a week of color and making and goodness

oh loves, spring has finally arrived in all her glory in virginia.  this week has been full of so much beauty and color, i can barely stand it.  i hope you are seeing and living the same.

this week:

i rescued these fallen camillas on a walk in my neighborhood.

while the forest outside is still lingering in its winter bed (the big trees don't really explode with spring for another few weeks), the kitchen window is all about spring and sunshine.

the cherry blossoms.  they kill me.

ditto, the lilacs.

downtown loveburg is plastered with local art.

cyndi's studio is opening this week!  she is the calm in the midst of the storm pre-opening.  yoga goodness is such a beautiful space with amazing teachers.  i'm honored to have my photographs grace the website.  it was so inspirational to capture the beauty and grace and strength of some of cyndi's students.

more yoga goodness.  when we arrived in loveburg fourteen years ago, there was no yoga other than the kind you did by yourself at home.  today there are so many beautiful yoga studios and teachers to choose from.  such abundance!

i was feeling blue on saturday and ken said, "let's go to the art store."  i love him.

this paintbrush is like gold.  i was curious about its $405 price and tried to convince inez at the shop to break out some paints so we could see what it could do.

i had to be satisfied with my $10 brushes at home.

for easter brunch i made two dishes for the first time that were amazingly beautiful.  persian jeweled rice is saffron basmati rice with apricots, bayberries, pistachios, almonds, pomegranates and mint.

these easter egg radishes were roasted with brown butter and pink salt.  is there a more appropriate easter side-dish?  i don't think so.

like everyone else, i have spring cleaning and organization fever.  i gypsyhillified my ikea flat file chest for the art studio.  it will give all those thousands of bits of collected ephemera and papers a lovely home.  and the giant buddha head planter on top will hold rolled paper.

spring is off to a lush start on gypsy hill.

journey of a resistant yogini {№1}

my friend and yoga teacher cyndi lee is collaborating with me on a series of posts about the ways we experience resistance to yoga and how to overcome them.  if you are human there is a good chance you know resistance pretty well. the conversations cyndi and i have about yoga and resistance and creativity have turned out to be pretty powerful.  we want to invite you along.  if you've ever felt the struggle to get to yoga class (or go for a walk, take an art workshop, sit down and write, start anything that is good for you, etc.) we hope our journey offers insight and real solutions.

first, introductions:

cyndi:  i am a yoga teacher.  for nearly four decades i have studied with great yoga teachers and buddhist masters but i often learn the most from my students.  you might think that i love to practice yoga all day long but according to my mother, i was born ornery.  this has manifested in resistance to doing pretty much anything other than lying on the couch with a good book, a cappuccino, and my poodle, leroy.  although i am familiar with the struggles of resistance, i am also bored with that old story so i want to thank lisa for inviting me to explore the what, where, when and mostly why of resistance.  resistance is fertile.

lisa:  i am a yoga student.  it's been thirty years since i took my first yoga class and i still consider myself a beginner. i turned fifty last year and spent some months leading up to that day pondering the yoga-related plans i made on my thirtieth and fortieth birthdays that have not manifested in the decades since i first dreamed them out loud.  i became fascinated with the frequency and intensity of my resistance to doing yoga.  like cyndi, i have a wee rebellious spark and find it impishly delightful when we get together and the combined power of our resistance is enough to move mountains.  except the mountains remain firmly in place, because resistance keeps anything from moving.  i am beyond grateful to have cyndi as a teacher.

lisa:  for me resistance feels like emotional interference to living.  more specifically, interference to do-ing. resistance to things like paying bills and housework makes total sense to me, but i am extra curious when i have resistance to things i love, like yoga.  and i'm gobsmacked by the ability of tricky resistance to be cunningly unconscious (resulting in saying to myself thirty years later, "hey, i totally didn't do that...hmmm.")  there is that little moment before class, that brief deflation of enthusiasm and good intention, wherein if i dare inhale, the sweet possibility of escape and postponement washes over me.

recently i started the practice of consciously noticing when i am experiencing resistance.  as an introverted-intuitive-creative human, i tend to start any venture in my head.  often that is where they set up camp and stay.  forever.  it's really really good in there.  while this new practice of noticing increases my self-awareness and understanding, it is a practice that happens in my head, not with my body.  my resistance has not dissolved.  i have not been rocketed to class with a smile on my face.  it's true, i want to be rocketed to class, propelled by the majestic force of centuries of the enlightened, with a blissful smile on my face and a head emptied of resistance.  high expectations anyone?  i know the first leg of my journey is moving out of my head and on to my mat.

cyndi:  everything is better in your head.  oh, my friend, there is so much here to talk about that we might have to sit down at cao, our favorite hang.  perhaps you will get a tiny sipping chocolate and i'll get a steeping leaf revelation green tea and my two favorite truffles, madagascar vanilla and toasted coconut.  sometimes you get tea and truffles too.  sometimes i get a cappucino...  oh, this fantasy is so good, but let's pull our minds back to the present for a moment.

you are such a profoundly creative being.  your mind and mind's eye is alive and rich with color and light and movement.  you see paintings and pretty rooms and inspiring images all the time.

in buddhism, we call this fruition.  it means having a vision of where you are headed.  this is not the same as a fixed goal, such as, "i will lose this much weight in this amount of time.  and then i will be done."

fruition is more like an aspiration or a direction.  such as:

"i will become loving and generous toward myself and others."

