Hugs and Heart Space

This picture was taken at my wedding in May sixteen years ago this month. I don't have a picture of our hug on Mother's Day. There were tears then, too.

We are being asked to social distance to help prevent the spread of coronavirus. I haven’t seen my mother-in-law or extended family since lockdown began. I am working from home and doing my part while at times feeling overwhelmed.

Being away from a loved one and not knowing when we will see each other again is painful.

The words below are meant as an offering. While pain and discomfort may not go away, I continually discover and practice ways to feel my own experience with compassion and see with as much clarity as possible, moment to moment, and day by day.

I invite you to gently rest your awareness on your heart center and imagine this:

The heart’s electromagnetic field encompassing three feet around your body, one arms’ length. Imagine the connection between your arms and your heart, as well as, your lungs. Imagine the energy of your heart permeating the earth we all share. Imagine the distance between us bridging through our connection to the earth and across the sky.

When social distancing began, we were instructed: six feet apart, two arms’ length between individuals.

Imagine you are practicing social distance, six feet away from another person. Their heart space is three feet as is yours. Six feet of heart space between you. Heart spaces close without physical contact.

Now, imagine when you share an embrace with another, both of you being inside the entirety of this shared heart space.

When we remain six feet apart, or further which is the case for many, we have the space to fully inhabit and feel our individual heart space.

How does your heart feel? How does your body feel in this space? Moment to moment and day by day?

Can you feel your connection to another within this space apart? Do you feel a connection through time and space?

Imagine a time and place you have felt crowded in a shared space. How did that experience affect you in the moment and upon reflection?

The most crowded I have felt was at Mardi Gras Carnival in La Paz when I was sixteen. Near the carnival rides, there were waves of people. I felt like I was moving in unison with the crowd. We were body to body and moving as one. Too close for comfort. When I feel crowded, often it takes some time to feel centered and spacious again. I find the practice of slow breathing and listening to the sound of my own breath to be grounding.

Now, there is tape on the floors in public buildings. I have been advised to do the same in our yoga studio. Giving our fellow humans space is now mandatory. Imagine a time and place where social distance becomes a norm where we can breathe openly within our individual and collective spaces. We are being trained to feel six feet of space between us. If the term ‘social distance’ doesn’t resonate with you, what might you call a sense of spaciousness and ease between beings?

In the words of Frank Lloyd Wright, "Space is the breath of art."

How can we be in this ever changing space and breathe calmly with ourselves and others?

Hugs are and will be more appreciated than ever. Shared heart space is a privilege. This is your personal space.

Hugs release oxytocin, lowering your heart rate, reducing anxiety and the effects of stress on the body, mind and spirit. Feeling love and loved strengthens your heart. Beauty fuels the spirit and enlivens the lungs. Immunity.

I am fortunate to be in lockdown with three family members and there are hugs every day. My mom is in her own home. I have seen her a few times. Hugging was not invited until mother’s day when she said, “I’m doing hugs”. We all piled in and hugged my mom.

When you can’t hug your own mom and you know she is alive and well, but doing what feels best for her, you respect that and still, nothing in the world feels quiet right.

"Give up waiting as a state of mind. When you catch yourself slipping into waiting, come into the present moment. Just be and enjoy being." ~ Eckhart Tolle

I designed and own a building; a place for wellness and healing. Closing the doors and not using this space for its purpose felt maddening. How is it possible that the services we offer are not rendered essential and we cannot use the place when the world might benefit the most?

I reframe and refresh my perspective. We have practiced for hours to years together. It is time to take our practices home. We can connect through space, on and offline.

In architecture, we create tangible space. In yoga and meditation, we create tangible and ineffable space. There are many ways to come home to ourselves. The building exists, yet we do not have to be there to practice together. When we can gather, our time will be more special than ever. 

Hearts entrain, near and far, beating together through the pulse of the earth and air in the sky.

This time, like all, ever lived and forevermore, is temporary. Change is the only constant.

I am not waiting. I am alive and breathing. I am feeling this space and remembering, we are all connected, heart to heart, worldwide.

When I feel overwhelmed, I feel my feet touching the earth, the air on my skin and breathe into this heart space.  

In the Celtic tradition, when you take someone into the care of your own heart, that gives you the right to offer them a blessing. Blessings start with the word 'may'...may I, may you, may we, may all beings. It is encouraged to practice the art of blessings, starting with writing and offering a blessing for yourself.

At this time, what blessing would you love to offer your own heart, body, mind and soul?

