Two Friends, a Promise and Arbitrary Kindnes

I’m drawn to the odd duck. Maybe it’s because, as much as I’d like to believe the opposite is true, I am one.

My friend Forrest is a bit of an odd duck. An odd duck who squeezes as much life out of every single second of existence as he can. It’s as if he’s trying to live as many lifetimes as possible in this one go-around.

Forrest is a green contractor. And he’s just opened a new store, Inhabiture, which features home furnishings created from re-claimed materials. You can visit his website here. But that’s not why I wanted to write about him.

When he was a kid Forrest and his best friend promised to meet each week to discuss their intentions for the following seven days. How they planned to travel through the world. What they needed to see happen in order to move their lives forward. They didn’t always achieve their goals – life has a way of interrupting even the best of intentions – but they kept their promise and continued to touch base every seven days. They remained accountable to one another. And when one found success, they both celebrated. If one hit a patch of rough, they knew where to find support.

And along the way, they came up with an idea – the People’s Revolution for Arbitrary Kindness. As the small print at the bottom of the flier says, “The People’s Revolution for Arbitrary Kindness is a rag-tag band of folks who want to do good for people in need directly, without trying to convert people to any belief. We are all volunteers and have no overhead expenses.”

For several years they’ve collected clothes and blankets, distributing them to the needy on San Francisco’s streets. This year for the first time, cash donations are being accepted and are tax-deductible. Also, for the first time, People’s Revolution are assembling toiletry kits for distribution.

If you want to donate, or would like to volunteer, here’s what you need to know:

  1. Monetary Donations: $100 can provide more than 15 people in need with a toiletry bag of essential goods. Please make checks out to Woodside/Portola Valley Rotary Foundation and mail to Ian Schmidt at Trimergence, 71 Stevenson Place, Suite 1430, San Francisco, California 94105
  2. Slightly Used Clothes and Blankets: Donations should be delivered by November 2nd to Trimergence in San Francisco or Inhabiture Home, 248 Hamilton Avenue, Palo Alto, California
  3. Your Time: Volunteers are needed to assemble toiletry kits and to distribute clothes and kits at 10:00 AM on Saturday, November 3rd. If you’re interested in volunteering you can email Forrest at forrest@inhabiture.com.

Isn’t it amazing what two friends and a simple promise can bring to the world?

Samyama

 

The term samyama refers to the combined practice of dharana (concentration), dhyana (meditation) and samadhi (union). It is a technique we can utilize to cultivate deeper understanding of the qualities of an object or a person or a concept. It’s said that the yogi who successfully practices samyama will experience the lightness of being freed from the mental constructs – the kleshas – that bind us to the ‘real world’. In other words, samyama liberates us from obstacles, hindrances, troubles and suffering.

Samyama is also the name of the new yoga studio opening in Midtown, Palo Alto in October (just in time for Diwali).

Samyama isn’t your ordinary yoga studio. It’s one man’s vision manifested. To read the history of how Samyama began, click here.

Two months ago John Berg and I met for coffee at Philz – John’s office until the new one is built. The following week he invited me to teach at Samyama. I’ll be joining local yoga master Anirudh Shastri plus Louis Jackson, Annika Williams, Hillary Easom and Bethany Sala. One or two others have yet to be confirmed but the truth is John is keeping the teaching staff small for a reason – he’s not creating a yoga mini-mart with 48 available flavors . He’s creating a yoga home.

And I can’t wait to move in.

 

It’s Possible I’m a Fuddy-Duddy with No Sense of Humor…or Not

I am not the Poster Child for Perfection.  I have laughed at others’ misfortunes.  I have walked past the legless man begging for a bit of change (although, in fairness, today I bought him a chicken salad sandwich).  I have walked a block out of my way to avoid the Greenpeace kids in front of Whole Foods beseeching me to protect the environment.

Perfect? Me?  Not even close.

At times I am thoughtless and sometimes I speak before I’ve considered how my words might sound to another. In other words, I’m human.  I’m no more caring, compassionate or spiritual than my neighbor.  But, like my neighbor, I’m trying.  I’m trying to reflect on how my choices, my words and my actions impact the lives of those they reach.

And that’s why it has occurred to me that we might want to sit back and take a moment to contemplate how we use social media.

A well-intentioned friend who thought I would find it funny first delivered the joke to my inbox about a year ago.  About six months later, a new version of the same bad joke showed up, this time sent by a student.  And then, just a few days ago, a yoga teacher and friend whom I admire decided to post the joke on his Faeebook wall.

And that’s why I wish I’d spoken twelve months earlier.

