Here and : Now :
Posted: March 6, 2015 Filed under: Kindness, Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Bike Repair, Bliss, Body Image, Buddhism, cycling, DIY, Identity, kids, kindness, meditation, Omaha, Omaha Bicycle Co., Omaha Bicycle Swap Meet and Expo!, perspective, Self-Help, Spring, Star Wars Rebels, yoga, Zen 5 CommentsOnly the hand that erases can write the true thing-
Do you want to “train” with a riding partner who is hesitant to think that things will work themselves out fine and dandy further down the road? Or do you want to practice next to a Pollyannaish yoga princess who never, ever – never ever thinks that anything could go wrong during yoga class – Until it does, chipped nail polish and all? Have you noticed of late this “spiritual presence” wafting in the air, pressure of having to be positive, jovial, and enthusiastic every stinking moment of the day?!? Even my Son asked me the other morning if I was feeling excited about rebuilding a Cannondale Headshok that exploded on me recently. “What was that little dude?” I said, “You must be kidding.” He paused, looked into my furrowed eyes and simply laughed. He knew he was trying to manipulate me into feeling “something” I was not at the moment, or he wanted to watch Star Wars Rebels?!?. Anyways, he could not help himself. He just had to give this leaky, broken down fork, a fork that was going to bother me for the rest of the mountain bike racing season, a positive spin.
…
What’s lost in our “spiritual presence” conquest, constantly needing to be coaxed and persuaded into balance – Is perspective. What is truly lost, is the idea to question the way we experience ourselves and others before we even acknowledge these negative thought(s) or event(s). True spiritual practice kindly offers us perspective. Once we tap into who we truly are, we look at the particular, nuanced daily experiences with wisdom and a gentle heart. We don’t have to take “life” so seriously anymore. Just looking at our inner thoughts and feelings from the perspective of – Being – causes us to find peace and smile. A deeply rooted spiritual practice allows us to observe, allowing the wonders of life to unfold before our very eyes – naturally.
Daily Meditation:
Kids and broken bike parts are wonderful when it comes to offering a new perspective on this “thing” called life.
*Please join me this coming Sunday for the Omaha Bicycle Swap Meet and Expo! Mention that you heard about it here and I’ll be sure to get you a coffee from Omaha Bicycle Co.*
Greeting to Spring (Not Without Trepidation)
Posted: March 5, 2015 Filed under: Kindness, Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, compassion, Identity, kindness, life, love, meditation, nature, passion, Poetry, Prose, Robert Lax, writing, yoga Leave a comment…
Over the back of the Florida basker,
over the froth of the Firth of Forth,
Up from Tahiti and Madagascar,
Lo, the sun walks north.
The first bright day makes sing the slackers
While leaves explode like firecrackers,
The duck flies forth to greet the spring
And sweetly municipal pigeons sing.
Where the duck quacks, where the bird sings,
We will speak of past things.
Come out with your marbles, come out with your Croup,
The grass is as green as a Girl Scout troop;
In the Mall the stone acoustics stand
Like a listening ear for the Goldman band.
At an outside table, where the sun’s bright glare is,
We will speak of darkened Paris.
Meanwhile, like attendants who hasten the hoofs
Of the ponies who trot in the shadow of roofs,
The sun, in his running, will hasten the plan
Of plants and fishes, beast and man.
We’ll turn our eyes to the sogging ground
And guess if the earth is cracked or round.
Over the plans of the parties at strife,
Over the planes in the waiting north,
Over the average man and his wife,
Lo, the sun walks forth!
– Robert Lax
For a Five-Year-Old
Posted: February 26, 2015 Filed under: Kindness, Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Children, Fleur Adcock, Identity, Internet, life, parenting, Poetry, Seva, Spring, writing, yoga 1 Comment…
A snail is climbing up the window-sill
into your room, after a night of rain.
You call me in to see and I explain
that it would be unkind to leave it there:
it might crawl to the floor; we must take care
that no one squashes it. You understand,
and carry it outside, with careful hand,
to eat a daffodil.
I see, then, that a kind of faith prevails:
your gentleness is moulded still by words
from me, who have trapped mice and shot wild birds,
from me, who drowned your kittens, who betrayed
your closest relatives and who purveyed
the harshest kind of truth to many another,
But that is how things are: I am your mother,
And we are kind to snails.

