I wrote the blessing below while I was in Ireland several years ago. I wrote the words for myself. Today, I offer them to you:

May you remember 

the peace, love and ease

always near and dear

nestled safely within

the boundless contours

of your own heart.

Tehroma

Siesta

Naps have been around since the beginning of time. We all know how to do this; we begin taking naps shortly after entering the world. We breathe, we make our arrival known and we nap. Every journey merits regular time to rest.

There are many pictures of my children sleeping when they were babies. Pictures of our cat taking a nap in the numerous places he chooses to sleep throughout the days. I see deep peace in their sleep.

This practice has led to pictures of me sleeping. Paloma took this one. Notice how I am not sharing the one taken on a plane, with my classes crookedly on, slouched off to the side, mouth half open, multiple chins. That one is kept in the family vault. Like all travel sleeping pictures should be.

When I was pregnant with her, I was sent home to rest. Similar to this time, a sort of lockdown. Only I wasn’t allowed to walk about, hike the hills, garden, cook or sit at my computer and work. I share this story often as its impact on my life was and is profound.

The first few weeks of bedrest, I felt like I was climbing the walls. Then, there was a realization. How often would I get a break from the demands of an outside world? I might never experience this level of quiet in my lifetime and if I did, it could be years before a time for rest like that would happen again.

Napping became part of my every day. The naps were different than any I experienced before. I would fall into a deep state of relaxation. I could feel every part of my body set in place. I could hear my own rhythmic breathing. And, I could hear everything around me: the sounds inside our house, conversations and activities, as well as, outside, birds, dogs and cars.

I felt the space I inhabited was not limited to the physical container of my body. I could visualize everything around me. Yet my eyes were closed. I felt like I was asleep and awake at the same time.

After Paloma was born, and when a nap was available, this experience continued though the early years of her life. I was fascinated by the ability to rest completely and still be aware of my surroundings. No one taught me how to rest deeply. A reminder that this is a natural state.

My first yoga class and experience with meditation happened when she was two. Years later, when I took a Yoga Nidra class, I realized that was similar to the state I experienced in deep rest.

Currently, in a meditation teacher’s course I am taking, I came across the description of ‘pure awareness’ and the experience of being ‘the witness’. I am familiar with these terms yet connecting the dots in these personal experiences is only happening now.

The pieces a larger puzzle fit together for deeper understanding when we are ready to hear the answers to questions we have been living into.

My naps changed several years after Paloma was born when I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer – because I was fascinated and wanted to share with my family. That I could hear everything around me while completely at rest and for all better purposes, asleep and awake at the same time. You can probably see where this is headed...

When your family knows you can hear when it appears that you are asleep, questions might not wait until you come up for air. So, the experienced changed. As all things do in life.

The witness consciousness is part of a meditative experience and practice, on and off the mat. When I truly let go and accept the present moment in its entirety and find myself in that deep meditative state, I remember pure awareness. Even if only momentarily. Deep peace underlies all the daily ups and downs.

Everything is constantly changing. I am human and as such, a multitasker in a myriad of ways; sometimes efficient and other times inefficient. Learning is constant. Patience is a practice for life. The demands of everyday commitments involve a roller coaster of emotions, multitude of ideas and possibilities. Sometimes, at the end of a day, the conversation in family or with my husband leads to: how is it possible to feel and experience so much in one single day?

A day can feel like a lifetime in itself. Time is not linear. It is relative and our personal experiences cannot be measured or compared to one another.

Napping, like breathing, is universal. You don’t have to subscribe to any particular belief system to take a nap or breathe.

Summers and long days often lead to an occasional or daily nap. Life is cyclical.Transitioning from activity and engagement to letting go, rest, relaxation and restoration sometimes requires a bridge. Yin and Restorative yoga have been deeply beneficial to my existence. Both practices are also known as a gateway to meditation or a bodyful meditation.

As the world continues to be on lockdown and even prepare for re-entry, learning how to be with ourselves and other humans in shared space, I am reminded of a story I read somewhere about meditation in India. Large families live in tight quarters. Separate bedrooms are a luxury. Shared spaces are the norm. Meditation is one way to be with oneself in the midst of all the activity, sounds, smells and surround. This time and practice is revered; to be with oneself, one’s own breathing, mind, the fluctuations of thoughts and emotions, connection to one’s inner world which is connected to the whole world.

I believe this is part of the way forward:

Brain-heart coherence, mindfulness, continued cultivation of the ability to listen to our own hearts which are ultimately connected to one another, diversity and unity in community, locally and globally.

Quarantine the judging mind. Let go of how the world used to be.

Breathe deeply and slowly. Be who you are. Say what you have to say. Do what you can.

