Get my Soul Free

Yep...this is about where I'm at, or more to the point where I'd like to be. I'm way on overload, packed to the hilt and wondering how I'm going to it all done. I've been on overload all year and I'm so wound up It's hard to believe I'll ever come back down to earth. That's part of the puzzle for me. Coming back to a place where I can enjoy a little of what these folks are doing.... relaxation and renewal. I want to let mother earth absorb me in her embrace and just let go, but at the moment there's so much to do and too many deadlines. This week was too filled, too much of a black hole and I'm twirling and swarming around ungrounded. I am thinking of my father, missing him, feeling lost. As a water child it's easy for me to find simile to my emotional states and water. In the beginning it was like wearing weights and walking on the floor of an Olympic size swimming pool, now its a swirling ring in an ocean and I'm in the middle of it just whirling without end. I whirl and whirl and every now and then I realize I'm spinning in a great foam of confusion and reality hits me, but then I whirl some more with papers, meetings, presentations, classes, a car repair, dinner, needs of loved ones, dinner to be made, bills to be paid, spinning, spinning, spinning.

I need to get back to "the farm." Perhaps that's why I have elected to go to Sivananda's Ashram in upstate New York this Summer. Yoga, meditation and contemplation. I need to let my inner soul child, mother earth, cosmic mother unloose and run wild in a field for a little bit. That side of me needs to be allowed to come out, she's been indoors for a little far to long.
Woodstock
I came upon a child of god
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, where are you going
And this he told me
I'm going on down to yasgurs farm
I'm going to join in a rock n roll band
I'm going to camp out on the land
I'm going to try an get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

Then can I walk beside you
I have come here to lose the smog
And I feel to be a cog in something turning
Well maybe it is just the time of year
Or maybe its the time of man
I don't know who l am
But you know life is for learning
We are stardust
We are golden
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

By the time we got to woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration
And I dreamed I saw the bombers
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation
We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devils bargain
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
Joni Mitchell

Remembering to Breath

Ah Yes, It's that time of year again.

Birthday wishes for the complex at heart

Happy 117th Martha, you rock.

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening,

that is translated through you into action,

and because there is only one of you in all time,

this expression is unique.
Martha Graham

May Day at Last!

The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit; for like as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and flourish in May, in likewise every lusty heart that is in any manner a lover, springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth unto all lovers courage, that lusty month of May.

Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte d'Arthur

Yiddish Yoga

Yiddish Yoga by Lisa Grunberger was completely fantastic! Seventy year old Ruthie finds herself a new widow, heartbroken, trying to handle her loss and continue without her husband Harry by her side. Her granddaughter gives her a nice little mitvah, of a years worth of yoga classes. ("I think it will help you grieve, bubby") This is the last thing on the planet Ruthie wants, needs or ever thought of doing. Somewhat guilted into going and not wanting to offend her granddaughter, she dons an old blue and white Addidas velour sweatsuit her husband always thought was a sexy little number and heads out. She lands in Sammy's gentle yoga class and slowly she confronts her grief, comes into the present, out of the past and in between discovers her toes, her abilities and lotus position. A small read it can be finished in one sitting, but you'll want to come back to it again and again. Perfect, just perfect!

Stretch

Stretch by Neal Pollack was an enjoyable read. Pollack stumbles off the couch and into a yoga class at his local gym. Shortly thereafter he and his family relocate from Austin,Texas to L.A. The yoga scene in glitter town is dense with hipsters, the beautiful and the latest fad. He eventually finds the right place to settle in and begins to deepen his explorations, evolving and changing along the way. As a writer he covers yoga journal conferences, yoga festivals and discovers the enlightened and bizarre. Pollack storms out of a jivumukti class in New York, participates in a 24 hour yoga- a -thon and finds himself on retreat in Asia, all while looking for his, "best self". Pollacks "best" made an appearance in his late teens and he would like to reestablish the essence of that person with the adult he has become. The incredibly satisfying experiences the reader is given is the opportunity to view Pollack evolving into someone less cynical and a bit softer. My gut tells me he is probably a genuinely nice guy, but here we understand his longtime public image of a snarky, ironic, jaded representative of his generation has become self toxic. There's somebody else there internally, and he's looking to reconnect with his long lost "best." The reader is given the opportunity to view; slowly, continually and realistically his evolution through his yoga practice, and in the process we see him come to a place more habitable within his own psyche. Stretch is a funny, enjoyable read and we all have a bit of Neal Pollack in all of us, so it's easy to root him on.

Happy Earth Day

So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to thee.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge