Saprema Yoga

Brigid's Fire of Transformation

2012-02-02T15:04:00.001-05:00

Today is Imbolc, the cross-quarter day between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. Today I tend the woodstove, watching the pale sun spin a low arc across the sky. Each day now the light lengthens a little. Standing out in the snow, I heard a chick-a-dee sing “Spring-soon! Spring-soon!” from within a grove of white birch trees. The river thaws and freezes, thaws and freezes. We look at seed catalogs and wait.

Things start slowly here in Vermont, even in this potent season of initiation and transformation.

In Ireland, this day is often referred to as “Brigid,” or Brigid’s Day,” in honor of the Celtic goddess turned Christian saint, Brighid, Bridget, Bride, or Brid (pronounced Breed). She of the bright flame and the healing waters, Brigid is honored at various holy wells across Ireland and at Kildare where a sacred fire has been kept burning in her honor for centuries.

Brigid is a triple goddess. She reveals herself as a muse, songstress, and poet; as a midwife, herbalist, and healer; and as a blacksmith. The energy she holds is not unlike the trinity of Hindu goddesses: Saraswati (maiden, flow, new beginnings, song, poetry, words, and inspiration), Lakshmi (mother, abundance, birth, life, vitality, nourishment, sustenance), and Kali (crone, fire, ash, death, disintegration, transformation).

Brigid offers us gifts of new beginnings. Cleansed by her healing waters and purifying flame, we are gifted the clarity and vision to see what it is we are becoming and to courageously begin a new cycle, a new season of our lives. She offers transformation through initiation.

Yet initiation also implies a test, a readiness, a challenge.

In yoga we speak of cultivating tapas, a kind of inner fire or heat. On a very simplistic level, we can generate tapas simply by practicing some asana and getting sweaty. But, the idea of tapas also implies a burning, fervent desire to know oneself. It is a fiery and fierce longing to align with the flame of Consciousness within and to fully embody the brilliance and radiance that is at the core essence of each one of us.

It is for this very purpose that Brigid the Smith invites us into her forge.

What is it in your life that you’ve been carrying around so long that it’s become hardened, stagnant, or even petrified? Maybe it’s a habit, a relationship, an old belief about yourself or another… maybe it’s been around so long you actually think it is part of you.

Brigid invites you to bring this with you as you step willingly into the fire of initiation and transformation. Deep in the belly of her forge, that-which-no-longer-serves is softened, melted, and re-formed into something new and useful. It becomes instead something to support you in your journey into that which you are becoming, that which is in clear alignment with your most brilliant nature, your most radiant essence.

But to stand, unwavering, in that fire, in the tapas of your practice, in the discomfort of having that to which you are accustomed melted away, takes dedication, commitment, and courage. You have to be ready. You have to want it.

At Kildare, the Temple of the Oak, Brigid’s flame was long tended by priestesses dedicated to her. Kings, bishops, and entire armies attempted to put out that flame for good. But the women fiercely defended it and it burns to this day.

Can you bring this kind of ferocious commitment and dedication to your own process? Are you willing to stand steadfast in the fiery forge of your own Heart and be softened? This is the initiation. This is yoga.

What is it are you becoming? What never-before-seen beauty is waking up inside you? For what does your Heart long? What is your highest, most brilliant aspiration? Melt down whatever stands in the way of your embodying your true Self to be re-formed and refined into that which supports your intention: that which you are tending within the hearth of your Heart.

Here is Brigid’s secret: You are the flame. And you are the forge. And best of all, you are the smith, the artist of your own life.

So, what will you make of yourself?

Imbolc Blessings of Love and Light,

Lydia

Saraswati

2011-12-05T22:36:00.001-05:00

As we move into the season of crystallized water, of frost and ice and snow, I have been thinking about creativity. Even as a current of deep water continues to flow under the river’s thick ice, how can we keep our own creativity flowing through the dark and inward season of winter?

At this time of year, lulled by the warmth of the woodstove and the early darkness, it can be easy to sink into a soup-induced stupor and simply stagnate on the couch. Although deep rest is natural and restorative at this time of year, the Dreamtime of Winter is actually a season of inherent creative potential. All things begin the darkness: birds in their eggs, babies in bellies, seeds tucked into the soil, dreams in our subconscious. This dark, quiet time of year from Samhain (Halloween) to Winter Solstice is a time of conception, of setting intentions, of getting clear about what it is we want to manifest and create. The Winter Solstice heralds the return of the light, the lengthening of days, and the promise of new beginnings.

It is Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of artistic expression, creative flow, and initiation, who holds this energy of the first ray of sunlight coming up over the hills on Solstice morning. It is she who flows beneath the surface of the frozen river water, reminding of us of the presence of possibility and potential even when things seem stuck or stagnant. Riding on her white swan, a lute and a scroll in her hands, she is the words that flow from our mouths when we sing, from our pens when we write. She is the artistry that flows from our brushes when we paint, from our bodies when we dance or practice yoga.

Before she was considered the goddess of art and wisdom, Saraswati was originally a river goddess. As the mineral-rich snows melt from the high mountains and flow down to nourish the valleys below, so our ideas, concepts, and knowledge flow down from the third eye (Brahma, the mind) to the throat chakra where they are expressed outwardly in the form of speech, song, poetry, or story. Saraswati is sometimes called “Vach,” (as in our words “vocal” or “voice”), the Goddess of Divine Speech. When we string together letters to make words, and words to make sentences, we are spelling. (Yes, as in “to cast a spell.”) Saraswati embodies Matrika Shakti, the power to give meaning to words, and the power to manifest ideas into reality, powers that all of us have.

As we approach the Winter Solstice, it is time to make intention, to choose carefully the words that will empower us to manifest the creations we envision. Because we are mostly made of water, we hold the energetic imprint of our intentions on a cellular level. So choose mindfully!

Creativity has its own flow and rhythm. Just as the moon phases and the tides pulse, just as the wheel of the year turns and the white swans migrate over shifting landscapes, our own creative juices ebb and flow. Just as a river needs its banks, our creativity needs a container to help channel and focus its energy. A little structure goes a long way. A well-crafted intention can serve this purpose, especially in the form a simple commitment, such as, “I will write at least one page in my journal every night,” or, “I will go to at least one dance class a week.”

In the coming weeks, as you sit on your yoga mat, your meditation cushion, or even on the couch by the woodstove, use your exhalations to imagine obstacles to your intentions (such as “I don’t have time for that,” or “I’m not really good at that,” etc.) melting away from you like snow melting into the earth to be recycled into next year’s growth. With every new breath (in-spir-ation) lovingly repeat your intention aloud or to yourself. Feel the flow of your breath, the current of your aliveness, the gift of creative energy: Shakti.

Many Blessings on your sacred journey across the dark womb waters of winter. May the return of the light bring you the joy of seeing your creative visions and intentions manifest into reality!

Durga Occupies Wall Street

2011-10-10T15:05:00.000-04:00

The Hindu festival of Navaratri, the nine-night celebration ofthe Goddess in all her forms, culminates in VijayaDashami, a day honoring the Victory of the Goddess Durga over theBuffalo-Headed Demon, Mahishasura.