Keep building a life. Keep dreaming. Creating.

And whenever possible, take a nap.

Every journey merits regular times of rest.

Tehroma

P.S. If you are curious about the benefits of taking a nap, the internet offers countless resoures and studies. Napping is a place to cultivate your intuition...and so much more.

Thresholds

Every morning we transition from the dark of night into the light of day. We cross a threshold; ascending from the world of dreams.

If you’ve watched a sunrise, you may have noticed. You cannot rush nature. You also cannot rush the emergence of the soul. This time in between, also cannot be rushed.

How do you transition? Move from engagement to disengagement and back again. How do you dance with the element of time? What is your relationship to this moment and the next?

Transition is an art form. How we move from one state of being to another. Recognizing there is space in between. Treating that space with as much care and awareness as when we are here or there. 

Thresholds mark the movement from one time in life to another. Imagine birth, graduations, marriage, divorce, retirement, death, pandemics. 

Imagine this time on the planet, this global pandemic as a threshold.

Below, I offer a practice I learned in Ireland, at a Celtic Spirituality retreat:

Sit at the threshold and ask these questions:

What am I moving to?

What am I moving from?

What gift do I need to move into the next space?

One moment transitions to another, inhale to exhale, minute to minute, day by day, week after week. 

Sunrise and a cup of coffee are part of my morning ritual. Recently the carpenter beetles have joined in. One more sound in the early hours. Birds, dogs in the distance, goats and cow bells with the hum of a black beetle and another, and sometimes I can hear the sea.

I walk in the arroyo or hike up the hill, have breakfast and move into the engagements of the day. Among the daily routine, there is work, creativity, cleaning, wondering, making meals with the family, evening reading, and pizza and movie nights. The days are getting longer. Evenings outside are lovely. Pulling weeds is satisfying. Desert gardens are prickly.  

Part of my daily routine includes yoga in the afternoon. After lockdown began, I noticed that between 4 and 7 pm, I was feeling an intense low. Tears, sadness, a sense of overwhelm started to creep in with the image of a dark hole. This became a good time to insert a ritual, a transition from the lighter part of the day, into dinner time, sunset, the dark of night and hopefully, a better sleep. 

Yoga and meditation happen on and off the mat. It is an integral lifestyle. Time on the mat has been a regular part of my life for many years. With a full teaching schedule, my regular practice became regularly irregular. Morning seated meditation was consistent. Asana (physical postures) practice would happen at different times of day. Now, it has to be consistent. My routine is stronger.

In the midst of large unknowns, having a set daily time and duration for yoga and meditation practice has been crucial. Inserting this practice in the middle of the afternoon, especially to support me through the most challenging part of day, has been medicinal. The practice of connecting with the breath, on and off the mat, brings me home when I feel thrown off kilter.

I am currently working on a few designs and new conversations offer hope as others dream of new lives in Baja. I am halfway through a meditation teacher's course. Javier and I discuss the next steps for our ranch property. We are creating sustainability, sovereignty, autonomy.  I wonder when our daughter will go back to school. She is learning how to study online. I work with our grown son as he assists my return to design with the addition of his own skills. I research how to reopen a yoga studio and give myself time to assimilate. Meanwhile, I work with others to build online presence and maintain connections virtually. I think about holistic health and conventional medicine and research how they merge. I wonder what will happen to our bodywork practices, and how our lives will unfold. Our community will benefit from a gentle and calm reentry when the quarantine is lifted.

I appreciate the clarity, this time to move at a rhythm close to soul and less taxing on nature and mother earth. My car is parked. I do half the amount of laundry I did before the pandemic. My pantry and refrigerator are organized and my relationship to creating meals with family is dynamic and interesting. There is time.

In work, wondering and in between, my ally is a relationship with the minute to minute, inhale and exhale, the daily routine and a new found unfolding sense of rhythm. I notice what I can do, breathe and hold space for myself when I feel moments of intense despair. That is not easy. I do what I can and feels in alignment with our values, intentions, and goals.

Life changes overnight. Everything is sacred. Routines become rituals, rites to observe and appreciate daily. Rituals support the crossing of thresholds; big, small and in between.

Every week, I write. This, I can count on. I can choose a word and hold it in my mind. I can let that word move with me as I transition day by day. I can experience this time and share the parts I choose to share.

As we share this mysterious time on earth, the vast reminder of the unknown is with us daily, clearer and more intense than ever.

What am I moving to and what gift do I need to move into the next space?