I guess you’d consider the joke a sight gag.  On one side there are a series of photographs taken of yoga practitioners in various postures looking beautiful and calm and aligned.  These are juxtaposed by stolen images (I say stolen because it’s obvious the subjects did not know they were being photographed) of men who appear to be living rough. They may be drunk or on drugs.  They are all either sleeping or unconscious and their bodies have fallen in a way that mimics the postures being demonstrated by the yogis.  I don’t want to post a link.  If you’re curious Google “drunk yoga”.

My family was touched by alcoholism and drug dependency and maybe that’s why I can’t laugh.  I can’t laugh at something so cruel and heartless.  Something that demonstrates an unbelievable lack of compassion.

Then again, it could be that with all my imperfections I’m also a fuddy-duddy with no sense of humor.

Either way, maybe we should sit back and consider what we pass around on Facebook. How often have we reflexively shared a post, an image or a joke?  Do our posts speak to who we are?  Are they a reflection of how we relate to the world and to one another?  Do they add something to the dialogue or are they cheap shots?

Give a Little

“Therefore, without being attached to the fruits of activities, one should act as a matter of duty, for by working without attachment one attains the Supreme.”

–Bhagavad-Gita, Chapter 3, Text 13

 

 

 

How Do We Live Our Yoga?

In the beginning, most of us are one quick namaste’ from the daily grind.  When class ends we roll up our mat, stack the studio bolsters and on our way out the door hope the parking meter has enough time remaining for a quick run to Starbucks before we head back to work.  There’s no time to embrace the yoga that is more than skin deep.  Forget the philosophy – we’re in it for the workout.  We want a toned body. Yoga Class is Tuesday from nine to ten in the morning. Everything else is life.

With dedicated practice, however, a subtle shift occurs. The edge between our yoga practice and “real” life blurs.  Yoga begins to follow us home.  We move deeper into our practice and yoga becomes a part of who we are.  When we embrace the notion that yoga has not only strengthened our bodies but has also strengthened our spirit then it’s time to ask again:

How do we live our yoga?

Step Off the Mat

In 2007 Seane Corne decided to move her yoga beyond the mat and confines of the studio walls when, along with Hala Khouri and Suzanne Sterling, she founded Off the Mat and Into the World. This inspiring organization embraces the philosophy of seva.  Selfless service.

According to their website Off the Mat’s mission is “to use the power of yoga to inspire conscious, sustainable activism and ignite grassroots social change.” Today, Off the Mat and Into the World has international scope.  It supports humanitarian efforts in Haiti with the Global Seva Challenge.  Off the Mat’s Empowered Youth Initiative believes a commitment to the next generation has a profound impact on social justice and environmental issues.  This year the initiative has programs focused on assisting urban youth in Los Angeles.  They also support community initiatives working for disadvantaged populations.

Think Creatively

One such community initiative is The Art of Yoga Project, located an hour south of San Francisco in leafy Palo Alto, California. Art of Yoga’s mission is “to lead teen girls in the California juvenile justice system toward accountability to self, others and community by providing practical tools to affect behavioral change.”

The Art of Yoga Project improves the lives of disadvantaged and incarcerated young women by nurturing their creativity while encouraging a daily yoga and mindfulness practice.

Transform Your Practice

The practice of yoga is a transformative experience.  But how many of us allow that transformation to move beyond our inner spirit?  What happens when we stop clinging to the yoga experience we love and allow it to touch the lives of those around us?  Supporting others’ lives through yoga will transform your own.  Mary Lynn Fitton, founder of The Art of Yoga Project, knows first hand the profound effect of selfless service. “Since starting The Art of Yoga Project my personal practice has deepened considerably,” she said. “Teaching the principles of yoga to incarcerated teen girls, who have had very difficult life experiences, has called all of us at the project to a higher standard. For example, since we are teaching the girls about satya, we are looking closer at how we’re living in our own truths, watching our speech, avoiding gossip.  Teaching the girls yoga principles keeps them alive and fresh in my mind so I have daily reminders of how I want to be in this world. I am thankful to the girls for that. They are such heroes to me as they shine through their tragic pasts. They inspire me to be ever grateful of my circumstances and to do as much as I can to relieve suffering. 

The Small Gestures Count

Founded in 1978 by Dr. Larry Brilliant in Berkeley, California, The Seva Foundation has restored eyesight to millions of people in Tibet, Nepal, Cambodia, Bangladesh and Africa.  In the process they have reduced the cost of cataract surgery to just $50.00.  As individuals, our small gestures may never match the scope of Off the Mat Into the World or The Art of Yoga Project, but we can still hold in our hearts this simple idea from the Seva Foundation:  To become fully human we must translate our compassion and concern into useful service.

