This week, I also began waking an hour earlier -- to make time for yoga. In theory I told myself I'd stretch at night. In theory I'd put the kids to bed, set out my mat and limber up. I have a sedantary job and my neck and back doth protest... Yoga works out the kinks -- from a position with more than just ergonomic challenges.
I remembered Faith Hill tell Oprah about her schedule years ago. She said she woke at 5am to workout. I thought she was crazy. Now I don't. There comes a time when you know yourself well and accept your limits. There is a time when self-care becomes priority. My body likes to sleep by 10.
Ironically, this entry is being made very late (or should I say early). What can I say? Strong coffee and Olympic highlights.
No one is more shocked than I! I would rather get up in the morning, than stay awake at night? One of my kids is an early riser as well. I love the ability to wake with a smile...
"Hello Day!" was how my almost-brother-in-law told me he greets the dawn.
February and March however, challenge morning joy. By now, I feel internal groans. My joints creak. The soft white blanket of December's twinkling flakes, have crusted into banks of snow mould.
My feelings clarify emotional improvement is required. This business of is-ness can vex and liberate. I have to make a daily commitment to choose the latter -- which is "Sacred Sight".
This is the time of year when Canadians meet Canadians in tropical zones. So much for learning about a new culture!
This winter I work on trying not to seek tropical "escapism" and be --- well, cold. Or problem solve and create appropriate barriers against that which I can not change (and could hurt me).
This winter I work through some Canadian axioms -- temperature must contrast and life is boring without seasons. I don't know if it is boring to see green all of the time, I haven't tried that yet.
I do know that I am in a potentially harmful environment and certain things are required to survive -- wool, down, touques, mitts...
Is potential frostbite better than potential malaria? Do snowdrifts differ from sand dunes? Am I built for this climate? Some blubber and burnable skin indicates yes --
BUT would I have blubber if I swam in the ocean each morning? Do I collect it on my body only to stave off cold I was not born for?
Accept and Reflect
This is the first winter I accept where I live. This is the first winter I unabashedly use my coats of varying thickness. I maintain a constant core temperature during the thermometer's inevitable mercurial dance.
This is the first winter I do not complain about what needs to be done -- to offset cyclical actualities of the earth axis issue. I do not to take tipping away from the sun personally. It is not about me. It just is. It's the same every year.
The voice of an angel:
This heavy-misted morn, as I relaxed into child's pose, my daughter tiptoed behind. Settling onto our cold (leather) sofa, she grabbed a too-thin throw and struggled to cover herself. The heat was turned up, but something in the air...
She spoke barely above a whisper as I shifted into seated meditation -- (eyes closed):
"Mom..."
(I open an eye) "Hmm...?"
"In these times, half-way to morning -- I want to crawl into your bed, with more the more big blankets."
Half-way to morning is a great metaphor. We are half-way to many symbolic awakenings -- the earth into spring, humanity into innate kindness, the solar system into it's 13,000 golden-age cycle, etc.
I even thought about the word mourning too and wondered how that fit in. Sometimes I feel half-way finished mourning who I thought I was -- Night Owl included!
I am all-ways awestruck by children's phrasing. Half-way is a nice place to be...a journey is still implied, potential is ever-present, yet one can also breathe a sigh of relief.
Half-way is half complete. There is a sense of accomplishment in doing. You may be on the top of a hill, in a moment of stillness, enjoying a view.
These mornings are mystical. Fog haloes the street lights....Branching trees, thick with white, strain to reach into our window for some thawing of their own...
Did we make this cold world tangible through collective agreement?
As I accept this landscape, will I be free live in others?
Is-ness action
I finished the meditation, chilled from lack of movement. Then I went down the hall, took the duvet off my bed and tucked my morning friend into a cozy bundle. I snuggled up beside and we chatted about dreams.
I am spiritual, not religious. People adopt and discard dogmas as per their journey. I love inspirational quotes however, regardless of attached theology. I am thankful to live in an era where I am free to learn from all belief systems.
I don't know where christian identity ends and reiki begins, yoga enlightens or buddism creates flexibility. I have dear friends around the world, worshipping at will, a myriad of deities...I honour the unique journey to one-ness, each of us is on.
At this point I feel like the result of divine curiosity --- and found the inner divine through seeking the world. Initially, I was a frustrated belief gypsy.
One modality or set of teachings only worked for a time, then I was compelled to switch to deepen my practice, again, and again -- until...
I conclude: I am that I am -- the unending practice. This is expansion -- there is no end. My comfort is now the...undefined.
The quote below -- was found in Elizabeth Gilbert's book, "Eat, Love, Pray..." These words are an astute description of The Aquarians' journey.
"Our whole business therefore in this life,
is to restore to health the eye of the heart whereby God
(or All-That-Is *)
may be seen."
(or All-That-Is *)
may be seen."
- St. Augustine.
If the above quote is too churchy for some..."Hello Day!" works. Every day. Across the board.
(* my insert for non-denomonational clarity)