Transitioning through thresholds, individually and collectively, I recognize that there is no going back. Nor is there a desire to do so. However, there are key parts of a routine that I can bring with me, a cup of coffee with sunrise; I can allocate times for engagement and disengagement, a ritualistic approach to the sacredness of daily life.

I can meet the night with gratitude, for I have lived another day. Again, it is time to dream.

A Daily Blessing

March 5, 2017

Wherever you are,

in this moment and

on this day,

inhale deeply,

exhale completely.

Notice a few of life's

constant companions.

Sky above you,

earth beneath you,

breath within you.

Heartbeat guiding

every step.

Wherever you are,

in this moment and

on this day,

may you feel

sheltered, loved

and embraced.

Tehroma

Reflection and Gestation

Quarantine reminds me of reflection and gestation. Learnings from past experience. Breathing in the here and now. Listening to baby goats, the sounds of birds and the gentle waves on the shoreline. Sunrise coffee on the rooftop. Throughout the days, imaginings, visions, ideas percolating and surfacing. So many, what ifs? Opportunities to dream of possibilities! 

Gestation is a time of internal growth, development, maturation and preparation to live in the external world.

“Accepting the challenges of creating the outer mandala allows the inner mandala to emerge and the inner path to unfold. By embracing as much vision as possible, one discovers higher motivation, deeper commitment, stronger faith, and self-confidence.” Tarthang Tulku

I keep this phrase and mandala image on my altar as a reminder of the inner journey that is inherent to every external creation. A reminder to focus on the experience and let go of attachment to an exact  outcome, and at the same time remember, there will be an outcome.

Years ago, a friend asked me this question:

Are you process or goal oriented?

I am both, process and goal oriented. 

Experience is a good word. Experience leads to learning. Embodied learning leads to integration and wisdom.

Think about all the experiences in your life. Every experience is part of an unfolding personal story. Each experience has led you to this very moment in time and place you are on earth. Where you are now - your inner and outer world - will influence how your life unfolds when the quarantine is lifted.

Have you thought about experiences and wished you’d done anything differently?

I do. Sometimes. Who doesn't?

Then I remember. One experience leads to another. If one thing happened differently, I wouldn’t be exactly where I am now with the understanding earned. Every day there is an opportunity to learn. I cannot go back and change anything. Life doesn’t move backward. It does give us time to reflect and integrate. Sometimes, if we are lucky, we get second chances.

Imagine this time as an opportunity for reflection and gestation.

What do you want to create?

What is your motivation?

For a designer, drawings are conversations on paper with lines that tell a story. They inform the designer. What does work and what doesn’t? I am always looking for the bugs. These bugs represent the challenges that will require a creative solution. Thinking outside the box. 

Before building our home and over the years, as we built in phases, I drew stacks of drawings. Developing a myriad of ideas into practical scenarios and working through the bugs informed the beautiful home we live in now.  Nothing is lost in the experience. Learning is embodied and influences how I see the world.

I am a tactile and visual learner. 

How do you learn? What kind of learner are you?

What experience do you embody? And how does that awareness affect how you see the world through your unique lense?

With a design mind, I see the world more clearly. My vision and mind are sharper when I think like a designer than when I do not. That is the inner mandala at work. I sidelined this perspective for a handful of months. Going into quarantine, I opened a door to see from this perspective once again. The design lense relies on keeping that part of my mind open to possibility, integration and owning this part of myself. Keeping it alive adds a certain spark to how I see now and imagine a future.

Integration leads to wholeness and healing.

I reflect back on this past winter. Lots of Yin and Restorative yoga. Last winter was probably the the coldest in Baja history. I think of all the blankets we used to stay warm during a practice that naturally lowers a person’s body temperature. Everything in me said, keep doing what you are doing. That didn’t make sense to my previous approach, which was, adapt a practice and class to the current temperature. Now, the quarantine. It makes sense. The practice of stillness, letting go and being in preparation for a time of reflection and gestation. 

Yin is the art of letting go. 

Restorative is the art of being. 

What happens to all the drawings, writings, conversations, traveling, creative endevours, lessons, imaginings manifested and unmanifested? They live within each one of us, informing how we see the world, broadening our inner landscape, opening our minds and hearts to further experiences unfolding. Experiences we may not even imagine, we are preparing for, with each day and encounter or solitude experienced.

I keep the Yogatantra mandala on my altar as a reminder of the marriage between my inner and outer world. One is continuously informing the other.

The poem below was inspired by a friend who was pregnant several years ago and regularly attending my classes. The writing was intended for an expectant mother, as well as, for those of us who are not carrying a new living being within us. The reminder of possibilities and new ways of being in the world.

