Friday, February 21, 2020

Silence is Sacred

When you are walking down a city street and fall on your left buttock after slipping down a blue ramp and get up as quickly as possible while looking for your ride.

When you realize you missed a meeting due to your own error after making a second trip through winding roads to La Paz.

When you are happy for the success of a first meeting rescheduled from earlier in the week after showing up with the right paperwork at the inicial meeting and the system finds there are two of you in their system. You must eliminate one in order to move on. Original citizenship documents are required to prove, you are you.

When you walk down the Malecon and marvel at the tents, stands, and festivities being prepared for Mardi Gras.

When you are happy to be there even if the water is blocked because you slept well the night before. 

Silence is sacred in the midst of all the sounds that are inherent with life happening.

In conversation with a dear friend once, he asked: Is there such thing as silence?


In the mountains, alone, hiking, I remember silence being the draw. Time to notice the only sounds I heard were my own foot steps. What other sounds did I hear? If all I can hear are my own foot steps, is that silence? Silence between the steps. Silence between the sounds.

In 2012, I started hiking in earnest under the relentless August sun. I had reached a point of no place to turn and nothing to do but walk and be with as much silence as I could organize my life around.

In silence, I learned to listen. 

I was hiking four to six days a week for hours at a time. As my legs got stronger, my clothes felt looser and my mind felt clearer. My heart soared.

In silence, I learned to befriend my own company - this time as a choice - not as a matter of life and death. I enjoy hanging out with myself. 

In a silent retreat one year later, I was told: This is not a vacation.

One week with all our activities and sittings carried out in silence interspersed with Dharma talks. I remember listening with discernment to two published authors and clearly thinking, I am the only author of my inner life. No one outside can tell me what is inside this mind, heart and soul.

I was asked before we settled into silence: Have you done this before? I replied that I had, I was still and silent for hours while on bed rest with Paloma during the last two months of my pregnancy. I had experienced stillness and silence and knew I could be still. 

During the retreat, I experienced deep joy and didn't know what to do with the energy except dive off my stand up paddle board into cold February water during our lunch breaks. Leaps of joy. And diving in. On my drive home and for days afterword, tears streamed down my face and I wondered if this was a normal part of reentry. I was happy to be home. And yet I felt a longing for streaming quiet.

This week, between drives to La Paz, my daughter's every changing busy schedule and my own full schedule, I felt the onset of temporary exhaustion settling in. A headache came and went. And wondered, how much time do I spend in silence during this phase in my life? Knowing that time in solitude and silence is where I replenish my energy sources, I create time every day to recharge. 

I sit in silence next to Javier every morning with our coffee. Until one of us shares. And silence is broken. I sit quietly in meditation. For my personal yoga practice, I silence my phone. Music for practice is rare. I savor silence. When Javier and I hike together, often we walk in silence. Until one of us shares. And the silence is broken. Until we are quiet again together. There is silence throughout the day. And starry night.

The last time I hiked alone was on our ranch. A quiet place with a roof, cobb walls, smooth counters, bright splashes of tile because I was tired of seeing all those painted squares in boxes and what better way to store them than adorned with patchwork walls. Trails and mountains and sky surround plus views of the sea and horizon beyond.

I listen for silence between the sounds of cars and trucks on the road down below. Leaves rustling in trees on a light windy afternoon. Dogs barking next door. The feeling of Ollie sitting on my legs and the sight of her looking over the screen at me, as if to say: What is that thing on your lap and wouldn't you rather hold me? The sounds of my finger tips on the Spanish keyboard. No spell check and the hope my spelling is correct. An ATV puttering by. Plants that need watering make their own sound as all living organisms do. 

And the memory of hiking through trees, over rocks, up, down and around so many trails in the desert. With the knowing of that silence living deep within me. Whenever I need that silence, all I have to do is pause and listen. It is always there. On city streets, in yoga studios, offices, planes, on my back porch, with me wherever I go. In the words of Rumi, "The quieter you become, the more you are able to hear."


