Heavens Eleven!

"You don’t have to meditate for the sake of attaining enlightenment. If you are not interested in enlightenment, you can practice samatha ["calm abiding" meditation] to be natural—to not be so swayed by circumstances. Most of the time we are not in control of ourselves; our mind is always attracted to, or distracted by, something—our enemies, our lovers, our friends, hope, fear, jealousy, pride, attachment, aggression. In other words, all these objects and these phenomena control our mind. Maybe we can control it for a split second, but when we are in an extreme emotional state, we lose it."

--Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche, Do Nothing, Tricycle

I have to say that my mind has been attracted to and distracted by something on a consistent basis for the past month. My job essentially doubled, and though I am really excited by and enjoying the new responsibility, I am still exhausted by the fact that it--in addition to my other work responsibilities--is taking up my every waking, thinking, doing, or quiet moment. And because of this constant stimulus (including coffee! I haven't consumed coffee on a regular basis in years!) I have felt, in many ways, not myself. I have in recent memory associated myself with a certain equilibrium--and proudly so as it was hard won through daily yoga and careful nourishment. I am not recognizing this woman who has let go of her practice, who eats dinner at 9pm, whose temper is aroused more easily than it used to be, who thinks only about all the things that need doing, that haven't yet been done. (The monkey-mind of late is always, always looking for a banana.)

I like the idea of samatha--calm abiding. This to me does not necessarily mean doing anything other than moving within and through one's circumstances, the way a tree bends with the wind but does not break. Just because the wind blows does not imply that the wind is mean or cruel. It means that the wind blows in that moment, and the tree, if it is able, will bend. Similarly, a tree does feel sorry for itself: "Woe is me! I have to bend!" It just bends.

And similarly, my teeth are not "bad" because they are moving through their circumstances at their own pace. They are calmly abiding the forces that are acting upon them, and doing what they need to do to accommodate.

Today marks the 11th month with braces. My orthodontist was once again pleased with my progress and is now trying to move my whole lower string of teeth over to the left. I told him that was fine as long as I wasn't going to tilt to starboard. (Or would that be port?) He said we've done a lot, but there's still a lot to do, which I found a bit disheartening. I asked him if it was normal that I still have so much trouble chewing and he said that there is so much shifting for me every day, that this is going to be an issue for me. And then in a rare moment of empathy he shook his head sadly and said, "The mechanics of this process are unfortunately very difficult for you."

For whatever reason, this made me feel better. Yes, the last 11 months have been very difficult, but I just thought I was being overly sensitive, and I wanted to keep a stiff upper lip. (Literally.) But hearing someone who can really gauge these things tell me that yes, this is a really rough journey made me get a little gentle with myself. I guess a little calm abiding was in order all along.

Countdowns

I really feel like Michael, this year's winner on The Biggest Loser, who started out at 530 pounds, and lost 200 in the course of the show. It's so gratifying to see that my number at the upper right corner of this blog now reads 399, which means I'm officially in the 300s!

Let me remind you--I started out at 730.

I never thought that this moment would happen. I'm a breath away from being halfway done with this process and in many ways it went so much more quickly than I ever could have imagined. I can see how much has been accomplished within this time period, how much has changed, and I am bewildered at how that has happened.

Slow and steady does win the race. It's a matter of never giving up, and diligently moving forward even when you'd rather just roll over and go to sleep. I got up this morning at 8am, leapt out of bed, got into my running gear and headed out to the park. The track was nice and shady at that hour, and the park was filled with joggers, bikers, speedwalkers and rollerbladers. I was determined to run a full mile, despite not training for the last two weeks. (It has been too darn hot to move, let alone run.) I imagined Jillian Michaels in my head, relentless and chastising me for the large amounts of pizza I had last night. I ran that full mile, and at the end of it, my heart and lungs were on fire and felt like they were going to burst right out of my chest. I began slowly walking the mile back to find my equilibrium again, and as I did, a very fit, very tan runner went past me and said into my ear, "Lookin' good, Mami!"

Now, I know for darn sure I was not lookin' good at that moment, but I've encountered this lovely code of runners on more than one occasion, where encouragement to keep going, even that extra step, is freely and generously given. It didn't matter that I was a beginner, or that I was struggling, or even that I was a stranger--it was the showing up that counted. Being present in the moment. Doing what you came to do, and knowing that tomorrow it can be better.

As I came back to my apartment, I passed a restaurant with this quote in the window:

"Skill to do comes from doing"--Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Yeah, Ralphie Boy!

Get Large!

"Understanding that there is no solid, singular or permanent "me" makes it possible to accommodate whatever arises in life without feeling so intimidated by our experience, without rolling over like a defeated dog in a dogfight. We can see that things arise due to our karma playing itself out and that it does not necessarily have to be so personal. In this way we can identify with something greater--which is our nature itself."

--Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche "Realizing Guiltlessness" Tricycle, 2004

I had a conversation earlier tonight, where I told a friend struggling with a difficult work situation to "stop being so small, and get large." Perhaps when we are faced with challenges, we tend to shrink back, pull back enough to give ourselves some perspective and create distance to get a better view of the situation. But the problem is that we usually linger too long in that small, shrunken space. (Speaking for myself, I've been guilty of this too--shoot, it took me what, 9 months to get used to braces? Am I really used to them yet?) What then, if getting large serves a similar purpose: creates distance and offers a greater perspective? What if you reach out for help rather than disconnect? What if you're real with your desires? What if you feel the fear and do it anyway?

G'wan. I dare ya!

Happy Holiday Weekend!