Pea in the Pod

In honor of any and all new life 
growing within you.

Whether this new life 
is another being
or another way of being,
an idea, a vision or other.

Rest and renew.

Allow this life to gestate
sheltered, loved and 
supported within.

Every in breath nurtures,
every out breath allows.

This new life may carefully grow,
blooming into new possibilities.

A new way of life,
intimate being.

Tehroma

What is Essential?

ESSENTIAL

I hear and see this word a lot these days.

According to Antoine de Saint-Exupery, from his book, The Little Prince,

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

If I look up 'essential' in the New World Dictionary of the American Language, here is what I find:

Essential, as an adjective:

1.       Of or constituting the intrinsic, fundamental nature of something; basic; inherent

2.       Absolute; complete; perfect

3.       Absolutely necessary; indispensable; requisite

4.       Containing, or having the properties of, a concentrated extract of a plant, drug, food

Essential, as a noun:

1.       Something necessary or fundamental; indispensable; inherent or basic feature or principal

What is essential in this moment?

Your breathing and the fact that you are breathing.

If you are reading this piece, then it is safe to assume that you are breathing.

The quality of your breathing is directly related to the quality of your experience, moment to moment, day by day.

Imagine the breath and how you breathe as a reflection of the current state of your heart, mind, body and soul.

Just for a moment, imagine all the current information circulating. Social media, the news, email, forwards that your friends and family sent you just in case you did not see it in your personal feed or inbox. The intentions, I choose to believe, are good and come from a place of wanting to protect our loved ones, making sure we are all as informed as possible. However, how much information is essential to your health, short and long term?

There are commonalities shared during this pandemic and historic time on earth. Our wants and needs may differ depending on where we live, our socioeconomic status, cultural backgrounds, whether there is money in the bank, food on our table, we are alone or not, whether sleep was achieved or ellusive the night before, the current state of our health and that of our loved ones, as well as, the state of our hearts, bodies, minds and souls. The variables are countless.

One thing we have in common is the fact that we all breathe. Our lungs surround the heart. When we breathe, air moves along the back of the throat, our lungs expand. A reminder of life and energy circulating within. We are alive and we are sharing this time on earth. Living our unique experiences. 

Your throat chakra (energy center) is related to your capacity to listen deeply and communicate your truth. Creative communication. Your ability to listen to yourself, others and the silence in between.

In yogic philosophy, Satya, is the second of the yamas and means “truth”.  

In order to see with the heart, it is necessary to practice the art of being still and listening deeply. 

To all those deemed essential in the work force, our frontline workers, my heart and gratitude abound for your presence, talents, knowledge and service. To all the volunteers, all of us working in some way to constribute towards safety and health of our neighbors and loved ones, near and far, the unity felt is palpable. 

In some way, shape or form, we have the opportunity to pause, check in and listen. Possibly more now than ever imagined before.

The first time it was mandated that I stay home and be still was during my second pregnancy. Just shy of six months, I began experiencing real contractions. The threat of premature labor. This was before yoga or meditation were formally introduced in my life. At first, my doctor prescribed partial bedrest. I was allowed to work half days. Twenty nine years old and driven. It was challenging to slow down. I pushed the limits. Then, I was prescribed full bedrest plus three different meds. One of the side effects was tachycardia. Be still and feel your heart race, was what I heard in my mind.

For the first two weeks, I felt like I was climbing the walls and did everything I could to find entertainment. Books, magazines, tv. I watched Doctor Phil. That wasn't working for me. The beeping of dump trucks moving around the neighborhood while houses were being built was a constant.

Then, I realized that I might never experience this much quiet again. I was learning how to listen around and between the beeps. Maybe years would pass before being this still might happen in my life again.

I learned how to be still, to listen deeply and to be with my own company. My concerns regarding employment were minimal. There were designs on the table, the office staff and crew could stay busy. And, I could play a small part and do some drawing while laying down. I also put together our wedding album while on my back. I remember the imitation orchid flowers blooming outside the window. Rain. Broccoli and eggs with cheese that Javier would make me for breakfast. The rhythm of my husband and son coming and going from our home set a pace for our days.

That was just one family, one time and income was constant. Although, it should be said that self-employment is, I have learned, synonymous with un-employment and there have been many times in our lives when funds were not coming through the door. I learned to be creative during those times. Re-inventing oneself and refreshing a brand is mandatory in the business world in order to evolve with the rest, survive and thrive.