"i want to see everyone as a friend, including myself."

this is different from a set goal because implicit in this approach is the understanding that you will be entering an ongoing process; it is more like a sea change in how you live your life.  it is not task-oriented but more about expanding your capacity.  you might not know what that process is yet.  or you might know what it is but you have some resistance to entering that process.  because you know there will be challenges along the way, perhaps some setbacks too.

so the thing to do is rewind back to the beginning.  in buddhism, this is called three fold logic.

1. start with your fruitional vision.
2. take honest stock of where you are now in relationship to that fruitional vision.  if this expanded capacity feels a hundred miles away, this is actually no problem.  the only problem is if you are not honest about where you are starting.  whether you are honest or not, this is the still the place where you are starting.  current location, please.
3. connect these two dots by figuring out the path.

let's go back to the part of you who sees light and color and beauty.  what i have learned about you is that you are almost constantly engaged in a process (a path!) of creating this in your world.

for example, you recently made beautiful easter eggs by dyeing them with natural materials.  you reported in this very blog that you had a lot of trail and error.  supposedly, vinegar holds the dye, but you aren't sure about that since your results were inconsistent.  you discovered that if you don't hold the eggs just right when removing them from the dye bath, the color will rub off.  

as far as having a picture in your head, you might have had a beautiful purple-y egg in mind when you used purple cabbage as a coloring agent, but (surprise!) the cabbage made brown eggs look green and white eggs look blue!

it was clear from your blog post that you went through a period of doubt about the project, but you kept at it and ended up with lots of lovely easter eggs that filled you and your friends with delight.  and along the way you stretched yourself by expanding your capacity for creativity and commitment.

practicing yoga is really just like this.  you might have an idea of how it should feel and what the whole experience will be like.  but you really can't know.  it might be more useful for you to relax your hold on that picture.  and think about the fruitional aspect.

fruition of practicing yoga:

• you will feel good about yourself for doing something that you know you really do want to do.
• your parasympathetic nervous system gets stimulated, this is good for creativity and health.
• you get better at yoga - and that is fun and feels good in a way that continues off the mat.
• you get physically stronger and your mental strength increases as well because you are practicing discipline (you might not resonate positively with the word "discipline", but i think that is what you did by sticking with your egg dyeing project for hours).
• you get healthier (related to strength, but also about breathing and internal organs).
• you _____________ (your assignment is to fill in the blank, i recommend something that itself is moving, active, alive; not a fixed thing like growing compassion or curiosity).

how do you want to grow?

where are you starting?

can you find a path that can have faith in?

we can talk more about this in our next conversation.

in the meantime, i'll see you at yoga goodness studio.

it is so good in there

"yoga is ninety-nine percent practice and one percent theory."  

k. pattabhi jois

yesterday i enjoyed enlightening and inspiring conversation with cyndi lee.  our discussions often take place over cappuccinos and chocolates and integrate our experiences of yoga, spirituality, art and our west coast upbringings with our individual journeys through this lovely life.  cyndi's unique alchemy of intelligence, humor, support and tell-it-like-it-is wisdom is such a gift as i explore my weird reluctance to get my ass on my yoga mat.

i confessed that i prefer to be inside my head most of the time.  i love taking in information through observations and learning from many sources and tucking each bit away in the jewel box of my mind (which in my world is synonymous with my soul).  i spend hours in there tending to each precious piece, admiring the unique qualities of each and experimenting with them in pairs and groups.  how do they metamorphose as the light travels through the day and illuminates a different facet of each? how does each new addition change the color or value of the previous inhabitants?  as an introverted intuitive, i love it in there.  the (endless) process of contemplation and understanding is my comfort zone.  real world experiences, including yoga class, often fall short of how rich and glorious they were in my head.

driving home, i had this sudden realization that i prefer theory (the stuff that takes place in my head) over practice (the stuff that takes place on the mat).  and when i write "sudden", i mean that i intuitively knew this already and i have said the words a million times, but it finally made perfect and simple sense.  you know those experiences where you can intellectually know something for years and then one day, usually following the warm reflection and attention of another, you just get it?  yes, that.

is there a way i can make the physical practice of yoga as beautiful as the mental contemplation of yoga?

