Evening on the Lawn
Posted: August 28, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Buddhism, Buddist Boot Camp, gardening, Gary Soto, gratitude, Labor Day, Lawn, love, Omaha, passion, Poetry, Summer, yoga, Zen 2 Comments…
I sat on the lawn watching the half-hearted moon rise,
The gnats orbiting the peach pit that I spat out
When the sweetness was gone. I was twenty,
Wet behind the ears from my car wash job,
And suddenly rising to my feet when I saw in early evening
A cloud roll over a section of stars.
It was boiling, a cloud
Churning in one place and washing those three or four stars.
Excited, I lay back down,
My stomach a valley, my arms twined with new rope,
My hair a youthful black. I called my mother and stepfather,
And said something amazing was happening up there.
They shaded their eyes from the porch light.
They looked and looked before my mom turned
The garden hose onto a rosebush and my stepfather scolded the cat
To get the hell off the car. The old man grumbled
About missing something on TV,
The old lady made a face
When mud splashed her slippers. How you bother,
She said for the last time, the screen door closing like a sigh.
I turned off the porch light, undid my shoes.
The cloud boiled over those stars until it was burned by their icy fire.
The night was now clear. The wind brought me a scent
Of a place where I would go alone,
Then find others, all barefoot.
In time, each of us would boil clouds
And strike our childhood houses
With lightning.
There Will Never Be Another :You:
Posted: August 26, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: Authenticity, Body Image, Doctor Who, gratitude, healing, health, Identity, kindness, love, Media, meditation, Mindfulness, OCD, Omaha, passion, Power Yoga, social media, teaching, writing, Zen 9 CommentsThe privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are-
Does our reflection in a mirror define who we really are? What about the mirror at work, in the car, the one that magically adds twenty pounds at the department store? Becoming uncomfortable in some way or another with our own behavior, as our thoughts and emotions gradually take over. This discomfort, what we feel out in public, maybe … Is another other aspect of who we really are, perhaps this is even our authentic self?!?
How do we know which reflection is real? Thoughts and feelings that originate from the authentic self, while uncomfortable at times, also bring us peace when we pause to listen, and accommodate the wishes of this kind and gentle voice.
…
As someone who has felt guilty about my appearance in one way or another throughout life, I begin to feel deep resentment even as I’m feeling guilty. I find myself uncomfortable with this resentment because it isn’t “kind” nor is it any “good” … This identity I’m striving for. Although, if I begin to see that the resentment is actually telling me that I’m doing “things” out of guilt and a false sense of responsibility, that I don’t quite have the compassion to accommodate, or even the desire … I might even allow it to help me choose to stop obeying the guilt as if it were the only right thing to do.
After a few moments, a deep breath or two – Peace, and this Peace is all the evidence I need of my true authentic self.
Daily Meditation:
At what point do we stop asking what is right in our lives, and start asking what is real?
Sweater – Weather –
Posted: August 22, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, Body Image, compassion, cycling, family, fitness, freshly pressed, friends, gluten free, happiness, health, hipster, hope, image, kindness, life, love, lululemon, marathon, meditation, motivation, musings, Omaha, passion, perspective, pilates, psycology, running, whole foods, WOD, writing, yoga 23 CommentsTo lose confidence in one’s body is to lose confidence in oneself-
Throughout our lives, our daily experiences feed into the deep, old sense of shame that grips us. We assign this ongoing feeling of shame to parts of our bodies that we see in a negative light. Ranging from feeling awkward in front co-workers and friends, feeling our of place running on the treadmill, to race day failures or even minor training oversight(s) can be attributed to simply not looking “right” … Only serving to feed from our inner trough of self-hatred.
Have you ever blamed a poor performance, or failed to show up to an event because you were ashamed to be seen? Soul sapping thoughts that you are too “out of shape“, I don’t belong or deserve to be here with all these “fit” folks? When we lose confidence in ourselves, we instantly surrender to failure, instead of pursuing what our hearts passionately want to do. Why is this so?
…
My battered and beaten body is hands down, the biggest target of my ever so critical inner voice. No matter where I stand in life, it continually provides feedback of my many imperfections and keeps me from fully relaxing in my own skin …
Daily Meditation:
Each morning when we wake, we are afforded the beautiful opportunity to hide or reveal our true selves. When the harsh “voice” is telling us to keep our sweaters on or to stay home on race day … Be brave, be bold my friends – for you truly belong in the here and now.
Have a blessed weekend and please take care!
First Song
Posted: August 21, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: compassion, First Song, freshly pressed, gratitude, Joseph Stroud, love, Mindfulness, passion, Poetry, Prose, yoga 4 Comments…
That long-ago morning at Ruth’s farm
when I hid in the wisteria
and watched hummingbirds. I thought
the ruby or gold that gleamed on their throats
was the honeyed blood of flowers.
They would stick their piercing beaks
into a crown of petals until their heads
disappeared. The blossoms blurred into wings,
and the breathing I heard
was the thin, moving stems of wisteria.
That night, my face pressed against the window,
I looked out into the dark
where the moon drowned in the willows
by the pond. My heart, bloodstone,
turned. That long night, the farm,
those jeweled birds, all these gone years.
The horses standing quiet and huge
in the moon-crossing blackness.
the spill
Posted: August 14, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, Charles Bukowski, Graditude, kindness, life, love, Omaha, passion, Poetry, Prose, writing 3 Comments…
the jock’s horse
the 7 horse
clipped the heels
of the horse
in front of
him
stumbled and
fell
throwing the
jock
over its
head
and onto the
track before
some
oncoming
horses
most of
which
avoided the
jock’s
still
form
except for
the 9
horse
who gave him
one step
in the middle
of his
back
you could
see
the hoof
dig
in
then the
field was
past
and the
ambulance was
on its
way
the jock wore
Kelly green
silks,
black
sleeves.
3 or 4
people were now
gathered around
the
still
jock.
as the ambulance
moved in
the man behind
me
said to his
companion
“let’s go get’
a
beer.”
CultFit 