Now, there are countless families at home. Ours included. Many are unemployed. As are we. Mostly. I have two outdoor living designs on my table. They fuel my spirit and contribute to the bank account and still, they will only go so far in keeping either one of us employed until we can formally go back to work again. Like many, we contribute in various ways towards moving funds to ensure there is food on more tables than our own. Saved for a rainy day. Now, it is raining.

What is essential? Breathing, life, food, health, safety, community, connection, compassion, kindness, love, pressing pause on our differences – in particular right now – recognizing there are different ways to practice self care and contribute to the health and wellbeing of our fellow human beings. Choosing to believe that we are all doing our best to be safe and protect one another. That may sound dreamish and yet, why not? Positivity is contagious. Connection is essential.

One of the greatest lessons I have learned in twenty five plus years of building is, Do what you can. Today. There are always bumps and setbacks in design and build. Hitting a wall of what cannot get done is built into the field. Materials don’t arrive on time, a team member loses a family member and is off work indefinitely, clients take time to make decisions, the architect needs to see more building developed before proposing details and finish ideas that will make a creation sing, the engineer is putting together an estimate that is dependent on the prices supplied by suppliers and subcontractors. The list goes on. The interconnectedness of us all is inherent in the game. Frustration is high on the experience of design and build as is constantly being reminded of what cannot be or get done, either momentarily or ever, alone. The practice of patience is key to sanity and wellbeing. Pushing the edge and constantly looking at what CAN be done is essential if you ever dream of designing or building, anything, for yourself or another.

Building is a lesson in resiliency, working together and continuing to move forward regardless of the myriad of setbacks presented daily.

We all have different lenses and our experiences are unique. However, as long as we all shall live, we will breathe, our hearts will beat and we can, if we choose, cultivate the art of listening deeply and seeing with our hearts.

On that note, I offer you an inquiry:

What is essential to you?

What do you see?

When you listen deeply, what do you hear?

When we share our personal experiences, perspectives, our unique truths, there is an opportunity to connect at a deeper level. A possibility to know one another. To see each other.

After your inquiry, and if you feel moved to do so, feel free share a personal story on your own page - tag Healing Winds, if you will, please. 

Recognize your voice as a valuable bridge between your mind and heart. When you know that truth within you, that leads to healing, wholeness, peace and wellness. When you share that authentic voice, your truth and exprience, that is a gift to others. 

When we share our authentic voices and cultivate the art of listening deeply, we hone our ability to connect with each other. Heart to heart.

What is essential? Love. Connection. In order to survive and thrive, we need one another.

Thank you for reading and for being. If this writing has inspired you in any way, please pass it on.

Wishing you health, love and peace,

Tehroma

P.S. At the beginning of every week, I choose a topic for my writing that happens at the end of the week. At dinner last night, with my husband, twenty two year old son and fifteen year old daughter, I mentioned that I had written this piece. Then, I looked at my daughter's shirt. The word ESSENTIAL was written across the front :) I said, your shirt! She looked down, looked at me, smiled and said, I AM ESSENTIAL! So true. And so are YOU!

For more stories and writings, feel free to visit our website: 

healingwinds.space and click on Blog. 

I started writing and sharing in the fall of 2015. Sporadically.  

At onset of this year,  I committed to writing and sharing one post a week. 

This is probably the hardest year to stick to it. 

All the more reason to write and share. From the heart.

I am Building a New Life

I am at home, on vacation, mostly unemployed and in the middle of a pandemic.

We came home in stages.

Paloma was first to leave school. Dylan and I followed. Javier is home this week.

In the beginning, I said to the family: this is not a vacation. Every day is a new day and we are shifting into a new way of living. In some way, we always are. This time, it’s mandatory and global.

This is holy week. Semana Santa. This week, we get a vacation. One of my favorite kinds. A staycation.

We are fortunate to live in a beautiful home, to be with each other, to have a full fridge and pantry. The yard is landscaped from years of planting and those plantings voluntarily multiplying. We have places to be when it is windy outside, like today. Legs extended in the window seat, a cup of coffee on the window sill, a cat licking his paw on the other end. Now, Dylan and Paloma are petting Hobbes. Ollie is looking out the window. Probably looking for iguanas. Suddenly, we have a window seat gathering. The conversation at the end has turned to wondering if Hobbes ever wanted to be a parent, how pets are as parents, how kittens need homes and me recording this conversation trying to remember the writing I was creating in my mind while walking up and down the hill this morning with Javier.

The first time I heard someone say, ‘I am building a new life’, I was around twelve. A friend of my mom’s had her first child and went to stay with her mother in law several hours away from our place in Eastern Oregon. One day, we spoke on the phone and I asked her when she was planning on coming home. She replied, I am building a new life here and this is becoming my home.

