Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

I was sitting in my oversized chair last evening, watching a new Netflix show, when the very top of the full moon edged above the apartment building next door. I watched it rise, finally appearing entirely. I switched off the TV, spread out my meditation blanket, lit the candle, and turned off the one lamp in the living room. In the yellow light of the moon and the flickering candlelight, I settled onto the blanket. Ado came over and curled up right against my legs, and together we spent the next half hour in meditation. Well, I tried to in any case. The moon shining through the piece of stained glass art in the window. Maybe it was the effect of the full moon. Maybe it was the warmth of Ado pressing against my legs, feeling his breathing, feeling his energy. Whatever it was, I just couldn't go into full-on meditation. Instead, a memory from long ago surfaced, one that I've not visited in a very, very long time. Because I'm ashamed of the decision I made. But last e...

I recently finished reading The Yamas and Niyamas by Deborah Adele. I can't remember another book I wrote in as much as I wrote in this book. I felt like the ideas were reaching out and grabbing me by the collar, telling me, "Hey, we're talking to you." I now carry the book with me wherever I go. I specifically bought a bag big enough to put the book and a notebook in, so I can pull the book out and read it again, or pull the notebook out and write something that strikes me. This book came along in my yoga journey at the just-right time. It will go with me on my long cycling rides. I will use it to guide me as I move through my days. A part of my yoga journey has included meditation. I took a meditation class at the studio I attend, and I loved each week we met, learned more about meditation. I'm now reading Mindfulness in Plain English by Bhante Gunaratana, and this evening, as I mused over something about myself that I am unhappy about, my thoughts turned t...

I saw a blue dragon looking me square in the eyes. Seriously, I did. Funny Delightful Son laughed at me when I told him this.  But I really did. At meditation.  We were being guided through Kapalabhati Breath, and when I reached the point of exhaling every last bit of breath from my body, sitting and observing the swirls inside me, a blue dragon appeared amidst the swirls. I left the class wondering why of all things that could have formed in my mind it was a blue dragon. I'm not complaining. In fact, I love it was a blue dragon that emerged. I love the symbolism associated with the color blue--confidence, intelligence, calm--as well as the symbolism connected to the dragon--powerful, wisdom, regeneration. I thought, too, about how I was born in the year of the dragon on the Chinese zodiac, so perhaps there is a reason the blue dragon showed itself to me. I'm finding that I really don't care if others laugh about my experiences with yoga and meditation....

As promised, here's a short clip of the birdsong by which I meditated. Can you hear the mourning dove in the background?

Conference meditation. Thursday, April 20, 2017: My cell phone alarm went off at 5:30 am. I swiped it off, rolled over, and went back to sleep. An hour later, I awoke. This time I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I didn’t want to waste an opportunity to take my mat and find a spot on the park grounds to get in a morning meditation. I quickly dressed in my comfy black sweatpants, light gray sweatshirt, then headed out. I decided to go to the Fu Dogs garden, a wide expanse of grassy area guarded on both sides by cobalt blue ceramic Fu Dogs, statues whose features are a blend of a Pekingese pug dog and the long-haired lion dog. I’ve always loved the whimsy of the Fu Dogs. The ground was wet from a heavy dew, and the cold against my bare feet helped wake me up. The sun was still low behind the trees. I found a spot between two cedar trees just before reaching the Fu Dogs. It felt private, and if others were up and about, walking the Fu Dogs garden, they wouldn’t feel as...

 Spring I cycle the trail, into the breeze raising up the red-winged blackbird. *** Recently, I participated in my first guided meditation session. I've been wanting to go beyond my own space and take part in a group meditation session for some time, so when the opportunity arose last week, I signed up. What I found at the end of the two hours was 1) I truly enjoyed being guided, listening to the soothing monk voice; 2) I'm pretty sure I nearly fell asleep as I vividly remember dreaming of a low-flying helicopter (so perhaps I was asleep); and 3) sitting in a crossed-legged position for an extended time makes the ankle against the floor hurt. When I arrived at Main Street Yoga , I was directed to the front of the room, towards Sassy Sister-in-Law who was already there, sitting on a pillow, her yoga mat stretched out in front of her. I made my way to the pillow next to her and settled in. Immediately, I thought I should have worn yoga pants as I was, after all,...

Tonight's dinner, a rather late dinner since I sat down to watch the Boilers lose to the Badgers (sad face), was individual chicken pot pies. Last night, I made coconut crusted cod on a bed of seasoned spinach (and had to saute a second batch of spinach as both boys wanted more), and other meals throughout this week included chicken enchiladas, and broccoli cheese soup with crusty Italian bread. Most of the meals I've been putting together take around an hour and a half from start to finish, but in the end, hearing the boys say, "Mmmmm, that was good" and "Thanks, Mom" make the time well worth it. I've also found, too, that the entire process is almost a meditative one. I've never been so mindful about a knife chopping an onion or the thickening of a sauce like I find myself now. Another change I've noticed is the more I cook, the braver I'm becoming with using herbs and spices. I never used to work with anything beyond a bit of salt and pe...