Forgive the lapse in writing--things have gotten a little crazy at work, and that seems to have taken up my every thinking minute, but this long holiday weekend has felt like one life affirming, restorative exhale. I've had some time to do some grinworthy things, like yoga at Jaya, pie at Four & Twenty Blackbirds (Strawberry Balsamic, and Buttermilk Chess pie to be deliciously exact), time with Katina and Alicia, a fabulous pool party at Caroline's snazzy new home, watching fireworks with mom, and brunches with excellent company at Prune and Cafe Gitane, which is my new favorite place. We had this lovely appetizer of Egyptian Dukkah, which is a nut and spice mixture. You dip your bread into olive oil and then into the mixture and pop it oh so happily into your mouth. I found a recipe here, and I'll have to try it out as soon as the weather dips below 95 and I can turn the oven on. (Seriously--high of 100 tomorrow? Mother Nature, I feel your ire about the oil spill, but send this weather over to England! It's their fault!)

It feels so luxurious to have time and mental spaciousness. It is a true vacation to be simple, tending to the house, reading (The 19th Wife is quite the page turner!), or just being present. Thomas Mann said, "Space, like time, engenders forgetfulness; but it does so by setting us bodily free from our surroundings and giving us back our primitive, unattached state." How wonderful that feels! Independence celebration indeed!

Heliolatry and Butterflies

Happy Summer Solstice, everyone. I've got a great story for you!

First of all, heliolatry was the word of the day today from Dictionary.com, and most appropriate on this longest day of the year. Sun worshippers everywhere rejoiced! I was no different, waking up at an ungodly hour to get to Times Square at 6:45 am to participate in the Solstice in Times Square Mind Over Madness Yoga Event. Every year the Times Square Alliance hosts hundreds of yogis all day long to practice and welcome the solstice. I was thrilled to find my friend Christy in the crowd, and we were able to catch up with each other, mat to mat.

We reached our hands up to the sky

and our instructor invited us to keep bringing in the light, and drinking in the light. The sun had not yet risen above the skyscrapers and the jumbotrons, and the day still had the feeling of sleepy predawn, despite our poses, our twists and our balancing.

A double decker tour bus passed by and tourists of all stripes cheered us on. Our instructor yelled out "Hello, Tourists! Wish you were with us!" and they just cheered louder, which made everyone involved laugh. At that moment, the sun hit the horizon of the buildings and spread across us all with a tremendous glow, heralding the fact that the day had finally arrived.

I looked down at the top of my mat to find that a Red Admiral butterfly had settled itself right on top of my yoga bag, right in front of my face, and stayed there, for a good minute or two. It was utter absurdity to be face down in the middle of the street in Times Square doing yoga. It was equally absurd to be staring right into the beautiful wings of a Red Admiral butterfly, and yet, it was there, and all possible, and it really happened.

If you'll recall from a few posts back, my friend Diana said that when an animal shows up out of the blue, they have a message for you. So I looked up the symbolism of butterflies and time and time again, I came across the fact that cultural myth and lore honor the butterfly as a symbol of transformation and change. I also read that when a butterfly shows up, it means that change does not have to be traumatic, but that it can occur gently, sweetly and joyfully.

I had purchased a piece of artwork from my friend Emma a few months ago, of North Carolina butterflies. With the piece, she included this note:

Is your new found interest in butterflies based in any way in the concept of metamorphosis? They're pretty amazing creatures, and the more you look into how they do it, the more otherworldly they get. Did you know that they have two completely different sets of cells...and DNA...that live side by side: caterpillar cells and butterfly cells? While the caterpillar is being born and growing up, the butterfly cells just lie there, tiny and quiet and waiting. When metamorphosis time comes, they grow and grow and grow and change everything about the animal. The caterpillar cells aren't discarded though--its all of the energy and strength that they have collected over the butterfly's lifetime that give the creature the power to make the change. Hallelujah, butterfly.

Hallelujah, indeed!

Poem for Diana

Poem For Diana

(Written tonight on the F train)

The streets are scattered with men in djellaba and gandoras

heads covered

speaking languages originating in

Morocco, Ghana, India, Pakistan

Some scold small children

Others orchestrate business stealthily

into cellphones

Brooklyn is holy in this way;

bringing together multitudes

Making things possible that seem impossible

Inside, where it is quiet

Diana tells me to breathe

And breathe some more.

I ask,

Shouldn't all this longing and sadness have left me by now?

She says,

Oh honey

Look at your hands.

Even fingernails take months to grow.

Running Class

Tonight was my very first running class! There were about 25 people who showed up for the class and we were divided into two groups--true beginners and slightly more advanced beginners. My trainer Shane (a lively and handsome triathlete) had us walk a mile and then alternate two minutes running with four minutes walking. It was a gorgeous evening and the smell of gardenias and magnolias was so strong in the air--a perfect runner's perfume. At first, the running wasn't nearly as hard as I thought, but for the last two minute run, I felt all this heat rise to my skin, as though my body was trying to get rid of something. My arms turned red, and I started to scratch like crazy, as I tried to help whatever it was that was coming to the surface, to get out, and leave me. I imagine that this is what a snake feels like when it's shedding its skin. It was a heady, primal moment, and it took me a while to cool down.

In the past, I've turned to running as a last resort to rid myself of unpleasant emotions--I've only run when I've been at my most depressed. I can remember running in Binghamton's nature preserve, listening to Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" over and over and sprinting until my lungs hurt. But now, this need to run comes from such a different place--strong place, a determined place. I was so proud of myself when I was finished, and I found that I wanted to run more. I realize that this might be a beginner's high but I'll take it. I can't wait to run a real 5K race!

Mother Teresa said, "We can do no great things, only small things with great love. Do not wait for leaders. Do it alone, person to person."

Or step by step, as the case may be.