Naked Yoga

I’ve been doing something a bit unconventional and I’m very smitten: naked yoga. Though I’ve practiced for almost 15 years, it’s never been like this before.

Yoga classes in L.A. can be less about the asanas and more about checking out who looks the youngest, the most anorexic and who has the latest $120 stretchy pants. It’s distracting, annoying and costs $22 a class to boot. Of course not all classes are like this, but still…

I started to get curious about exploring – on my own – the point of why I do yoga in the first place: to actually be Union with my body and experience the miracle of this ‘container’ that holds my soul and allows me to travel the beauty of this earth.

I leave my mat out the night before so that it’s ready for me when I roll out of bed. I leave the curtains closed so that it feels private, while still allowing lots of natural light to flood the high ceilings of my bedroom. The birds are chirping at 6:30am and I feel safe and warm.

I’m not doing any particular sequence of poses or holding them for any particular length of time. Of course I have my favorites: down dog, warrior two (and three), triangle, crow, pigeon. I’m not looking at the clock, I’m just moving as it feels natural. Two minutes, ten minutes, a half hour; the amount of time isn’t the point.

As I’m doing all of this – alone in my birthday suit – something amazing has happened that is quite the opposite of what I expected: I seriously am in LOVE with my body. Not because I’m judging it from the outside, but because in this quiet, private, raw moment, I’m completely amazed at the perfection of this ‘vessel.’ Not airbrushed magazine, 17-year-old model perfection: God’s perfection. Or evolution. Or whatever your beliefs are about how we got here.

The fact that (for most of us) we wake up and have this soft, strong, warm, healthy body that is completely functioning and operating on its own is a small miracle. The heart beats without us asking. Our legs take us wherever we ask them to go. Our eyes work to see the beauty of the world. Our nose works to smell the roses. Our ears work to hear the birds chirping in the early morning.

All of this ‘work’ happens without us even asking – we are so lucky! And yet most of the time, as women, we ‘hate’ our bodies and obsess over all of their imperfections. It’s tragic, really.

And from a more superficial, aesthetic perspective, doing naked yoga has actually made me love my body even more. This really surprised me. Rather then getting neurotic over a fold here or a stretch mark there, in that quiet, safe place, I can just be with my body Exactly As It Is. There is no judgment here, only full acceptance. Acceptance of things I ‘like’ and think look ‘good’ and acceptance of things I might ‘change.’

But then I stopped myself and asked the question: do I really even need to change this perceived imperfection? Why?

No, my body doesn’t look like an airbrushed, spray tanned teenage model in a magazine, but I’m not her, I’m ME. A 37-year-old mom who has a body that has given life, fed my son, helped others, planted gardens, written poems and felt immense pleasure. Why on earth would I ever want to change that!

I’m stepping into my Full Power, and it feels amazing. Redefining what it means to be a True Woman and enjoying the miracle of this body that was given to me the day my mom conceived me inside of hers. One day I’ll have to give it back to the Great Mother, but until then, I’m going to enjoy it and give it respect, each and every moment, whether it’s naked on my yoga mat or fully clothed out in the world.

painting by Antoine Calbet

Inner Garden Oasis

I don’t know if it’s the heady scent of the newly planted Jasmine, or the fumes coming off the recently painted benches, but something takes hold the moment I enter the little secret schoolyard garden. We’ve transformed something. We’ve taken love, hard work, a few free seeds and some donated soil, and have created a little oasis for ourselves.

It’s absolutely delightful. And it’s more than the sum of its parts.

There is a magic to it that’s hard to pin down. And I’d never want to. Quite the opposite – rather than limiting it with words or some logical explanation, I want it to just keep growing and growing.

And it does. And it is.

It’s the email I got two days ago from an elementary school friend I knew 30 years ago who’d read on my blog about my work at the school garden. She asked for my mailing address just so she could send some seeds from Northern California as a donation to our garden efforts. In a small but very sweet way, she wanted to be a part of what we’re doing. It’s the mom who approached me yesterday asking when our spring garden party is going to be because she wants to make homemade baklava (how could she know baklava is my all-time favorite dessert?). It’s the fact that I’ve been looking for a garden table for months, and just yesterday discovered one sitting behind a school bungalow that’s been there all along. And it’s the dad who helped me move it into the garden yesterday who, as it turns out, doesn’t even have a kid at that school, but was just passing by to look at the garden.