What is useful service?  For most it does not entail forming a non-profit.  Most of us will not have the opportunity to restore sight to the blind or teach yoga to groups of incarcerated young women.  But in our daily lives we can still bear witness to the power of selfless contribution.  Mary Lynn Fitton says,

“I am blessed by this work. I wish everyone could experience the joy, connection and fulfillment that comes to you through being a part of positive social change. And you don’t need to start a non-profit to make a difference; but do take the time to discover what really matters to you and carve out space in your life to contribute to that somehow. Start with having conversations that matter. Then set your intention to serve. The rest will come.”

So how do I want to live my yoga?  In service.  One breath at a time.

This article originally appeared in Yoga Living Magazine.

Heart, Soul and Purple Doc Marten Boots

I prefer to not surround myself with too much stuff.  I hesitate to put down roots and hold the belief that I can pack up and take off at a moment’s notice.  A friend tells me I’m looking for something that I haven’t found.  I’m more inclined to think I suffer from chronic commitment issues and spiritual claustrophobia.

And so I clear my closet of clothes not worn for years.  I purge the shelves of books rarely opened and cull the desk of knick-knacks whose sole purpose for existing is to catch dust.

With the space around me cleared, so somehow is my heart.  Yet what I’ve done is create a fleeting illusion of space that requires tender care.  Only mindful vigilance will prevent a new collection of bits and bobs from building a jumbled barrier that distracts and blocks my path.

It has been one hundred and eighty days since my last hefty donation to Goodwill. Pride in accomplishment allowed my guard to drop.    The space around me has filled. As a consequence, so has my spirit.  It’s time.   Time to plunge into the mess.  Time to choose.  Time to let go.  Again.

The questions I’m asking are simple.  What do I need for my life to have heart and meaning?  How many layers do I have to strip away before I find Truth?

I am beginning to realize that my constant craving to pare back the physical layers is not enough.  Taking away the stuff around me – breaking down the barriers – isn’t enough.  Maybe my friend is right.  Maybe I am looking for something.  But I won’t find it in the space where my purple Doc Marten boots used to be.

Fessin’ Up and Clearing the Decks

My…ahem…tens of readers will know that over the past few months I’ve attempted to take a proactive approach to self-improvement.  Improving one’s ‘Self’ is unique to each individual.  Some folks want to abandon bad habits; others look to be more social.  If you read THIS post or THIS one, you’ll remember that I wanted to let go of my addiction to Hulu.  Having already given my television to Goodwill I had slipped into the bad habit of watching Hulu from bed with the laptop perched on my belly. I hoped the hours formerly spent glued to the boob tube would now be spent reading.  I went so far as to challenge myself to read one book per week.

I also wanted to create a meditation practice.

Now that winter has turned to spring, how am I doing?  Just fine.  Thanks for asking.

It took a bit of negotiation with my psyche and more than a little self-compassion, but I’m doing just fine.

My 21-hours per week television/Hulu addiction is down to about two or three hours per week (unless I’m house sitting – who can ignore a flat screen TV the size of a wall and surround sound???)

Did I read all the books I wanted to read?  No.  But I’m reading.  All the time.  But a little necessity called work prevented me from maintaining the breakneck pace I set for myself.

The meditation practice is blossoming.  Establishing a good habit is a process of repetition.  For several weeks I struggled to remember to practice.  But then the corner was turned and now I miss it when my practice slips.  And it does slip.

Last week was one of those weeks when I fell off the wagon.  Nothing prevented me from enjoying my regular daily mediation except the story I was spinning in my head about being overwhelmed and overworked.  A few days into my lapsed practice a friend turned to me and said, “You haven’t been meditating.”

How could he have noticed?  How could he not have noticed?

I slipped back into regular practice the next day.

We make choices about how we want to live our lives.  We set goals, we plot a course.  We hope.

And then life happens.  Extraordinary, brilliant, tragic, wonderful life.

Sometimes we fall.  Sometimes we need to change course.  But always we pick ourselves back up and head into the wind.  And then we soar.

And that’s how I’m doing.

ps…in my quest to crush my writer’s block I’ve given an old blog a new name:  Your Daily Prompt.  If you’re a writer – even if you’re not – take a look.

The Baffling Case of the Rigid Mimm Day

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I had the day marked on my calendar.  Sunday the 4th of March.  Mimm Day.  My first day of freedom.  No teacher training.  No dog sitting.  No private clients.  I was commitment free for the first time in months.  Come hell or high water I was going to celebrate and it was going to be perfect.