In breathing, we connect. 
Words begin to fall away. 
First the spoken words as we close our eyes and focus within. 
Then, slowly and eventually, the internal words 
begin to find space between one another. 
And that is where we meet. 
In the space between the words, 
the shared rhythm of the breath, 
beating of the heart. 
A body and mind at rest. 
A soul at peace. 
(2016)




Thursday, February 13, 2020

A Balancing Act

Every week, I choose a theme to think about in my own life, a practice to support this theme for myself and others and let these questions percolate, integrate, assimilate and deepen in my own being.

Oaxaca 2009

The balancing act of living daily is an art form. A moving, breathing, anything but static way of soulful existence. 

Sometimes balance looks like green smoothies packed with fresh orange juice, beets, celery, strawberries, bananas and whatever else I can pack into the blender. Other times is looks like Oreo cookies and coffee. 

I get up every day and share that first cup with Javier. Our quiet and precious alone time together. Then I sit on my cushion in front of an altar and reminders of qualities important to embody as part of my life's message. Sarasvati for creativity. Laskshmi for beauty. Both from New Orleans during last year's Bhaktimmersion. Ganesha from Joshua Tree, the remover of obstacles. The Virgen of Guadalupe and amethyst angel to remind me of feeling protected and guided. A tiny yogi sitting on a square piece of Connemara stone from Ireland with its round center. A crystal from my Reiki teacher. A candle to remind of me of the perpetual light within to guide me along my daily adventures. Buddha was too big for the alter so there are several around the house and yard as a reminder of the Boddhisattva. A reminder of my commitments for life.

Self care before everyone else care is a balancing act. Sometimes I need a hike in the mountains, restorative yoga, a book and cup of tea. To just sit on my porch, listen and be. Other times I need to wear my pj's all day and marry Netflix. Til death do us part. I'm never getting up again. And then I do. 

It can be easy for me to loose sight of all the energy going out to others. Family, pets, work, home, anywhere or everywhere. I love my life and enjoy living. 

Sometimes, I get Grinchy and have grumpy moments of: How many times are we going to celebrate one holiday!? One celebration per holiday is enough, right? Isn't celebrating the fact that we are alive and breathing and healthy celebration enough? I think so. Schools and some cultural traditions beg to differ. As my grandpa Jimmy, born in Texas, lived and loved Baja used to say, "Sweetie, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

When I was designing and building, I learned to balance the nature of my work and how to restore. Not to perfection. I still overdid it from time to time. Which was an improvement and evolution from perpetually overdoing. A kind of balance experienced in itself.

In a time and culture where we are encouraged to contantly go bigger, grow bigger, do more, and as I mature, I lean more into: slow down, integrate, deepen and evolve naturally. Nothing stays the same. Even if we try to make it stay. Staying, even if momentarily, is another way of being with the natural flow of life. The rise and fall of the breath. The rustle of the wind in the trees. A wind chime. Bird songs. Sleeping dogs. Creative projects naturally grow, expand, deepen, connect and integrate this ongoing existence on earth.

As I focus on slowing down, life keeps revving, ideas ignite enjoyable and inspiring ways to take my work out into the world. This chapter comes with new learnings on how to balance.

How to balance giving and receiving?

How to be the giver and receiver at once to restore my own energy, health, maintain vitality so I can keep on participating in this life I love to live?

When to reach out and let myself completely be on the receiving end.

The recognition that every day, in some way, I am receiving and giving. Take notice of the subtleties. Be grateful for opportunities. For the spaciousness that is here and available in between each breath. In listening. And being.

Sometimes participation is out there, other times in here. Often it is dance between the two. A balancing act. There are many ways to participate.

At the heart of the matter, there are more questions:

Am I giving enough?

Am I giving back for all I have received?

The recognition that every day, the first words I hear are, "Ya esta el cafe." And the love I feel for that act. Someone I love made me coffee.