Something is happening. And it’s not just in the garden. The right people are coming in at the right time. I’m sensing things. And I’m fully trusting it more and more.

Last night I uncharacteristically called a friend at 10pm, who, as it turns out was in the middle of writing me an email because she wanted to talk to me but didn’t want to call too late. We spoke for two hours. It’s the feeling last week that I needed a break from cooking weekly dinners for my parents, only to get a text ten minutes later from my mom: “I made you a three course dinner so you don’t have to cook, can Dad and I bring it over tonight?”

There is practice to this. And trust. The practice of asserting less and allowing more. This goes against what we are taught: to destroy and conquer. To pursue. To overpower. I’m realizing that when you get in alignment with what you want and where you are going, you can just relax into just be-ing and enjoy what comes up.

There is patience and a willingness to sit with some discomfort of not knowing. Also being willing to be with an energy that has a Presence, but hasn’t yet taken a physical form. But it’s well worth it. And in ways, it’s even more enjoyable, because there is no limit to it. It’s union with the Divine.

And you end up cultivating and living within an inner garden that is even more beautiful than the heart achingly gorgeous flowers and plants that greet each day, sun shining inside and out.

Fruits & Flowers

There is something so heart achingly gorgeous to waking before sunrise and seeing the miracle of another cycle of life take place right before your eyes. As I make coffee or tea – or both – I watch the ebony sky turn sapphire and then turquoise and then swirl itself with streaks of coral and mother of pearl. The birds are chirping (sometimes I swear I hear owls), and the budding light starts to dance on the celadon and moss green-colored plants, trees and vines that vie for my attention.

All of this is the backdrop to an overflowing table of abundant beauty that is my ‘canvas’ as I begin my day. To this writer/gardener/poet/cook there is simply nothing like a still life of fruits and flowers. As steam dances from my teacup, I contemplate the rainbow of colors and textures laid out before me. I think of the farmers who patiently planted; the pickers who took the fruit from the tree; the sun and rain that went into it; and the fact that I not only get to visually enjoy all of this beauty, but I get to feed my body with it as well.

Life overflowing.

I’ve been romancing myself a lot lately. I don’t mean like that. I mean taking the time with myself to do the little things that I’m realizing make a big difference. Slowing down. Writing long-hand in my journal twice, not just once a day. Getting lots of rest. Hiking. Savoring beauty. Setting out bowls of fruit on the table like paint on a palette. Not just cramming them into the back of the fridge.

None of these things cost any money. The price is simply valuing oneself and making the time to do that which pleases you. Not waiting for anyone to give you that which you can only give yourself. When it sit in my dining room in the early morning I’m transported to some magical old world in Paris or Tuscany…maybe even Casablanca or on an island somewhere that nobody has heard of.

It’s ecstasy, and each day is a new opportunity to travel somewhere new, letting my heart guide me on this gorgeous journey.

Where are you travelling to today?

La Abeja

The year is winding down, and I am grateful. Love, loss, immense joy, tear your heart open beauty…2012 did not disappoint!

I often think of my friend, the bee lady, who passed eight years ago, and who is still a central symbol in my life – a muse – for love, kindness, support, optimism and joy. I think of her whenever I see anything bee related.

Bees symbolize pursuing your dreams, no matter how impossible they seem and enjoying the sweetness of life (honey) after hard work. Certain cultures saw bees as both symbolic of the soul and messengers of the gods (and between worlds). The ancient Egyptians placed jars of honey in their burial tombs for sweetness in the afterlife.

I for one want to create, share and enjoy as much sweetness as possible in this life.

Yesterday on Christmas, when all was closed and the streets of Los Angeles were blissfully empty, I made my way through a new neighborhood to a new friend’s house for tea – she’s also a bee lover. I almost missed it, but there was La Abeja on a nondescript city street on the way to my destination.