I am building a new life and feeling fortunate for the opportunity, ability and availability of walking and hiking daily with Javier. I have imagined a time in our lives when we could start our day, as we do, sharing coffee before and with sunrise, with the addition of a morning walk or hike together before tending to the rest of our day. Now, we have time.

Never before have I valued so deeply all our surroundings and each other.

Gratitude for this life has always been an inherent part of the day. Now, more than ever.

Everything is now. No time to lose, no time to waste.

Dreams and imaginings of another time are just that. And fuel for the soul.

This is a time of continued opening, exploring, feeling - and being taken aback privately by parts of it - integrating.

Grateful to be surrounded by all this beauty and family. Good food. Loving pets. The pleasure of reading a book and to be in no rush or feel rushed.

I am learning and relearning that simply being is enough.

This vacation in the middle of a pandemic while being mostly unemployed technically ends Monday. I have online work to do. Plus a patio design project I am excited to dig into. Pandemics have a tendency to change the course of our lives and reopen doors imagined closed. A surprising reopening infused with delight. Life is full of surprises and delights unimagined or not dared to imagine.

How much can we dream, imagine and plan when we are surrounded by the reality of the unknown?

And isn’t that the truth of our everyday lives, always?

I am building a new life in which walking with Javier five days a week is happening. This is a priority. Our work must wrap around our health and wellbeing.

Walking is a metaphor for life. We can only see so far ahead. We can feel our feet touch the ground, breathe, see and feel this moment. One step at a time.

When we travel, my priority is being able to walk and have places to enjoy walking. I especially love trails in the desert and forests. I love mountains. I also enjoy walking in wide open space.

In Ireland several years ago, while we were in Kinsale and out on a walk, on two occasions, dogs followed us. As if they were our own. Out for a walk with their owners. We had to turn around on both occasions and place them inside their gates. As if we were their owners.

During that same family trip, while on the island of Inishmore, while walking, a lady stopped and asked me for directions: Do you know the way? I loved how she worded her question. That was all she said. I think about it often as I take one step at a time and continue walking through this adventure called life.

The significance of that family adventure was to mark the milestone of Dylan’s high school graduation and move through that threshold as a family. Originally, I was going to make that trip alone as I was drawn to a Celtic Spirituality retreat with Sean Johnson, an artist and yoga teacher from New Orleans. Luckily, a better idea surfaced and we made lifetime memories for our family as we flew overseas and traveled together.

On the following year, Paloma and I returned to celebrate another threshold crossing, the end of her childhood years and beginning of adolescence. We went on a half day retreat with Mary Meighan in Kildare. The day was dedicated to Paloma and she was instructed to walk in front of me as I walked behind her and allowed her space to begin venturing forward into this new phase of her life that will increasingly move her further into a realm of independence.

We all fell in love with Ireland and have often talked about returning together. I have wondered since that time, how we can recreate the feeling we experienced there, right here.

I was drawn to Ireland for several reasons. I am sure one of them is hereditary and family history from my mom’s side of the family. However, I have never felt a pull to visit Lithuania or Poland or Russia from my dad’s side of the family. Or, at least not yet. And now, the thought of travel is the furthest thing from my mind or wish list. The main reason was a resonance through the readings of John O’Donohue. Celtic wisdom is infused with a reverence for life and the spirituality of living life minute to minute. There is no formula. Everything is sacred.

This time at home, just the four of us, reminds me of a feeling we shared in Ireland and I am as grateful for that time then as for this time together now.

I think of those who are far from loved ones, who are not riding out this time wrapped in safety and surrounded by beauty. My prayers for healing goes out to those are ill or have lost loved ones, concern for the overall economy, compassion for those who feel fear and empathy for those experience anxiety or depression.

While I am mostly unemployed, I do have a wide range of skills and creative opportunities to work. I appreciate this down time to assimilate what I have to offer online and in person. I am grateful for a pause to understand and feel my worth without a monetary value or connection. This is the most unemployed I have been in my entire adult life.

I am building a new life. I am not waiting for anything to end. There is no going back. Normal has a new definition, by the hour or by the day. Routines and self-care are my anchor. Recognizing the importance of mental health and its link to meditation, I enrolled and began taking a course on teaching meditation to delve deeper into the various styles of meditation and widen my range in teaching.

Yoga and meditation are – like they are for many – my anchor, medicine and link to working and connecting with my own mind, body and spirit.