This Friday I was honored totake part in a Vijaya Day ritual here in Vermont. One of the other participants had justreturned from “Occupy Wall Street,” a growing movement of thousands of peoplein New York City, gathered together to shed light on, among other things, theimmense disparity between the wealthy 1% in this country and the rest of us. (http://occupywallst.org/)

He described this gatheringas incredibly peaceful—very different from other mass demonstrations at whichhe had been present in the past. Therewas yoga and meditation in the mornings, and people were singing and playingmusic together into the night. Folkswere sharing food, making new friends, and making decisions by consensus. Young and old, from students to steelworkers,these people from diverse backgrounds and experiences were united by a commonvision of living in a society in which justice and equality reign, rather thancorporate greed running the show.

Durga is the goddess ofUnity, Justice, Righteousness, and Freedom. It seems to me that her story is a good one to remember right now.

Inthe story of the battle between the Goddess Durga and Mahishasura the BuffaloDemon, Durga, (whose name means “Tough Going” as in our modern English word“durable,” or the Spanish word “duro,” meaning “hard”), wins. Riding on her ferocious tiger, Durga winsbecause she is empowered by the unstoppable force of Love. She is invincible.

Yousee, Durga was created through the combined powers of all the Gods for thepurpose of fighting this particular demon, Mahisha, whom none of them coulddefeat on their own. This Buffalo Demonwas wreaking havoc all over the face of the earth. The Gods, like loving parents, were concernedfor the welfare of all the inhabitants of the earth, so they joined theirenergies to create a new, never-before-seen force: Durga!

Unlike other Devis, Durga has no father orhusband and is therefore beholden to no one in particular. She is free, independent, and powerful; shehas agency, choice, and free will (svatantria). However, having been empowered by thecollective to be able to respond,she, out of all her freedom, chooses touse her power to be responsible tothe common good, for the benefit of those who entrusted her with their power.

(Imagine,for a moment, that this is what Democracy looks like…)

Now,what about that Buffalo Demon? Where didhe get his power? Well, the strangeanswer is: He did a lot of yoga!

Mahishawas a very dedicated yogi who practiced so many austerities that that Gods wereforced to grant him a boon (the gift of a special power). He asked to be invincible to everyone. But, perhaps because he was, besides being ayogi, a misogynistic pig, he added, “Well, invincible except to a woman,” (thinking, of course, “Ladiesnever go out to battle demons!”)

Hehadn’t counted on Durga Ma!

Durgarepresents the power of community, the strength that comes from unity andcooperation. She belongs to no one, yetstands for everyone. Like a mothertiger, she is motivated by Love, and ferociously defends freedom, justice, andequality for all.

So,she chopped off the Buffalo Demon’s head and that was that.

Itseems there might be a fine line between Devi and Demon. Both characters in this tale were empoweredby the Gods. One chose to use her powerfor the common good, in alignment with the Love that created her. One chose to use his power for his ownbenefit, to the detriment of everyone else. Both characters are svatantric, free to choose; it’s how they choose to wield their powerthat determines whether we consider them demonic or divine.

Allof us, having been gifted human bodies, have some degree of freedom and choice inthis world. We, too, are svatantric. Some of us, however, have been given morethan others. Depending upon the color ofour skin, our gender, where we were born and to whom, etc, we may experiencemore or less access to power and privilege. When we have been given the ability to respond (i.e. to speak up, standup, or take action) we are given the option of becoming, like Durga, responsible. When we recognize that there are peoplearound us who, for whatever reason do not have the same ability to respond, wehave the choice of speaking up, standing, up, taking action on theirbehalf.

Whatwould Durga do?

Wherever there is injustice,oppression, or inequity, and people respond by choosing to stand up, speak up,and take action in alignment with the Love in their hearts, Durga isthere. Whenever people choose to usetheir power and privilege for the common good and on behalf of those who areoppressed or disempowered, Durga is there. Whenever people choose to respond to injustice with ferocious Love,peacefully, yet powerfully asserting their will, Durga is there.

Durga is Here. Durga is at Occupy Wall Street and a millionother places in this world right now. Durga is that feeling you have in your chest when you hear of or witnesssomething that is unfair, unjust, or wrong. She arises out of Love with all the fierce passion of a mother tiger. Though perhaps asleep or dormant in some, shelives in the hearts of everyone, everywhere.

What is it that calls forththe Durga energy in you? What is it thatincites you to stand up, to speak up, to take action? When you honor that energy inside your heart,what happens? It takes enormous courageto stay aligned with that powerful, fierce energy of Love. And yet that is what the world needs now. For the energy of Love is invincible, and iffully and bravely expressed, perhaps even in never-before-seen ways, as we areseeing at Occupy Wall Street, it will, like Durga herself, always bevictorious.

As Dani Montgomery writesin, “Poem for an Activist Who Doubts Herself:”

We’llbe the light on our granddaughters’ faces

Whenthey pierce the sky with victory.

The Luminosity of Sri

2011-09-26T14:13:00.000-04:00

As I look out the windows of my house towards the Vermont mountains, I am awed by the brilliance of the autumn leaves against a cobalt blue sky. Copper and bronze, garnet and ruby, splendid gold, they flare out luminous among the still-green conifers and rocky, gray ledges of the ridge.

Every year, it is amazing to me to remember that these colors don't just magically appear with summer's end. In fact, the bright colors are within the leaves all along! It is only with the draining of the green chlorophyll that their inner radiance is suddenly revealed.

The practice of yoga is very much like this. Bit by bit, through our sadhana, or practice, our own inner luminosity, beauty, and brilliance begins to shine through. The Sri, or divine, shimmering beauty of who we are, comes forth. It was there all along, yet was perhaps hidden, suppressed, or forgotten.

The word sadhana, comes from the root sat, meaning truth. By aligning more and more fully with the truth of our own radiant nature, we remember who we really are: Chit-Ananda, Consciousness and Bliss in a physical form.

One of the things that delights me about the autumn leaves is that there is no biological reason for their bright colors! Unlike the bright plumage of birds, which scientists can attribute to the necessity of attracting a mate, the beautiful and luminous hues of the leaves seemingly have no purpose!

The Tantrikas would say, however, that this magnificent display of color and light is simply the nature ofSri: to make beauty, to create de-light. When we bask in the brilliance of Sri, we soak it up, shine it out, and, in turn, delight others, helping to illuminate the lives of all those we meet.

It is often easier to observe Sri outside of ourselves, to see it in nature or even in another person. But really, these outer forms are reflections of ourselves. The more we delight and enjoy the beauty reflected around us, the brighter we become. The light is magnified. The dark clouds lift and the true light of our innate goodness shines through.

This week the Hindu Festival of Navaratri begins. This is a celebration of the Goddess in Her many forms.

Lakshmi, the goddess of abundance, beauty, and light, is often referred to as "Sri." Take time today to offer gratitude for the simple splendor present in your everyday life. How have you been touched by the ordinary yet profound beauty of this world? What shining source of abundance and delight is already present in your life?

Ask yourself, "How can I radiate even more luminosity into this world, inspiring those around me to remember the light of their own true nature, even in shadowy and confusing times?" For even as we spiral towards winter, towards longer, darker nights, the leaves flare out joyfully, reminding us all of the light that was within all along.

Home is where the Heart is

2011-09-14T22:46:00.000-04:00

I spent this past weekend at EarthDance in Plainfield, Massachusetts at a gathering called ::WEAVE::

Here, a beautiful tapestry of artists, herbalists, dancers, healers, visionaries, yogis, permaculturists, activists, movers, and shakers emerged, woven together as a unique, never-before-seen expression of Earth re-membering herself, ourself back into wholeness.

All weekend, whether I was tumbling and flying on the sun-drenched lawn re-learning the art of play, sitting quietly in the forest listening to the wisdom speech of Wild Ginger or Japanese Knotweed, sharing sweet and soulful connection with new friends over nourishing meals, teaching early morning Plant Spirit Yoga, or diving deep into midnight trance-inducing beats, there was a profound and delicious sense of being “at home.”

Even though I had only known a handful of folks at the beginning of the weekend, by Sunday I felt as though I was with family. I felt powerfully nourished, supported, seen, and held, not just by the circle of people, but also by the plants, rocks, waters, and creatures of the land there.

The Greek root eco means “home.” The work (and play) of re-weaving ourselves into our “eco-system” elicits a strong feeling of home-coming. Through conscious and intentional connection with our community (human and otherwise), we can literally re-member who we are, why we are here, and what we have to offer.

The Sanskrit word kula means “family,” or more specifically, “community of the Heart.” It usually refers to a group of people on the same spiritual path. Interestingly, it is often engagement with our kula that deepens our experience of being at home within ourselves. Through remembering and celebrating our woven-ness, through seeing and being seen, hearing and being heard, touching and being touched, we realize the reciprocity, the mutual exchange, the dance that is life, that is us.

This dance exists in each one of us, in every leaf, in every drop of water, in every soil microbe, and cell. And together it is one magnificent dance of which we are all part. In yoga we call this the tantra, the weaving or web of consciousness and bliss that connects us all completely, without exception.

Arriving back in Vermont to our sweet hand-made house, to the over-flowing garden, to familiar birdsong, and the sound of our own tea kettle evoked another sense of home-coming. And so did sitting in meditation at my altar, and so did stretching into the first downward dog of the day.

So, what does it mean to “be at home” in oneself, in ones’ body, in ones’ group of friends or family? What does it mean to be at home the world? Though I’m sure each person feels “at home” in different settings (in the woods, in a kitchen, with family, with animals, on a yoga mat, etc.), I think that perhaps the actual sensation of feeling “at home” is the same for us all. We take different paths to get there, but once we arrive, it is in the same place.

For to me, these experiences of feeling at home, whether in a community of kindred spirits, quiet in the forest, alone in meditation, or literally in ones’ own house, are all doorways into the Heart, that sacred sanctuary where we can most deeply experience our connection to all that is. This sanctuary is at the core (core as in corazón, coronary, or even courage) of our essential nature, of who we truly are. There are infinite paths to reach this luminous center and some people’s ways may look very different than yours. But that in-dwelling light in the center is the same in everyone, everywhere.

In Anusara Yoga®, the First Principle is called “Open to Grace.” This is an invitation to drop into this sacred space of the Heart. Whether you are in a group of people, in the midst of a difficult conversation, or in a yoga pose, “Open to Grace” is always available. It is the remembrance that you are always at home, wherever you are, whoever you’re with, and whatever is happening around or within you. This hearth of your heart, housed within the house of your body, holds a divine flame that cannot be extinguished by anyone or anything.

However, when we surround ourselves with kindred spirits (kin as in kindle, or spark!), when we engage in activities that help us fully inhabit the body house (yoga, dance, play, and a million other yummy things), and when we take time to connect with nature, to listen, to be present, then, I believe, this flame is kindled even brighter. It calls us in, just the way a lantern in the window on a dark night would.

The more time we spend basking in this light, the more presence, the more strength, the more love we have to offer the world. Therefore, when we find ourselves in situations that are challenging, unfamiliar, or difficult, we can be a beacon of light and hope, inspiring and en-couraging (heartening) others.

As I write this there are over 700 families and individuals in Vermont who recently lost their homes to Tropical Storm Irene. Many farmers not only lost their entire crops, but also their land. I have been amazed and inspired by the outpouring of assistance and support for these people: a true testament to the power of community and interconnection.

When we are faced with difficulty, with challenges, with discomfort, how can we remember that “Open to Grace,” is just a breath away? It seems to me that the more often we remember to kindle that flame in the hearth of our hearts, the stronger it is when we most need it. That powerful and healing light is something we can cultivate, grow, and offer in service to others. This is what I see shining through all over Vermont as neighbors pitch in to help each other. Truly, “Home is where the Heart is.”

Can you think of a time, a place, or a situation in which you felt powerfully “at home?” What did it feel like? Do you have this sensation often, or only rarely? What are the ways you feel most “at home” in your body, in nature, with others, and alone? How can you make time and space to do more of this?

Take a breath in. Feel the cool air enter your body. As you exhale, feel how the air is slightly warmed, like one who has come in from the cold, sat near a warm hearth, been fed some nourishing food, and gone back out again into the world, heartened, encouraged.

May you find yourself, more and more, at home in your body, in your community, and in your eco-system. May you remember, more and more, that you are connected to all that is by a shimmering tantra, an unbreakable web of consciousness. And may the light of your heart kindle ever brighter as you find more and more ways to be of service in this world with courage, and with love.

I honor and celebrate the divine light within your Heart.

Namaste.

Guru Purnima

2011-07-15T17:26:00.000-04:00

Even after all this time, the Sun never says to the Earth, ‘You owe me!’

Look what happens with a love like that.

It lights up the whole sky.”

-Hafiz

It is a perfect July day. The sun sifts through the green branches of the trees and shimmers along the spine of the river. In the woods the blackberries are ripening and the ferns are growing tall and lush. It is the season of abundance, the time when the fruits, full of sunshine, begin to bow heavily towards the earth, offering the seeds of next year’s growth to the soil below.

Tonight the full moon will rise over the hills and shine silver across the forests and fields and cities. The owls, the foxes, the fireflies, and I will bask in this radiance, each in our own way dancing and singing in delight and gratitude.

Tonight is Guru Purnima, the full moon celebration of the Guru, the teacher, the one who illuminates, who shines light to reveal the Truth that was always there. This full moon of July is said to be the most brilliant full moon of the year because of the perfect alignment of the Sun, Moon, and Earth. The Moon gracefully receives the light of the Sun and generously offers it to the Earth. Bathed in beauty, the whole Earth shimmers silver, each leaf luminous, her waters shining mercurial, lovers’ eyes everywhere sparkling.

In the Indian tradition, the Moon represents the mind, knowledge, and spiritual wisdom. Just as the Moon aligns perfectly to receive the light of the Sun, a great teacher aligns her heart and mind to receive divine wisdom. Having soaked in the solar energy, the Moon then reflects the Sun’s light towards the Earth. In the same way, the generous teacher offers the Grace she has absorbed to the student who aligns his heart and mind to gratefully receive.

The Sanskrit word guru can be defined to mean simply “teacher,” or, more poetically, “one who dispels darkness to reveal light.” According to Douglas Brooks (a great teacher in his own right), guru also means, “the weighty one,” the one with gravity, profound meaning, or heavy significance. The word purnima is from the root word purna, meaning “full, abundant, and perfect” in Sanskrit.

