.

It is good to give of our time, our talents, ourselves. 

But, when giving comes easy, other challenges can arise.

For me, giving is so much in my nature that receiving can actually be difficult, and this ironic concept was brought home in yoga just the other day.

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