I hope that the actions of my own life mirror the kindess, love and generosity I have been blessed to receive.


Yogi Bhajan wrote, 
"If you want to learn something, read about it. 
If you want to understand something, write about it. 
If you want to master something, teach it."

The great rejuvenator.

This balancing act is a way of life. An art form.
Each version of balance is as unique and beautiful as the artist themself.




Friday, February 7, 2020

The Art of Listening Deeply


Last weekend I booked plane tickets to New Orleans. Palo and I participated in Bhaktimmersion last spring. I attended the year of my fortieth birthday knowing I would return someday with my musical child. There are many styles of yoga. Bhakti is yoga of the heart. Devotion. Poetry, art, singing, music, chanting. One of my favorite styles of yoga. Their yoga for sure. 

Architecture is one of this life's songs. A rhythm I can feel, create and see. A silent song stirred by the imagination to shelter a body, nurture the soul. Painting has served to express at various intervals in my life. Writing is the glue binding all experiences into one ongoing story. Until I began teaching yoga, my art was silent. I was comfortable in that space of creativity and expression. 

Creating audible sound through chanting and attempting to play the harmonion felt jarring at first. Too much sound in a room coming from where I sat. A shock to the senses. 

Where do we learn to be quiet and keep our thoughts to ourselves? 

When is silence the best course of action? 

When is speaking up a necessity?

What if what you have to say has already been said?

Say it anyway. In your own unique way.

Teaching yoga has taught me how to speak and share with a group of people. One reason Bhaktimmersion calls me back: practice in honing my voice. Practice in clearing space so I can say what I need say. Moment to moment, day by day. Clearly and with as much compassion as possible. Inclusion. Hopefully with connection and duration.

Last summer I was sitting on the back porch with my morning coffee, listening to the sounds around me when I wrote this poem:


I know I am here
When I can feel the rise and fall of life flowing through me,
When I can hear my own breathing
In concert with the sounds around me
Birds, the multitude
Of songs, wings flapping
A cow in the distance
The soft rustle of leaves
In the trees
Sheltering doves
Cooing
Cows mooing
When I can see
Light sparkling
Through branches
Onto stone and brick,
A chosen place for
The cat to lay on
His side and curl one paw
As he too listens to
The sound of birds
Singing, flapping wings
A dog barking in the distance
Purple flowers moving,
Bobbing in the breeze
Clouds in light gray
Hovering over bright
Morning sunlight peeking
Through palm fronds
Reminding me
The warmth of day
Motivated me to get out
Of bed to enjoy this
Cool window and when
The sun shines down
It will be time
To move
Knowing, appreciating
This time
Gifted for the dust
Of my mind to settle
Waking with vivid dreams
And mundane things
Concerns and wonderings
The murk, the inner
Gray clouds
And light to shine
On sparkling gems
Found
Along sandy pathways
Of a beloved mind lived with
Breathed with
Everywhere I go
Knowing, remembering:
I am here.

June 2, 2019


Listen to your heart. Be who you are. 
Speak and live your truth. 
Authenticity is sustainable.
Be kind to your self and others. 
Peace begets peace.

We all walk on the same earth and breathe the same air. One person’s way of life is no more or less than another’s. Just diversity. Our backgrounds may differ, belief systems, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, gender identity, insides and outsides on the physical level as well as the mental, emotional, spiritual - all levels. We are all human and sharing this crazy adventure of being alive on the same earth, near and far. Open mind. Open heart. Equality. Unity. 

Everything I write to you is really the writing to do for myself. Rumi said it well, "I was you and never knew it". These questions I ask myself. These reminders I integrate within. In writing, I share a conversation within my own mind. A conversation that may offer a meeting of the minds. A meeting at the heart of our shared humanity.