There are sweet messages – and messengers – everywhere, you just have to be open to receive them. For me, yesterday, La Abeja was there to remind me of that: to keep moving forward, to keep creating and pursing that which makes my heart sing, in my own quiet, personal way. “Messages” don’t have to hit you over the head, they can be(e) simple, gentle reminders that you are held in love, headed in the right direction and to keep moving forward because there’s a new flower and sweetness just around the corner….

Oranges & Oaks are My Sweet Spot

Solstice, Citrus, Seeds and Spontaneity…..

Well, we made it. December 21, 2012. The shift has been happening for all of us for quite some time, but this year in particular was quite an odyssey.

I am so grateful to be here.

This morning, as near-blinding light streams through the windows of my home, and I sit with warm coffee and a cozy sweater, my heart feels happy and alive. I’m still glowing from a spontaneous visit to Santa Barbara a couple of days ago where we visited a sweet friend’s home, picked citrus from her grove and collected acorns from her 300+ year old oak trees.

Oranges and Oaks are my sweet spot.

My son and I woke up Wednesday and spontaneously decided to visit a u-pick farm in Somis, CA. We drove all the way out to find that nothing was ready except for a few hungry goats nudging us for carrots!

Not a problem. We blew out of Somis and headed north to my friend’s house where her trees were very ready. The drive on the 118 from Somis up to Santa Barbara is pretty much heaven. Farms, old houses, mountains, citrus, clear blue sky. It’s the Old California that is timeless and so heart achingly gorgeous. Postcard country.

I don’t know what it is about orange trees, but they seem to have some magical power over me. The vibrant colors, the heady scent of the blossoms, the sound of the bees hovering, the delicious juice…even the tang of the bittersweet peel that you can turn into marmalade!

And then the oaks…don’t even get me started. Majestic, regal, powerful. My son, friend and I collected hundreds of acorns. I thought of the Native Americans who used those seeds for nourishment. I wondered what the land looked like hundreds of years ago before it was a ‘city’ when the tribes lived there and honored and respected all of nature’s power, beauty and abundance. Not unlike we did that afternoon.

My friend sent us off with overflowing bags full of fruit and acorns, and happy hearts. The Native Americans did not embrace the concept of ‘ownership’ of the land. We inherit it from our parents and borrow it from our children. We are its keepers. Imagine if we thought of the entire earth – and each other – in this way.

So, rather than ‘wishing’ my friend’s home was my home, I simply opened to and filled up with the beauty of the experience, the moment. When you seek the ‘essence’ of what you want, you don’t need ownership…it just comes. Let it come to you!

For me that was a gorgeous California day spent with people I love – and who love me – inspired and nurtured by nature’s never-ending gifts and abundance.

Back in L.A., my home is brimming with bowls of acorns and a citrus centerpiece. To this garden lady, they look like treasure chests filled with jewels. Beauty is cultivated on the inside, but being surrounded by gifts from the garden is a treasure indeed!

Garden Trinity

Perhaps what I love most about working in a garden or on a farm is that it forces you to keep moving forward. Yes, there is fruit and flowers and beauty to be enjoyed, contemplated and consumed. But not for long. Because as soon as something has come to fruition, it’s time to move on and plan for what’s next. It’s time to keep moving forward.

This is easier for some of us than others. Though I consider myself to be an optimist – always looking to the future with promise – I sometimes have difficulty letting go of what was.

You cannot do this in a garden.

Like it or not, a garden forces (invites) you to be with what is, plan for what will be, let go of what was…and simply be okay with all the factors that are out of your control. Spent buds are dead. Old fruit is rotten. Simultaneously, flowers in bloom are magnificent works of art – but still fragile and temporal. And the seeds in your hand will one day bear fruit…but there’s a lot of work to be done between this moment and that harvest. Past, present and future all converge in a garden. Like a trinity. This is not theoretical, just look outside your window – it’s all happening right now.

Which is exactly as it is in ‘real life,’ too. Old experiences must be lovingly composted, or else there’s just a pile of rotting fruit on your kitchen counter, festering, attracting flies. Seeds must be planted, and patience and perseverance must be practiced, even for those of us who want to know all the answers now (that would be me). For some of us, the blooming buds are hardest to embrace, because they require a slowing down to simply be, to enjoy, to open to abundance. The flowers ask us to receive the gifts life has offered, even the ones that are hard to see at first, which might be disguised as “something we don’t like.” Something we don’t like is often exactly what we need to be healthy or to grow. Nature makes sure of this. Nature takes care of us.