On this night of the most brilliant moon, at the height of the abundance and fullness of summer, we pause to honor and celebrate our teachers. As the heavy-seeded fruits bow generously towards the earth, offering the gifts of condensed sunlight to the soil to nourish future generations, we remember the ways in which the seeds of our teachers’ teachers have been planted in our hearts. Tonight we pray that these sacred seeds may come to fruition so that many more beings may benefit from this wisdom that has already helped us to grow in so many ways.

Though Anusara Yoga® is not technically a guru tradition, an integral part of our lineage is guru-based, and it is important to remember and give thanks for our teachers’ teachers and their teachers before. It is humbling and beautiful to remember those who walked this path of yoga before us, who were so generous as to write down or speak about their realizations, to pass this wisdom from teacher to student for so many generations.

Bhagavan Nityananda

Tonight I remember and honor my many yoga teachers, especially John Friend, the founder of Anusara Yoga and Bhagavan Nityananda, who was the guru of John’s guru’s guru. He said, “The Heart is the hub of all sacred places. Go there and roam.” I also celebrate Maharaji (Neem Karoli Baba), who is the guru of some of my other important teachers. His main teaching was “Love everyone; feed everyone, remember God; tell the truth!”

Neem Karoli Baba

For some of us our most important teachers were not ones who considered themselves spiritual masters at all. A grandmother, a child, a school-teacher, even a great tree could be an important “guru.” This is a time to give thanks for anyone who has taught you anything. Sometimes very important teachers can come in the form of someone you dislike or even an experience that is uncomfortable, scary, or painful. These too, are worth honoring, for ultimately, if they offered you an opportunity for growth and realization, then they are your teachers.

Who has illuminated your path? Who has generously shone the light of wisdom and understanding for you? To whom have you gravitated because of their profound and inspiring teachings?

A great teacher is one who shines the light of awareness into your heart to reveal the Sadguru (sat= truth), the true teacher who was always (and will always be) within you. Just as the light that emanates from the full Moon is actually the light of the Sun reflected from another source, the illuminating wisdom that emanates from a profound teacher is his or her unique way of expressing the divine energy that permeates all of Nature, including you. If aligned auspiciously, the way the Sun, Moon, and Earth will be tonight, the student receives that clear, articulate light of understanding and becomes herself able to radiate those teachings back out again.

May all beings soak in the luminous light of the Guru Purnima Moon this night with open hearts and minds. May we bow our heads with gratitude and respect for those who have come before, and may we dance with delight for all the beauty that is yet to manifest. And may we be illuminated with the awareness of our own capacity to become like the Moon, radiant, reflective, and, generous with the light that has been gifted to us by our teachers.

Om Jaya Guru Dev!

Lakshmi

2011-06-27T21:06:00.000-04:00

The strawberries are ripe. Warm from the sun, and wearing their seeds seductively on the outside, they cause the eyes to close as a tremor of delight shimmers through the body and juice slides down the chin.

And there are peonies. Petals drop like layers of petticoats from one; ants, drunken and clamoring, gather the sweetness from the firm bud of another.

The peas have grown a foot in the last week. They tendril greenly up their trellis, sentient spirals reaching, a vineing dance of rain swallowed and sunlight expressed.

It is almost too much. Dragonflies swoop and shine, everything sparkles, and all around there pulses an inexpressible green, a profound aliveness, a radiant fullness of being.

We have arrived at Lakshmi’s season: Mid-Summer, the high noon of the year, the full bloom and blossom of Nature.

Here at the Summer Solstice, as the sun appears to rise and set in the same place for about two weeks (sol-stice=sun-still), we are invited to pause and savor. At the height of the year, just as at the peak of the mountain or the top of the Ferris wheel, we stop. We look around. We drink in the view, relish with awe how far we have come, up and out of the chilly muck of winter and spring and into the lavish, outrageous cacophony of delicious beauty that is summer.

Lakshmi is the abundance of Nature. She is the nectar, the sap, the rasa of life which gives the world its flavor and beauty. Her form composed all of shimmering luminosity, her very name is related to (among other things) our word “light.” Radiant as the sun itself, she is also the fertile, fecund nature of the soil.

In her red sari she represents menstrual blood, the maturity of woman. With her is the nocturnal owl suggesting female intuition and womb wisdom, and an elephant with its up-turned trunk representing male virility and the fertilizing rain.

As with Aphrodite/Venus, Lakshmi is said to have arisen out of the churning ocean of cosmic consciousness (the primordial ocean from which, of course, all life originally came). Arriving fully formed on a foaming wave of magical milk Lakshmi stands upon the beautiful lotus flower which, too, represents form arising out of formlessness, dreams manifesting into reality. She sometimes is called Padma or Kamala, both meaning “lotus.”

Also like Venus/Aphrodite who was married to Vulcan/Hephaestus, Lakshmi is said to have been married to an underworld demi-god, Kubera, the one in charge of all the riches, jewels, and gemstones: the wealth of the earth. Kubera is said to be Lord of the Yaksas, vegetative beings who are portrayed with vines and leaves coming out of their mouths and navels (much like the “Green-man” whose images are found throughout Europe).

In some parts of rural India, Lakshmi (known originally simply as “Sri”) is still worshipped in the form of cow dung, for it is she who gives life to the crops. In the “Sri-sukta” she is described as being moist, “perceptible through odor,” “abundant in harvest,” and “dwelling in cow dung.” As one of her incarnations, she was Sita, whose name means “furrow” and who was discovered, fully formed, in her father’s field. In some texts Lakshmi has a son named Kardama, which means mud or mire.

Lakshmi is creativity, radiant vitality, and abundance. She is the beauty and the vibrancy of the green earth. She is the fertile power of the soil and of our own hearts. It is no accident that she is often described as dwelling in the heart, the emerald green of the anahata chakra, the place through which we communicate with the plants and the green world. Our blood is but one molecule different than chlorophyll.

And so, at this most brilliant time, as we pause to kneel on the earth before the blood-red jewels of strawberries; as we pause to savor their sweet flesh, still warm from the generous rays of the sun; we remember and honor, too, the dark web of soil that gives us life, that nourishes us, and from which we are never really separated.

The gift of Lakshmi is that she reveals the abundance and possibility that is already within each one of us. We are not separate from Nature. The vitality, the luminosity, the beauty and creative splendor you perceive in the natural world around you is you.

As John Seed writes, “Once we have fallen in love outwards, once we have experience the fierce joy of life that attends extending our identity into nature, once we realize that the nature within and the nature without are continuous, then we too may share and manifest the exquisite beauty and effortless grace associated with the natural world.”

This is the time to ask, “What within me is ready to flower into fullness?” “What delicious expression of my creativity, my brilliance, my potential is ripening in this new season of light and abundance?”

On these longest days, we pause. We savor. We delight in the gifts that one after another unfurl themselves before us like ferns or pea tendrils. And even as the strawberry is consumed and the peony’s petals fall we can ask, as Rainer Maria Rilke asks:

Earth, isn’t this what you want?

To arise in us, invisible?

Is it not your dream, to enter us so wholly

There’s nothing left outside us to see?

What, if not transformation,

Is your deepest purpose?