Saturday, February 1, 2020

Loving Kindness and Mother Earth

After traveling to Barcelona in 2007, Javier and I were sitting in our rocking chairs on the roof with  coffees and watching a beautiful Baja sunrise. That trip ignited a spark and led to wondering how we could pool our resources and do something about the visible litter around town. We are surrounded by beauty. The bright night sky, colorful transitions from day to night and back to daylight. Clear water. Jumping mantarays. Moutain ranges. Magic of the desert.

We decided to create a grass roots organization offering education and participation with our main focus being Environmental Awareness. We organized town clean ups, hired dump trucks, got permission to work with children ages Kindergarten, Elementry School and Junior High. Talking, walking, working with and listening to the kids at school, one thing became very clear: It all starts at home, under each individual roof. In the words of Mother Theresa, "If you want to change the world, go home and love your family."




It all starts at home. Our familial environment plays an imperative part in our outlook on life, how we treat ourselves, each other and the planet. 

Deeper still, how we live within our only home on earth, our bodies, affects how we see and treat the earth. When I see everything around me as an extension and reflection of my own heart, body, mind and soul, then I can see the connection between how I live my day to day and how that affects the ground I walk on and air I breathe, the family and pets I live with, community I am part of. When I care for my own mental and emotional health and take resonsibility for its upkeeping, then I can see the consequences of my actions.  How I do one thing is how I do everything. The benefits as well as the damage is cumulative. Everything I do adds up. When I feel good, I want to do good. 

November 14, 2013 marked the opening of Healing Winds Holistic Center, four years after opening the yoga studio. We pressed pause on town clean ups. Yes, the town was and is cleaner. And, the town's first recylcing organization was formed and sheltered by the umbrella of UVERDE for it's first years. There was progress. Kids had big ideas. But I was still seeing kids and adults throwing trash out their car windows. How do we go beyond when the basics haven't settled in. I felt like we were  moving trash from one place to another. From roadside to landfill. Talking in circles. I did feel good about litter removed from arroyos and keeping any amount from drifting int the sea. I felt like we weren't making the long term change I longed to see. I wanted to work at a deeper level. At home. 

Through the practice of yoga and care of healing arts, I have changed my lifestyle, one that slowly continues to evolve so I may feel a sustainable best, keeping a perpetual creative fire lit beneath the heart, aiming to maintain clarity of mind, strength and flexibility in this body. My home on earth. The best that I humanly can. One day at a time. By slowing down, I have the time to look inside my refrigerator and notice what there is to eat, prepare healthy meals. Food rarely goes to waste because I am not working so many hours that I can't keep up with the basics, the first reason to work: to sustain a life, feed a family, put a roof over our heads. 


2008-09

Where creative ideas come from is often a mystery combined with a series of events. The beauty of Antoni Gaudi's architecture in Barcelona and his inspiratation drawn from the wisdom of nature clearly inspired both creative endevors above: UVERDE, A.C. and Healing Winds. 

This body is my first skin, the second skin being the dwelling I live and sleep in, the place I work with myself and others. The home we all have in common is our shared humanity and Mother Earth. We all have a heart, body, mind and soul. Regardless of our beliefs, conditioning, cultural or socioeconomic backgrounds, lifestyles, we are all connected to each other, the ground we walk on, air we breathe. Sky above, earth below. The more we recogize this interconnection, the more motivated we may be to care for own health and wellbeing. Kindness begets kindness. Peace begets peace. When I care for my own health, I am caring for the wellbeing of my family so I can offer the support and presence I wish to offer them, the creative projects I undertake, my part in a growing community and care for Mother Earth.


 "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." Gandhi
UVERDE, A.C. 2008 at the local Elementry School
In the practice of Loving Kindness, Metta or Maitri, there is a three part aspiration, borrowed from Pema Chodron's book: The Places That Scare You. This practice is a reminder of starting at home and then extending acts of generosity into the world. Loving Kindness is good for the heart and can inspire happiness.

May I enjoy happiness and the root of happiness.
May you enjoy happiness and the root of happiness.
May all beings enjoy happiness and the root of happiness.