The garden reminds me of that basic wisdom we forget in our addiction to ‘achievement’: it never really is the destination, it’s the journey. The seed, the bud, the bloom…and back into the soil. There’s no end to it. And it’s been this way since the beginning.

It’s the same cycle with life experiences, and even with these bodies of ours. Nothing is really ‘ours’ to keep. It’s borrowed. Even this flesh is borrowed. We have to give it back. Everything that we perceive as ‘ours’ is really just an experience to be enjoyed in this moment. Relationships evolve, bank accounts fluctuate, living situations change…just like a garden.

We keep re-birthing ourselves in this lifetime until it’s time to give ourselves back to wherever we came from, whether that’s some other realm, or ‘just’ back into the soil. Some moments we take more, other times we give more, but in the end, hopefully our lives have been our own authentic garden. A magical place to first feed ourselves…and then others…with LOVE.

I keep learning…

In Favor of Do-Overs

Do you remember do-overs? Back when you were a little kid, and you’d say something that was a little off or maybe do something that wasn’t the nicest, you’d yell out: “DO-OVER!!” And most likely your friends would let you back up time for about ten seconds and re-do whatever it was that needed mending or amending.

I’m a huge fan of this, and my son and I apply this easy remedy whenever needed. Mostly it’s just minor infractions (he’s 7, so the ‘offenses’ are not too extreme). If I’m exhausted and hungry and I’m a little short with him, I ask if I can have a do-over. He always says yes. I offer the same courtesy to him. If he’s a little rude or ‘cheeky,’ he’ll ask if he can have a do-over. I always say yes.

I feel this is a clear but gentle way to communicate that something wasn’t ‘okay’ but that it is okay to make a mistake, so long as you acknowledge and correct it. The correcting it part is, of course, the point because I’m certainly not advocating that repeated miss-behavior should be brushed off – or permitted.

You can apply the do-over method to whatever you like. I can even be major life stuff, though I don’t say this with a casual attitude. Life changes take care, patience and grace. And I don’t recommend do-overs for things that are unhelpful or people who are manipulative, selfish or repeatedly hurtful. In the words of my dad, those kinds of people “can take a long walk off a short pier.”

But do-overs can be applied to a myriad of life situations. You name it. They even take place in the garden, where, at my kid’s school, we planted a massive bed of beautiful cutting flowers three weeks ago…that…died. Yes. Every last little starter faded in the scorching late September heat wave. Last Friday, when the kids arrived for Garden Club, they were shocked to see the raised bed empty, where just a week before there had been beautiful flowers.

Time for a do-over.

And also time for a lesson to the kids that you do your best, and that sometimes, things don’t happen the way you thought they would, and that’s okay, too. You move on, you adapt, you make something new. So, since we didn’t have any more flower starters, I went in the greenhouse and found a ton of winter crop seeds.

Perfect.

The kids had a ball making rows in the soil and planting red chard, winter kale and broccoli seeds. We even marveled at how interesting and varied the seeds looked. One kid looked at the broccoli seed I’d placed in her hand and shouted “it looks like a flower; we are re-doing the flowers that died.”

She got it.

It all works out in the end. And in a couple months (if all goes as ‘planned’) we’ll be harvesting and eating our efforts. A happy do-over indeed.

When Life Gives You Flowers…

Gardening, like life, is all about improvisation. It’s about being quick on your toes and having an arsenal of things at the ready. I am reminded of this over and over as I lead the weekly Garden Club at my kid’s school.

You have a plan of how things are going to go, and then (of course!) it often doesn’t happen that way. I remind myself that when things don’t go as ‘expected,’ to stay open to perhaps something even better taking place. And more times than not…both in and out of the garden…it does.

In an unexpected way, I am grateful for the unexpected, because it creates the opportunity to cultivate more strength, more resourcefulness and more confidence in one’s ability to make the best of any situation. There is often a gift in even the most unpleasant package. I’m sure many of us have found this to be true.