practice.  attention.  practice.  attention:  the navigation of the crowd as we organize our shoes and stuffs.  the hard give of the wood floor under my bare feet.  the snap of the mat as it unrolls. the light warm pressure of palms coming together.  the voice of my teacher.  the structure of bone. the soft pull and resistance of muscle and tendon.  that shaft of sunlight tempting my gaze from the line of my warrior's arrow.  the fear of falling.  the accomplishment of not.  these are the real experiences of my yoga. they deserve my focus and i need to honor them.  what are the unique qualities of each moment?  how does each moment work with the previous moment to become a practice? how does each new moment of courage, each tiny increment of skill, each failure alter the entirety of the experience? how does my practice metamorphose as the light of each new posture, each new class illuminates it?

i'm on my way down the hall to explore.

a week in color {№14}

autumn is in full freaking swing in virginia loves.  i just had to sketchbook it.  (page one)

(page two)

apple and cheese would be on my if-i-could-only-eat-ten-things-for-the-rest-of-my-life list.

our midcentury california pottery collection is growing.  this girl is a bit worn, but she is gorgeous and a really good size for casseroles-for-two.  because there will be casseroles.  i'm declaring this the year of the casserole in the soul kitchen.

on a walk with luca early tuesday morning.

loving the little handwritten notes and quotes on these apple bags.

not quite boot weather.

working in warrenton, virginia this week.  i always snap a photo of the red truck at red truck bakery. not shown:  straight-out-of-the-oven apple handpies.

on the way to warrenton, i drove a bit of skyline drive through shenandoah national park.

as i continued north, i got closer to autumn.

roadside diner owned by a greek family.  the vegetarian moussaka is incredible.

peace flags in beautiful little sperryville, virginia.

this incredible morning sky.

taking another wonderful weekend workshop with cyndi lee.  we are so lucky to have her here!

as the farm market season slows down, the sweet farmers at sandyfoot farm never stop with the amazing organic produce.  this weekend, it was all about the immunity:  baby ginger and turmeric.

it's no wonder why october is my favorite month.

yoga body buddha mind

one of a million things i've discovered about myself during my 20-some-year yoga journey is that i need a big dose of spiritual with my asana.  while i experienced many benefits from hot yoga and love my bikram teachers, i needed more heart yoga.  the body-mind was all there and then some; for me, not so much the -spirit.  (ken loves doing bikram yoga and others have told me that the spiritual practice of bikram is the discipline and routine.  unfortunately, feeling spiritual in the hot room was as elusive to me as the endorphine rush that runners supposedly get that makes running feel good.)

i can't tell you how excited i was when i learned last summer that om yoga founder and teacher cyndi lee would be moving to our sweet town.  her partner is the president of randolph college where ken teaches (and me, once in a while).  she's been teaching yoga at a local studio between her numerous teaching gigs around the world.

i jumped at the opportunity to join cyndi's three-day workshop yoga body buddha mind.  i have collected bits of buddhist guidance here and there throughout my life, but the practice and my understanding of it felt a little fragmented and unknit to me.  i feel a pull toward buddhism and an intuitive knowledge that there is material and process there that i need in this life.

before the workshop began on friday, i felt some resistance (shocking, i know) and the options for excusing myself from the experience started rolling through my head.  since this summer (um, life) is all about examining and working through my resistance, i did some quick journaling and then made myself get in the car.  i pulled up to this sign.  it's a normal sign, but really felt powerful to me.

yoga participant.

yes, that's me.

once i entered the room there was no going back.  and i am so happy i entered.

cyndi has a teaching style that i really resonate with.  her level of expertise is mindblowing; she has so much knowledge and wisdom in both yoga and buddhism.  she is also very down-to-earth and direct in her teaching style, not afraid to ask tough questions that help students recognize and move through their resistance, while still being supportive and emotionally present for her students.  she brings stories, a great sense of humor and the willingness to play.

we worked hard.  you can always tell when i am especially focused and present because there are few photographs.

turns out, a big chunk of the workshop was looking at resistance from the perspective of this ancient practice.  which, by the way, is the actual beginning of looking at resistance.  hello attachment, aversion and ignorance (in buddhism, the three afflictions), you are foundation of modern social work and mental health practice.

while my memory card may be light, my mind, heart and notebook are overflowing with new wisdom, new practices, a new direction.

my view from savasana included the brilliant midsummer sky through 12-foot french windows, a tree that housed the bird who gently challenged my practice by chirping louder and louder and louder and louder and louder during mindfulness meditation, and this large ink-on-paper chinese calligraphy piece with the taoist characters wu wei: non-action or not-doing.

this is us (not me, i have the camera) post-workshop.  i really wish i would have thought to snap a group photo at the beginning of the weekend to see the changes in our faces and beings. by sunday afternoon we were completely blissed-out and full of new practices and new questions for life.

i am looking forward to doing more work with cyndi.  i am grateful that she is here.