The day I planned included an early morning drive to Santa Cruz with a friend.

After a few hours of Dance Church at the 418 Project we take a leisurely stroll downtown until we find the perfect café where we enjoy a quiet brunch.  A table is waiting for us under the shade of a tree with the sunlight filtered to shield our eyes but not so much that it can’t keep us warm.  My friend reaches down and pulls a book from his grey backpack and with our second cup of tea we take turns reading to one another.  We’re generous with our tip – a compensation for keeping the café table too long. We continue our stroll and find an old record shop around the corner or maybe a shop full of bric-a-brac to bury ourselves in for a bit before making our way to a pristine beach that, miraculously, is empty except for an older couple and their two Golden Retrievers. The sound of the gulls, the crashing waves and the solar warmth of the sand lulls us to sleep just long enough to refresh but not so long as to make us cranky when we wake.

Another bite to eat and then a drive home along Highway 1 with a few stops to enjoy the view of a setting sun as the credits roll…

Mimm Day.  My perfect day.

But on designated Mimm Day I opened my eyes and discovered the alarm clock had never been set and we were already two hours too late to attend Dance Church. I cried like a ten-year-old who had slept through Christmas.  It was only 9:30 but the day, as far as I was concerned, was ruined.  And if I was wrong – if the day wasn’t really ruined – I was still going to nurture my disappointment and bad temper.  I didn’t get what I wanted and I was too swept up into the movie I had written in my head about what Mimm Day was supposed to be that I couldn’t see that the day was still perfect.  It was sunny and warm, it was a gorgeous morning – there was plenty of day left.  And I was still free to do whatever I wanted.

But I couldn’t see it.   I was blind to what I had right in front of me: my best friend, a blue sky and eight more hours of sunlight.

How many times are we guilty of placing emotional importance on an unpredictable future?  How often do we trip over ourselves reaching for paper tigers and ghosts that we can never hold and that never live up to the movies we make in our mind?

I’ve been reading to my students from Sharon Salzberg’s book Lovingkindness:  The Revolutionary Art of Happiness.  She writes:

When we become lost in desire, we are put firmly into the framework of linear time.  We become focused on getting what we do not yet have or on keeping what we do have.  We become oriented toward the future.  To be caught in this concept of linear time brings us to what in Buddhist teachings is called bhava, or becoming, always falling into the next moment.  It is as if before each breath ends, we are leaning forward to grasp at the next breath.

On March 4th I leaned so far forward I fell flat on my face.

Thinking about the future is not a bad thing.  But clinging to an ideal of what I believe the future should be does not allow room for change or perspective.  It leaves no room for living.

And isn’t it time to live a little?

The Buzzy Challenge (or how I plan to conquer my addiction to Hulu)

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It pains me to confess the following:  Until I cancelled my Comcast cable bundle and handed over my television to Goodwill Industries I was guilty of watching, on average, twenty-one hours of television per week.  Three hours each day.  Every day.

What on earth was I doing?  That’s an easy one to answer.  I was anesthetizing myself.

When I emerged from my cathode-ray-tube-induced-coma last September I had every intention of using the extra twenty-one hours I had given myself to write the next great bestseller while training for a marathon in between playing live sets at Angelica’s in Redwood City.

So far none of that has happened.  But it’s not all bad news.  I’ve spent more time nurturing my creative side with the found object assemblage work I love.  I attend a yoga class on an almost regular basis.  I dance more and of course there’s the meditation practice.

But what about the other ten hours?

Unfortunately, I’ve discovered Hulu.

It began innocently enough with a few Jon Stewart clips.  That led to an unquenchable yearning for Jimmy Fallon musical numbers (did you see him and Bruce sing “Whip My Hair”???)  Jimmy, of course, was just one steep and slippery slope away from the latest episodes of Glee and then Parenthood and then Grey’s and now I’m even getting my geek on by watching the ultimate in brain candy – The Big Bang Theory.

I need an intervention.

I need a Buzzy Sherman Challenge.

Buzz and I worked for the Sunnyvale School District as well as the city’s Parks and Recreation Program in the early 1980’s.  Buzz was into self-improvement and since I thought he was the best thing since sliced bread, I was into self-improvement, too.  Buzz was the kind of guy who would take off for four days without telling anyone, ride his bike to Yosemite, return safe and act as if it was a perfectly natural thing to do.