Earth, my love, I want that, too. Believe me,

No more of you springtimes are needed

To win me over – even one flower

Is more than enough.

Sheer abundance of being

Floods my heart.

The Tantra of Beltane

2011-04-26T18:31:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, suddenly, the coltsfoot began blooming along the side of the road, brilliant yellow amid the dull piles of gravel and sand from winters’ plow-trucks. The last piles of snow in the woods are receding, giving way to the thousands of tiny trout lilies poking up bravely through the matted leaves. And last night, above the sound of the raging creek, still muddied and thick with snowmelt, I heard the voice of the hermit thrush for the first time since last year. A trilling, spiraling, warbling waterfall of music, it stilled me completely and I stood on the porch with no coat on, listening with my whole body.

It seems that spring is finally here, in all its bright colors and its dinginess, in all its dissonance and its harmony. And we are almost to the end of that “cruelest month” of April, which means, thankfully, that it is almost time for Beltane.

Beltane, considered the beginning of summer in Europe, is, for us Vermonters, a celebration of spring’s triumph over a long (seven months long this year!) winter. We will be lucky to have daffodils to put in our May crowns this year, and luckier still if the ground is thawed fully enough to plant into the earth that divine symbol of regeneration and fertility: The Maypole.

Each year, as my ancestors have done for centuries, we have a Beltane festival to welcome the return of spring and to celebrate life, love, and community. It is always joyful to see everyone’s faces after the long winter. Many of us who live far from town have been hibernating for months, isolated by the deep snow and thick ice. As we encircle the Maypole, we look around, grateful for our friends, our family, our interconnection.

The Maypole is the central symbol of our celebration, representing not only fertility and sacred union, but also the colorful interweaving of our human communities, the ecosystems where we dwell, and the unseen worlds around and within us. The Maypole dance is a dance of relationship, a remembrance of the interweaving of the world, a celebration of the delicious entanglement of being alive on earth.

In yogic philosophy, this entanglement is known as the Tantra. Tantra means web or weaving. It is the premise of Anusara® Yoga, as a Tantric tradition, that we are all connected, woven together in a beautiful, wild pattern, too grand for us to see all at once. This shimmering web of consciousness holds, supports, and nourishes us, and we are each an inexorable part of it. Each one of us is necessary to the pattern. And none of us is alone. The web is made of love, saprema.

On Beltane, we each hold the end of a ribbon attached to a wreath at the top of the Maypole. We begin to spiral around, half of us going one way and half the other, ducking and dancing around each other, over and under, over and under, the ribbons begin to interweave, creating a beautiful pattern around the pole. If the ribbons were all the same color, the pattern would not be apparent. But, because of the diversity of the colorful ribbons, the pattern emerges brilliantly as we dance around and around. We honor the differences that make the beauty of this world. It is this revelation of the unique strands weaving together into one pattern that makes us remember our unity, our one-ness.

And so we dance the spiral dance of life. And, as every culture on this earth has at one point recognized, we are not just dancers; we are danced and we are the dance itself.

On this Beltane, this magical moment between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, consider the unique offering you wish to make to your community, human or otherwise. What contribution, humble or magnificent do you intend to bring forth more fully as the sun strengthens and the days grow longer?

And consider, too, how you are supported by this web that sweetly encircles you. Give thanks for the connections, the nourishment, the support and sustenance that come with this gift of entanglement.

Pause and take a deep breath. Your breath is like a sacred thread that weaves together inner and outer worlds, microcosm and macrocosm. Your inhale, your inspiration, is the exhale of the trees. With every breath you release, you offer a gift in return.

Remember that the whole universe is woven wonderfully around you, a wild, cosmic embrace that binds you not only to your friends and family, but also to the trout lilies in the forest and to the forest itself. The hermit thrush is part of you just as its voice is part of the tumbling stream of snowmelt and silt. Remember that your heart's rhythm is part of that same song and that the blood that flows through your veins in ancient spirals is part of that same stream. The coltsfoot by the side of the road, and even the road itself, the same road which you make by walking, is all part of the great, diverse tapestry of existence of which you are an intricate, precious part.

On this Beltane, remember that you are never alone. You are surrounded by, and made of, Love. And now is the perfect time to celebrate that!

Blessed be and may your new season be joyous and delightful!

Saprema (with Love), Lydia

Yoga and Activism: Be the Change!

2011-02-02T17:05:00.000-05:00

Reading through a recent issue of a popular yoga magazine, I was struck by the overwhelming focus on self-nourishment and self-“improvement.” Primarily focused on the sale of yoga clothing, dietary supplements, health foods, and yoga vacations and retreats, the periodical’s whole emphasis was almost exclusively on buying things that would supposedly lead to a healthier, happier, more wholesome self.

This, of course, is nothing new, but in light of a speech I had just read by The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., it gave me pause as I realized exactly what was missing from the perspective offered in the magazine.

Dr. King said, “Life’s persistent and most urgent question is ‘What are you doing for others?’”

Certainly, tending to one’s self is crucial to being able to serve others. Nourishing one’s self, whether with healthy food and healing herbs, a yoga asana class, or a meditation retreat, can help bring one to a place of greater balance from which she or he can more effectively help others. When we give a lot of energy to others, but don’t take care of ourselves, we can easily “burn out.” For many, the practice of yoga can be an opportunity to replenish our own stores of energy so that we can continue to offer our work out in the world in a sustainable way.

However, it is exactly this reciprocity, this exchange of nourishment, this “doing for others,” that is not readily apparent in the majority of main-stream yoga media in the United States (excepting a few charity-based non-profits).

It seems to me that this is a missed opportunity. Yoga offers us the ways and means to re-connect with the infinite source of power, energy, love, compassion, and peace that is within each one of us. However, recognizing it (and, for some, including myself, part of this process of recognition has certainly involved retreat centers, herbal supplements, and beautiful yoga clothes) is only half the equation.

As the Dalai Lama wrote, “It is not enough to be compassionate. You must also act.”

Nature (and therefore yoga) works in pulsations. This divine pulsation of the universe, which we can perceive in our breath, the tides of the ocean, the cycles of the seasons, etc, is, in Sanskrit, called Spanda (little did the sages of old know that this word would become the etymological root of the name for that modern and oh-so-desirable product: Spandex!)

In Anusara Yoga® asana practice we learn to draw inwards with Muscular Energy, and then radiate back outwards with Organic Energy, creating balanced action in the physical body that supports and sustains the pose. When we nourish ourselves through yoga and meditation, connecting to our inner power and realizing our true nature, and then offer this energy outwardly, in service, in seva, as action, this, too, is an expression of Spanda. (This action-based yoga is sometimes referred to as karma yoga.) But, if we stop after the part where we connect to ourselves, we are cutting off a natural flow, a relationship, a possibility. We haven’t completed the pulsation.

Once we remember the light, the power, the potential of who we are, the question remains:

What are you going to do about it?

Anusara Yoga teaches us to “Open to Grace” before beginning our yoga practice (or anything else, for that matter). To me, “Open to Grace” means to soften the boundaries of my individual “self” and expand my awareness to remember that I am connected to everything. I am part of the tantra, the web that weaves all life together and through which pulses the infinite, shimmering, creative power of freedom and possibility.