I dream of going back to the studio, teaching yoga and meditation in person again. I imagine changes in offerings based on this time away from teaching. I am grateful to see the variety of online yoga and meditation classes available for those who wish and need to take classes with a teacher.

I imagine an opportunity at this time for practitioners to create or deepen a personal yoga and meditation practice on and off the mat. A time to discover the yoga within that is ready to be expressed in a unique way that is inherent to the individual practitioner. If you have been practicing for some time now, I offer you the same words offered to me by my trusted teacher when I started taking classes many years ago, five minutes. Show up on your mat for five minutes and see what happens. That is how I began building a personal practice over ten years ago.

Dreams of sharing the studio with other teachers and instructors is also front and center. Dreams of offerings at Healing Winds and how we may grow in person again someday with our participating community. Dreams of creating are like fuel for my soul. As is, what I can create today. I started a new painting. More of Baja on paper. More note cards to print later!

I appreciate an opportunity to participate now in supporting our community in the various ways that have come forward through emails or inspirations online. Each one of us plays a part in recognizing our connection on a daily basis. We guide and inspire one another by example, we support one another by showing up where we are needed, by staying home when we are asked to, through collective breathing and being and in that way, we create a new life, every day, together.

And every day, I see the opportunity and necessity to forgive and let go and to move forward with openness, optimism, vision, clarity and love. The only way forward is love.

I am building a new life. This is my life. Every day, this is my mantra.

Hearing Meditation

Hearing Meditation

From a month long meditation course with Sharon Salzberg

Picture taken during road work outside Healing Winds last fall. We used this meditation in class as a way to work with the sounds outside the studio during yoga classes and meditation at that time. I use this practice at home, when traveling, during large social events when the combination of sounds borders on overwhelming, in nature to tune into the subtleties and deep silence. Anywhere and everywhere. It is a very portable practice and I teach it often in my classes. There have been many times and in different places where I found the noise to feel overwhelming. This practice has helped notice the space between the sounds, as well as, their natural ebb and flow. Normally, there is no heavy machinery outside during class but when there was, this practice helped hone in on the space between the beep beeps and accept the meditative drone. Any amount. While most of the world is at home, with houses and neighborhoods full, this practice may be a gem to keep in a personal tool box. The practice is outlined below, touching on the breath as we get to the hearing meditation itself.

"A classic foundational exercise in meditation is focusing on the feeling of the in-and-out breath.

The breath is chosen, they say, for many reasons.

For one thing, you don't have to believe anything in order to feel yourself breathe.

You don't have to call yourself a Buddhist or a Hindu or reject anything else.

If you are breathing, you can be meditating.

It's also said that the breath is very portable. (The same can be said of sound.)

This is a good meditation in and of itself. And it also serves as a good alternative to the breath. If for physical reasons like asthma, or some emotional reasons that affect your breathing, you find settleing your attention on your breath more unsettling than settling.

Take a comfortable seat.

Recognize that sound is continually coming and going outside of our control.

One of the ways this meditation is used is to show us that we can actually meet any experience with greater clarity, openness, spaciousness, and kindness, even as we like certain sounds and don't like others.

We don't have to chase after them to hold on or push away, fretfully trying to seize control over that which we will never have control over.

Some beautiful wonderful sounds arise, others are quiet unpleasant or jangly.

Unless you are responsible for responding to the sound, this is a time when you can actually practice simply being present.

Notice the sound for what it is, you don't have to elaborate with a story or opinion, simply hear.

Eyes can be open or closed (gaze resting - eye lids soft).

Hear the sounds that arise and pass away as though they are washing through you.

There's nothing you need to do about these sounds.

You don't need to respond.

You needn't try to stop them, whether it's the sound of my voice, or other sounds, some near, some far, some welcome, some not so welcome.

Maybe it's the sound of traffic or the wind rustling in the trees.

In either case, it's simply sound rising and passing away.

You can notice changes in intensity and volume.

As the sound washes through you, without interference, without judgement, you don't have to send your ears out to listen.

Relax deep inside.

Create a vast sense of space, in which sound is rising and falling, rising and falling.

If you find yourself getting tense or craving more of a sound, take a deep breath, simply relax.

The sound will pass away without regard to our clinging or condemning.

Simply notice that sound arises.

We have a certain response to it.

And there's a little space in between those two.

Stay open for the appearance for the next sound.

And when you feel ready, you can open your eyes and relax.

You can reflect on the difference you experienced between resisting a sound and simply hearing it.

Following out after a sound, and simply being with it.

See if you can take some of that understanding into your day.

We don't meditate to get better at meditating. We meditate to get better at life."

Sharon Salzberg