We liked to hand one another challenges. When I began to jog for exercise he challenged me to take my mileage from twenty to thirty miles per week.  In exchange he would ride Highway 9 twice a week.  Another time he offered to read as many books as he could in one month if I became a vegetarian for the month.  Or maybe I had to give up chocolate.  It was so long ago I don’t remember.

They seem a little silly now but I loved our challenges.  I loved competing with myself and I loved being accountable to Buzzy.

But of course he and I lost track of one another decades ago and I traded my hard competitive edge for something more nurturing when I found Yoga.

Still, if it’s a challenge that’s required to keep myself from surfing Hulu (did I mention the birth of Bones’ baby is imminent?) then it’s a challenge I’ll set.

And here it is.

I’m going to take the next six weeks – give or take a few days – to read eight books.  I’ll begin with Kelly McGonigal’s new book The Willpower Instinct:  How Self-Control Works, Why it Matters and What You Can do to Get More of It.  The advice she offers may help me negotiate the next few thousand pages.  After that, and in no particular order, I’m going to read:

 The Gospel According to Zen – First published in 1970 the book is described as “an extraordinarily ecumenical collection of readings in the new consciousness of post-Christian man, with commentaries by Erich Fromm, DT Suzuki, Alan Watts, J. Krishnamurti and others.”

A Gate at the Stairs – A novel by Lorrie Moore.

Haslam’s Valley – A collection of short stories and essays by Gerald Haslam.

Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.  Wasn’t I supposed to read this…um…ten years ago?

The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee.

Patti Smith’s biography about her life with Robert Mapplethorpe Just Kids.

Last but not least, Old Friend from Far Away.  This is Natalie Goldberg’s book on memoir writing.  I was going to read Writing Down the Bones but chose this one instead.

I think I have it all covered – fiction, non-fiction, short story, novel, essay, self-help, biography, philosophy. I’ve already dipped into The Emperor and Bird by Bird but both books have been buried in the pile by my bed for so long I may begin both again from page one and so don’t consider it cheating.

The challenge begins as soon as this is posted and the glass of wine is poured.  Wish me luck.

Negative Space

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I’m captivated by negative space.

The space that isn’t the thing:  the blue between the branches of a bare winter tree, the angles drawn by a box of pencils spilled atop a desk, the shapes that fall between the shadows of a picket fence on a summer sidewalk.  Negative space.  The space that isn’t the thing.  The space that connects.

Sometimes it happens that during our yoga practice the asana becomes a single intention.  A shape to hold in passive static until we decide – or someone decides for us – that it is time to move.

This can happen if we’re practicing a slow flow or lightening quick vinyasa.   The shape becomes the goal.  There’s a rhythm and a reason for our wanting to be there. When I arrive at my full expression of the asana I’m practicing I’ve arrived at someplace familiar.  Someplace balanced.  Home.

But what about the negative space?  What about the space between the shapes our bodies sketch? What about the movements we create as we shift toward trikonasana or sirsasana? And what about the breaths we draw around that movement?  Shouldn’t the journey we take to create the asana be considered, too?

As you practice this week notice the negative space.  Connect with the space that isn’t the thing.

The Care and Feeding of Your Spirit

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If you do anything for yourself this year, let it be that you give yourself just one thing.  I’m not talking about a new car or a pair of shoes.  I don’t mean a night out.

What I mean is this:  give yourself that one thing that feeds your spirit like nothing else can.  And give yourself that gift as often as possible.

If I ask you now, “What is that one thing?  What is the one thing that feeds your spirit?” Do you have an answer?  Do you know?

Back in the 1980’s when I lived in Mountain View a morning walk at Shoreline to watch burrowing owls warming themselves against the rocks as they faced the rising sun warmed me, too.  Those were the days when yoga was a simple asana practice – the days before I understood the depth of yoga.

I walked the path at Shoreline almost every day.  Early in the morning, before anyone else and while remnants of dawn still hung on the water.  But I needed to have a reason for being there or else I wouldn’t make the effort.  Fitness. Weight loss.  Exercise.  There had to be a reason.  A walk at Shoreline was something to tick off my “to do” list for the day.  Another chore.

And then I moved a few miles up the road, my work schedule changed, and walks at Shoreline became less frequent and were finally forgotten.

A few months ago I returned to Shoreline.  This time around it’s different.  I walk at Shoreline a two or three times each week because I walk at Shoreline.  That’s it.  My spirit feels embraced at Shoreline. The flat horizontal lines of the landscape and the calm water soothe me.  I feel nourished.  After a walk along water’s edge I’m ready to walk back into the remainder of my work day.

If you do anything for yourself today find that thing.  Find that one thing that feeds your spirit.