Dr. King said, “All life is inter-related… somehow we’re caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. For some strange reason, I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. You can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the inter-related structure of reality.”

What Dr. King is implying is that because of the tantric nature of reality, no one is truly free while others are still oppressed.

I believe that those of us who were born into circumstances of privilege (and at whom, by the way, the aforementioned yoga magazine ads are generally directed) because of skin color; gender or sexuality; socio-economic, cultural, or class background etc., that allow us to freely tap into and express that power we find within, have a responsibility to act.

For though all humans are all inherently free and possess the capacity to create a life of peace and joy, not all humans are living in circumstances that allow them to access and safely express this innate gift of freedom and creativity, power and possibility. Those who can, I believe, have an obligation to actively, outwardly work towards co-creating a world in which everyone can shine their unique light brilliantly without fear of persecution, violence, or hatred.

Taking action, speaking out, or standing up for someone else is not always comfortable or fun. Yet, for instance, as a white, college-educated person born into a financially secure family and living in Vermont, I can easily choose to avoid leaving my comfort zone. Alternately, a person living in Vermont who has brown skin, (let alone whether or not they have degrees, are straight, are middle or upper class, etc.) may experience varying degrees of discomfort all the time. As someone who has the immense privilege of getting choose when and how I step out of my comfort zone, I feel a responsibility to take actions, however humble they may seem, that help to ease the oppression and domination others feel.

This activism comes not from place of pity, nor from a place of wanting to accrue "good karma" points. It is a natural expression of the realization that, as Dr. King said, "we are tied in a single garment of destiny." Lilla Watson, who is an indigenous Australian activist, artist, and academic, wrote:

"If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together."

Yoga invites us to remember and reconnect with the pure power of Love, Compassion, and Peace that is within everyone, everywhere. Once we recognize this brilliant potential to which we have access, we get to ask, “What will I do with all this power?” The next part of the journey is to take action in alignment with that same great power.

In Anusara Yoga we speak of “The Three A’s”: Attitude, Action, and Alignment. When we connect with the great attitude of love and compassion within, we can choose to act in alignment with that power to become, as Gandhi said, “the change we wish to see in the world.” We are given the opportunity to take our yoga practice out into the world, applying it to anything and everything. Yoga can become a form of activism.

It is important to remember that choosing not to act is also an action. As Frances Moore Lappe wrote, “The only choice we don’t have is whether to change the world.” Everything we choose to do and choose not to do effects everything else.

When we take the path of least resistance, choosing to not speak up in someone’s defense or choosing not to get involved in a particular movement or struggle, we are still wielding our power, albeit passively, to affect a change. And, as Dr King said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

On the other hand, sometimes, stillness, silence, and passive resistance (as in Gandhi's non-violent civil disobedience) are exactly the appropriate choice. We get to discern, to choose, situation by situation, constantly aware of our freedom and power of choice.

In our asana practice when we encounter resistance (such as pressing actively down against the floor with our hands in handstand), it leads to uprising. Resistance leads to upliftment. This is why today we stand on the shoulders of great activists like Dr. King, Watson, Gandhi, Lappe, and thousands of others.

It is easy to become overwhelmed by the many causes in today’s world. Just turning on the news can often be enough to send someone diving back into a yoga magazine full of images of happy people in pretty outfits sitting on comfy cushions. However, our actions do not have to be grand to be powerful. They can be small and subtle. Remember we are part of a web. As Frances Moore Lappe writes, “[This] is power flowing from our interdependence. We co-create one another, moment to moment. For me, our ‘imprintability’ is itself a source of hope. Our actions, and perhaps our mental states, register in others, so that we change anyone observing us. That’s power.”

When we take one, small, humble action towards justice, towards peace, towards freedom for all, it ripples out, changing everything.

For instance, one letter to a yoga magazine expressing dismay at the lack of models who are people of color could inspire hundreds of others to write similar letters. One email to a yoga clothing company asking them not to sell sweat-shop-made clothes could precipitate a whole shift in the company’s ethic.

Sometimes local actions, however small, can make the most profound differences. It can take a lot of courage to speak about an issue that matters to you to someone you know personally, who lives in your community. Sometimes it might be emotionally easier to send a check to help someone in another country who you will never meet. But those personal shifts that require direct engagement are often the most potent and powerful.

For example, an awareness-raising conversation with a yoga studio owner about cultural misappropriation could help to create some changes so that the studio feels more welcoming to people who are Hindu and may feel alienated by the non-Hindu co-opting of their tradition. One extra curtain in a yoga studio dressing room could make the space feel safer and more welcoming to a person who is trans-gendered. One “pay-what-you-can” yoga class offered a week could transform someone’s life for the better.

The possibilities are infinite. You get to choose.

Dr. King said, “Everybody can be great, because anybody can serve. You only need a heart full of Grace, a soul generated by Love.”

We all have a heart full of Grace and a soul generated by Love. This is the revelation of yoga. This is the gift of being human. Now, as Mary Oliver asks:

What will you do with your one, wild, and precious life?

The Wild Party in Your Heart

2011-01-25T23:33:00.000-05:00

I read this poem in class today and some folks asked if I would post it for all to savor again...

"In a Tree House"

by Hafiz (Shams-ud-din Muhammad) c. 1320-1389

translated by Daniel Ladinsky

Light

Will someday split you open

Even if your life is now a cage.

For a divine seed, the crown of destiny,

Is hidden and sown on an ancient, fertile plain

You hold the title to.

Love will surely bust you wide open

Into an unfettered, blooming new galaxy

Even if your mind is now

a spoiled mule.

A life-giving radiance will come,

The Friend's gratuity will come --

O look again within yourself,

For I know you were once host

To all the marvels in creation.

From a sacred crevice in your body

A bow rises each night

And shoots your soul into God.

Behold the Beautiful Drunk Singing One

From the lunar vantage point of love.

He is conducting the affairs

Of the whole universe

While throwing wild parties

In a tree house -- on a limb

In your heart.

Sita and Ram and the Return of the Light

2010-11-13T17:32:00.000-05:00

This past new moon marked Diwali, the Hindu festival which honors the return of King Ram and Queen Sita to the city of Ayodhya after their fourteen years of exile in the forest. Celebrated with the lighting of thousands of lamps (and these days, lots and lots of fireworks) to help guide the divine couple home, Diwali also honors Ram and Sita's return as a symbolic return of the light after a long period of darkness. Their reign represents a time of harmony, abundance, and social order and is cause for celebration and gratitude.

The Ramayana, the text in which Ram and Sita's story is told, was written down sometime between 200BCE and 200 CE. It was not until a 14th century translation that Ram and Sita were deified, that is, made God and Goddess, incarnations of Vishnu and Lakshmi respectively. Up until that point, they were characters in a great epic story.

Sita, however, was a goddess long before the Ramayana was ever written down. She was a fertility goddess of the earth who was worshipped as a source of abundance and plenty. Her name means "furrow," as in the furrow a plow makes in the soil. In the Ramayana, she is said to have been found in a freshly plowed field by her father. Although her name and the circumstances of her birth betray her ancient origins, the Sita in the Ramayana has, at least what seems at first, a very different role to play.

