We keep on diving into the heart of the matter.
As we move through this season, what has Autumn offered you?
Here in this place, we still have much green and the dandelions continue to thrive. And yet, the leaves fall and there is a presence of decay, of clearing, of interiority. All is moving into the roots.
In this season, I am reminded of a few gifts from my past.
A few years ago, I was very sick. My body was in full revolt. It craved a revolution. It didn’t recognize itself. It was out of my control. I felt betrayed. I just wanted to be well. I didn’t know how. And yeah, healing is not the same as cure.
I heard this…
Go deep into the roots.
Make your way into the spaces you can explore, into what you might be able to transform.
What wants to die?
What is ready to simply be let go of?
What within is asking to have a sweet death so that you can breathe again?
Please make no mistake: I am not talking about suicide or physical death here.
This inquiry does take me to some scary, shadowy, and crowded places within. And I find old truths. Other people’s beliefs. Space. Practice. Tight gripping. Expectations. A broken heart. Basic goodness. Achy wounds. Rusty fences of distrust. Apathy. Love.
A resilient, resourceful, tender, self.
Cover allll that with a blanket of kindness. Immense kindness. Loving kindness.
Move through this:
What is workable here? What can be given gratitude and a grave? What is becoming compost?
My yoga practice is one of my places to listen deep, to notice what is arising, and to explore how to move through. So, in this season, I use these gifts:
What wants to die?
I notice a ‘going-through-the-motions’ kind of attitude.
And how does this affect my practice?
I am stiff, distracted, spacey, distrustful, tired, unbalanced.
What is workable here?
I become still. I listen. I take a wide view. I slow my practice down. I set the intention of deep devotion.
I recognize my broken heart with kindness.
I do a wall-based Yin practice with a focus on breath to regulate my nervous system. In my active practice, I alternate between steady, strong, basic postures to remind myself of my strength and flowing dancey moves to invoke my curiosity and fluidity. I take longer savasanas and naps. I write about it.
I pay attention. I take it easy.
These messages are asking me to to attend to myself, as this manner is mirrored off of the mat and into parts of my life. I take action.
I know that the roots are deep, things are clearing, and patience is my friend.
Take good care friends,
This reading is from Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening, October 26 passage.
“It takes six million grains of pollen to seed one peony, and salmon need a lifetime of swimming to find their way home, so we mustn’t be alarmed or discouraged when it takes us years to find love or years to understand our calling in life. Everything in nature is given some form of resilience by which it can rehearse finding its way, so that, when it does, it is practiced and ready to seize the moment. This includes us. … Each person we love and each dream we try to give life to brings us closer to the mystery of being alive. So, we must try as many times as necessary until our many loves become the one love, until our many dreams become the one dream, until heart and path feel the same.” Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening, October 16.
craftwork by heart as home yoga and art
This is the time to dive deep into the heart of the matter.
As we move through this seasonal change, what does this Autumn offer?
Nature begins to prepare for winter by sweeping away what is unnecessary – the leaves turn and fall, the gardens move to winter mode, the rains wash away the dust of summer – and what of us?
What does this season ask of me?
What messages does it hold?
What practices do I need to integrate into my daily rhythm of life to support and nourish me throughout this season?
I hear a few things so far…
An invitation to be vulnerable, flawed, authentic, and be okay with it. Really okay with it. Really.
An invitation to let it (whatever it is for me right now) drop into the earth to become compost for the next growing season
(I think I know what it is and I will write about it soon).
Listen deeply and hear the space within: don’t move to quickly fill the space and silence.
From those in my life, these are the gems that resonate…
We are stressed out, tired, achy, surviving the daily grind, holding ourselves together, overwhelmed, grieving without a sacred space to truly grieve…
We are bursting with creative, soulful energy, making deep and sustainable commitments to self, others, and the earth, simplifying to be transformed, offering warmth, space, and comfort to where it is needed.
I need to rest. I need to step just one step further into this fire. I need to trust.
We are building what we need.
We are holding it all, at the same time.
Take good care,
Yoga has taught me to nourish the longest relationship that I will ever have – my relationship with myself.
I began to explore yoga asanas (postures) in 2008 when I moved to Saskatchewan. Although I had always been interested in it and felt that ‘doing yoga’ would be good for me, I had never committed to a practice or taken many classes. I didn’t feel comfortable or connected to my body AND I really felt that yoga was for people who could already do the poses, who were flexible and fit, and who liked wearing stretchy pants – not me!
But, with no furniture in my new hardwood floor apartment, a bitter winter, and a yoga video, I decided to give it a go.
No one needed to know. And it felt good. It felt right.
I began the process of moving my body, getting to know it, and eventually befriending my body (a continual deepening relationship). As I gained a bit of confidence with some basic poses, I decided to check out some yoga studios. I found my favourite teachers and kept at it. In certain poses, I still hear their voices reminding me, encouraging me, challenging me.
For me, yoga (the physical practice and the philosophy of living) is a way to come back to my body in a gentle, slow way. And as this trust-respect-befriend process continues, I am more and more able to enjoy movement, to play, to learn about my strengths, to challenge myself a little. And yes, my yoga practice ease my joint pain, strengthens my body, and helps me breathe!
My practice brings to light hidden parts of myself – both positive and shadow. My practice is an opportunity to work things out – emotions, kinks in my body, experiences, sensations. It helps me come to deeper understanding of myself, my patterns, let go/integrate traumas, and simply be.
When I became sick with a life-threatening illness, it was my yoga practice that was one of the cornerstones of my recovery process and guides me as I now navigate the ways of being in the world as a person with a disability.
So, I am committed to this practice that helps me learn how to take care of myself.
Because I know what it is like to live in spaces disconnected from the present, disconnected from body-mind, ashamed and afraid, sometimes frozen, sometimes frenetic.
And I also know that these things are workable.
I know that it is possible to live in spaces full of light, connection, integration, and joy – a lot of the time. Yoga is a path of loving-kindness, self-compassion, awareness. I wax poetic, it’s true.
This is the heart of the matter: yoga wakes us up – in body, mind, soul, and spirit.
I took my yoga teacher training to deepen my own practice. I took it when I was so sick that I could hardly breathe; I couldn’t do all of the poses; I needed to rest a lot (I still do). I desperately wanted to learn some tools to help myself and others with our chronic conditions, trauma, and emotional suffering. I just wanted to be well.
With this decision, I began to intentionally cultivate and uncover one of my soul’s deepest desires – to co-create a sacred space for healing, rest, and relaxation where we can wake up together, again and again, bathing in the light of our true nature. I try to never lose sight of how awkward and unattainable this practice seemed at first (and still does sometimes).
Yoga is for every body. Let’s meet each other where we are at ….no flexibility, level of fitness, previous knowledge/experience or even stretchy pants needed (they are comfy though!).
And with gratitude, I continually commit to this practice that teaches me to shines my light into every area of my life.
thanks for stopping by,