If you have ever read the Ramayana, you know that Sita is portrayed as the so-called "perfect wife," who does anything and everything for her husband Ram. She gives him all the credit and takes all the blame herself. She is unfailingly devoted and true to him, but Ram frequently mistrusts her, and causes her all kinds of hardship and suffering. The story, at least to the ears of a contemporary, non-Indian woman, is basically rife with misogyny and typical patriarchal oppression.

This Diwali, as I celebrated with friends, I realized that I needed a new understanding of Sita and Ram's story. How could I praise Ram, who let his wife be set ablaze because the demon Ravana who had kidnapped her might have raped her (although Sita insists he didn't)? How could I praise Ram who, when Sita doesn't burn because of her purity and utter devotion to Ram, decides to send her off to the forest pregnant with his twin sons, because the people of the kingdom are still gossiping about her fidelity? How could I praise Ram when, even today, in traditional Indian culture the dynamic between Sita and Ram is seen as exemplary and all wives are supposed to behave like Sita: submissive, self-blaming, and never questioning the authority or actions of their husbands?

For me, the first clue is Sita's origin in the soil. She is a thinly veiled Earth Mother. She represents the stability, dependability, reliability, and constancy of the earth. She is not afraid to go into the forest. When Ram submits her to one last test to see if she's really, truly, absolutely pure, the earth swallows her, affirming her innocence and her devotion to him only. She comes from and returns to the nourishing soil.

To me, Sita is Nature, and Ram is Culture. He represents all that is beneficial about social order, technology, and the structure and stability offered by human culture. When Sita and Ram are in alignment, just as when Nature and Culture are in alignment, there is balance, harmony, and abundance. There is order and peace and plenty on earth.

This Diwali, after a long Sita-Ram chant, I asked my teacher, Prem Prakash of Kailash Ashram, if he had anything to help further illuminate this story for me. He told me a story that he said is from the oral tradition. It goes like this:

Once Ram went off to battle a thousand-headed demon. However, he neglected to consult with Sita first, or even tell her where he was going. The battle went very badly for Ram (which was unusual) and he came home ashamed and humbled. He found his wife brushing out her long, dark hair. He told what had happened and before he could even finish the story, Sita transformed, before Ram's very eyes, into a thousand-headed Kali! She ran out to meet the demon and defeated him easily.

Whoa! This is not the Sita of the Ramayana! I don't really know the lineage of this story, but it helped me understand Sita a little better. Sita is Mother Earth. Starting with the Neolithic Revolution (the advent of agriculture) she has, for the most part, agreeably partnered with human-kind. Technology has gotten all the credit, but even the tractor manufacturers would agree that without the natural gift of the soil itself, their tools wouldn't be much good. Nature goes along with all this until a certain point. As long as the relationship between Nature and Culture is respectful, harmonious, and balanced, then Nature is dependable, reliable, constant, and steadfast, just like Sita. But when humans become arrogant with their technology, and forget to respect Nature as the source of all their power, then there's trouble. Mother Nature has a fierce side. She's floods, droughts, and hurricanes. She's oceans rising and fertile river valleys turning to desert.

Without his Shakti, the king is impotent. When humans forget to honor and live in alignment with the creative, nourishing, sustaining power of Nature, they can no longer survive. The harmony, order, and abundance for which Rams' reign was known, could not have been possible with Sita's devoted, supportive, and steadfast presence. And, it's when he doubts her or disrespects her, when he becomes uprooted from the devotion and steadiness of her love, that suffering ensues. Luckily, Sita never wavers, and thereby keeps the world in balance (though Ram, like modern technology, gets all the credit).

So, I praise Ram as all technology, simple and complicated, from spoons to computers, that brings order and ease into my life. And I praise Sita as the dependable, constant, and nourishing source that brings support and sustenance into my life in the form of the soil, my body, my very breath. Together these two forces bring balance and harmony into the world and their alliance is worth celebrating. Their festival is a time for me to be grateful for all the ordinary, mundane things that I might generally take for granted: my senses, my blood, my clothes, my house, the food I eat, the soil it comes from and returns to... and, as Mary Oliver says, "the reliability and the finery and the teachings of this gritty earth gift."

Taking these concepts into our asana practice, one could say that the body itself is Sita and the "technology" of the asanas, as applied to the body, is Ram. One could say that the natural breath, which come and goes dependably without our having to think about it, is Sita and the pranayama, the breath control designed to achieve a particular effect, is Ram. But, it is important to note, that without the natural body or breath, the poses and breath controls could not exist.

We learn in Anusara Yoga® to always apply muscular energy before organic energy. This is like honoring and taking into account the impact on the earth before embarking on some project using its resources. With reverence, we draw energy up out of the earth into our limbs; with devotion we root down into that constant source of support and nourishment. With gratitude allow ourselves to be held up and supported; with trust we allow gravity to draw us down.

Here is a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke:

How surely gravity's law,
strong as an ocean current
takes hold of even the smallest thing
and pulls it towards the heart of the world.

Each thing--
each stone, blossom, child--
is held in place.
Only we, in our arrogance,
push out beyond what we each belong to
for some empty freedom.

If we surrendered
to earth's intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees.

Instead we entangle ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and confused.

So, like children, we begin again
to learn from the things,
because they are in God's heart;
they have never left him.

This is what the things can teach us:
to fall,
patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird has to do that
before he can fly.

And so, in praise of all that is ordinary and mysterious about our world, including gravity, including yoga, including soil, including poetry, including our bodies, including the light and the dark, I give thanks. I give thanks for the story of Sita and Ram, for helping to remind us of the profound importance of the harmonious alignment of Culture with Nature, and of the necessity for respect and trust to bring about a true "return of the light" on this earth. And I give thanks for the remembrance that that light is already within each of us and when we live reverently and respectfully on this earth and with each other, we welcome ourselves home again and again.

I bow to the "heart of the world," which resides also within each of your hearts. Namaste.

Mudra

2010-05-21T10:06:00.000-04:00

The other day, after an emotionally challenging and difficult conversation, I went for a walk in the woods behind my house. At first, I was completely absorbed in my own thoughts. Around and around I went in my head, replaying the unpleasant exchange, thinking about what I should've/could've said, and basically feeling miserable. Suddenly, I was stopped in my tracks by the overwhelmingly delicious sent of lilacs blooming.

I stood still and let it in.

I let the unproductive thoughts go.

I heard birds singing around me; I felt the sunshine on my skin. I felt my whole body soften and receive the healing medicine that had been there the whole time.

In Sanskrit, the word mudra (which, in yoga we usually use to refer to a hand gesture which seals or focuses energy) means a seal or a stamp. When one presses a seal into soft wax, it holds the impression of the seal. If the wax is too soft, it oozes off the paper and cannot hold the impression. If it is too hard, it cannot yield to receive the imprint of the seal. Mudra, as Douglas Brooks says, is about "active receptivity:" an energy that is both strong and soft, that is open to transformation, yet has integrity and the ability to hold a boundary.

During my woods walk, I was, at first, not receptive. I was not open to the calming and restorative energy all around me because I was choosing instead to dwell in my stagnent thought patterns and stay closed off to the other possibilities available to me. Luckily, the lilacs awakened me and in that moment I chose to soften and allow myself to be touched by the beauty and sweetness that was just as real as the unproductive thoughts I was engaging.

Mudra is an invitation. It reminds us that we always have a choice. We are not passive victims of life. What happens, happens; we choose our reaction. This is a deeply radical notion and not an easy one to take in. It implies total self-empowerment. It means that no one can ever "make you feel" a certain way ever again! It invites taking full responsibility for your experience, including emotions, thoughts, and actions.

It is possible to show up on our yoga mat and choose not be open. We could even go through the motions of the poses, but be unreceptive to the energy available to us. We could choose to think about what's for dinner; we could watch other people in the room and compare ourselves to them; we could even text someone! This is neither good, nor bad. The point is that we get to choose. This recognition of our inherent, unbounded freedom is, from a Tantric pespective, truly the purpose of yoga.

In our asana practice, opening and softening is not always the most healthy choice for our bodies. For someone with a very open, flexible body, sometimes choosing firmness and steadiness through muscular energy is more balancing and strengthening than adding more organic energy and opening even further. It could even prevent an injury. Likewise, in relationships or life situations, sometimes choosing a firm boundary is more appropriate than opening and yielding.

In every yoga pose, we are offered the possibility of receiving a mudra, an impression. Whether or not we open to it, is up to us. If we choose to receive the imprint, we can carry it with us and offer it to others. For example, in savasana, if we allow ourselves to be deeply imprinted by the peaceful and restorative energy offered by the pose, we can carry it with us when we leave class and even then share it with others.

We also make each pose we practice a mudra, offering out our own unique impression of the asana as only we can do. In fact, we offer mudra with everything we say and do, and even think! Then, in turn, we are offered impressions back. It is a constant dance, an exchange. Everything is connected, but we get to choose what we carry around with us and what we release for transformation.

Mudra is about possibility, freedom, and choice. What stamp, what sacred mark do you wish to offer out to the world? Nobody else can make the same one as you! Just like the lilacs, the birds, even the challenging converstations, your mudra is needed as part of this great design that is the Tantra, the web of life.

Easter, Oestara, Estrogen!

2010-03-29T19:43:00.000-04:00

Easter always falls on the Sunday after the first Full Moon after the Vernal (Spring Equinox). It is a lunar holiday, in remembrance of its origins as a day honoring the goddess of Spring lustiness and fertility, Ostara (also spelled Oestar, and related, as well, to goddesses Astarte and Ishtar).

Ostara ("Goddess of the Shining Dawn") not only lends Her name to this holy day of resurrection, rebirth, and new beginnings, but also to other modern words such as estrogen. Her sacred animal is the hare (who we can see when we look up at the Full Moon's face on Easter Eve) and her sacred symbol is the Egg. She is the essence of regeneration, of birth, of new life, celebrated to this day with egg hunts, chocolate bunnies, and baby chicks.

Moon goddesses show themselves to us in phases, just like the moon itself. Just as that which we perceive as the moon's light is actually a reflection of a small portion of the sun's light, our perception of each individual goddess is actually a sliver of one much larger energy. However, to comprehend that much magnificence and power is overwhelming and therefore we picture each deity as separate and containing particular qualities.

Ostara represents the generative, abundant, fertile, creative parts of ourselves and of the Universe. She is both the dark, nurturing warmth inside the egg and the courage of the baby chick to fiercely peck through its shell into the never-before-seen light! She is both the nourishing soil, rich with compost from last year's growth, and the green sprout which bravely bursts up into the sunlight. She is the baby lamb who emerges bloody from his mother's womb, She is the blood, and She is the sweet milk that he then stands up on wobbly legs to drink.

Spring is not an easy time of year. It can be violent and intense, like any birth. Its beauty is both in its darkness and in its light. The Vernal Equinox, Ostara, is a celebration and an honoring of this balance: the recognition that the seed first must root further down into the dark mystery of soil before it can sprout up towards the light, that without the dark quiet of the eggshell, the bird could never stretch its wings to fly.

Ostara is a boundary marker. She reminds us that the line is thin between birth and death and light and dark are held here in a delicate, sacred balance.

There is much in which to rejoice at this time of year as we embrace the longer days, the crocuses emerging, the spring rains. But contemplate, too, this question: for which of winter's gifts are you grateful? What teachings have you gleaned from the dark time of year that will empower your growth and transformation in this new season of light?

And what are you ready to let go in order to make new space for the possibilities of spring? Give thanks even for these things you are ready to compost, for though the seed abandons its seed coating once it forms its leaves and though the bird does not carry her shell around with her once she can fly, those gifts of darkness served a powerful, transformative, and necessary purpose.

May your Spring be abundant with creativity and new growth. Blessed Ostara, Happy Easter, and may this season of Equinox bring Balance and Joy to your life.

Sap

2010-03-08T22:17:00.000-05:00

It's sugaring season in Vermont.

I love to stand in the steam as it rises from the boiling pan, sweetness permeating every pore, and drink jar-fulls of warm sap until I am sticky and drunk and grinning with the epiphany that Spring is really coming.

The Sanskrit word for "sap" is rasa. Rasa also means "essence" or "flavor," and particularly "sweet flavor." It also can refer to a magical elixir, or even to amrita, the Divine nectar of the Goddess.

The sap is the blood, the life-force, the essence of the trees, and the maple syrup that results from the continuous boiling of the collected sap is a nourishing, mineral and nutrient-rich medicine. This syrup is a highly concentrated form of the tree's life force, and the alchemy that transforms the sap from barely sweet, clear water to thick, dark, heaven is what makes possible the transportation of the trees' gift. That is, through the boiling and evaporation, the amrita becomes something that can easily be carried around, stored, and shared with others.

And so it is with our yoga. We gather the downed wood of winter's storms: our challenges, frustration, sickness, grief, fear... We bring them into the sugar shack (yes, I mean the yoga studio!) and offer them to the fire, the tapas, of our practice. Nothing can be made to disappear, but everything transforms.

Through this voluntary boiling, fueled by that which no longer serves, we distill from the strange and wonderful and difficult and ordinary gifts of every-dayness, a sweetness, a nourishing essence, which can be shared with others. The more refined and potentized this essence becomes through the engagement of yoga, the more powerful a source of healing and joy it becomes, not just for the one who stands in the smoke and steam of the sap house, but for all who taste even one nectar drop.

Spring is coming. The rivers let go their ice and the blood begins to stir again in the bodies of hibernating creatures. Everything is flowing. What downed wood from winter's winds are you willing to offer into the fire of your practice? What sweetness is stored in the every-day experiences you gather? Bring them to the boiling pan of your mat and taste the amrita of your own delicious life! And saprema, with love, share it with all you meet.

excerpt from "To Begin with, the Sweet Grass" by Mary Oliver

2010-02-25T14:22:00.000-05:00

The witchery of living
is my whole conversation
with you, my darlings.
All I can tell you is what I know.

Look, and look again.
This world is not just a little thrill for the eyes.

It's more than bones.
It's more than the delicate wrist with its personal pulse.
It's more than the beating of the single heart.
It's praising.
It's giving until the giving feels like receiving.
You have a life- just imagine that!
You have this day, and maybe another, and maybe
still another.

...Behold, I say- behold
the reliability and the finery and the teachings
of this gritty earth gift.