Yesterday things finally cooled down in the garden, which was a boon. However, since we’d done so much planting and harvesting last week, in truth, there wasn’t a whole lot to do.

But, we do have a few random flowering plants – a Mandevilla vine, a mass of Black Eyed Susans and a few Violas and Marigolds that made it through the heat – as well as some old scissors and plastic containers. What do to?

Make posies.

So that’s what we did. We made something from nothing. Something out of necessity, but which turned out to be quite a lovely experience. Each kid got a pair of scissors, a little container and was allowed to let loose and pick whatever flowers they wanted. It was adorable to see the color combinations that came together, and also to watch the usually rambunctious boys become entranced with the process of cutting and arranging the tiny blooms.

This has been quite a year, with much internal weeding and blooming, and I’m grateful to find peace, calm and resourcefulness, yet again, in the garden.

Sunset & Salad

As I loosen the reigns on my need to know the ‘deeper’ meaning of all things all the time, I’m finding much more pleasure here on planet earth.

What a concept.

I’ve made a new friend, which is always a treat. She’s been taking me for evening hikes up in the canyon and I’ve been making her healthy food. It’s a happy exchange.

There is simply nothing like putting one foot in front of the other up a beautiful mountain, Hollywood sign in the background, pink sky overhead, L.A. lights putting on a show.

Finished off with a fresh salad, it’s a beautiful, delicious and healthy way to spend a couple of hours. And I’ve never slept better.

Sometimes I forget that it’s in the most basic things – done beautifully and with gratitude – where the real magic occurs. A free hike in the canyon, a simple organic salad made with love, good company – I’m a happy lady.

What simple pleasures give you joy?

Arturo

For some of us, we are not content to simply be content.

We are in a near constant state of having to know, pushing further, needing to understand and touching some place beyond the physical world. We regularly question why we are here, if we are fulfilling our ‘purpose,’ and if we are making a ‘difference’ on the grand scale in which we perceive true Life exists.

But the reality is that too much ‘seeking’ can be a slippery slope.

Because living with this constant questioning can be both a blessing (because it expands you well beyond your limits) and a curse (because answers only come in bits and pieces, and I don’t think we are actually meant to fully understand it all until it’s all over – darn).

Enter Arturo…

I was at very busy outdoor shopping center here in Los Angeles this morning. People get a little nuts here in L.A. when it comes to Monday morning and parking lots and getting coffee. This parking area is small to begin with and to boot, half the lot was closed off for re-paving. It was a shit storm waiting to happen.

And then there was Arturo.

Dressed in crisp khakis and a pressed white button-down dress shirt, he was poised and ready to handle the near chaotic parking situation with grace, ease and a smile. I watched his compact form move through every potential parking catastrophe with efficiency and confidence. He got me and my SUV into a narrow space – no problem. He got the lost tour bus through – no problem. He even got the slow as molasses old lady in the oversized white Cadillac into her space – no problem.

And when I arrived back at my car an hour later, he helped me reverse with a few clear and directed flicks of his wrist – like a conductor at the L.A. Phil, but with no fame, notoriety or applause. He even told me to go out a different exit – it would be faster for me. I said thank you with a smile, and he politely smiled back and gave me a thumbs up and a wave.

Something came over me with this experience.

Arturo is making people’s lives easier, better and more peaceful. Even for just 30 seconds, but he’s still doing it. And, I could be totally wrong, but I don’t think he’s standing there contemplating his ‘role in the cosmos.’ He’s just taking care of business one car at a time. He’s making a difference. Maybe he’s not ‘curing cancer’ as they say, but he is making people’s live better, smoother and less stressed out. I think that has immense value, whether you work at some fancy job, or ‘just’ as a parking lot attendant.

Yes, sometimes us ‘seekers’ seek too big. We forget that Life happens here on earth, in small manageable bits, in ways we can understand. It happens at the Farmers’ Market at Third and Fairfax on a Monday morning in a crazy parking lot, with a kind and confident ‘guide’ such as Arturo who will likely never know I wrote about him, and who I will likely never see again.

But Arturo made an impression on me and reminded me that in my pursuit of ‘the big picture’ I forget that sometimes what we need more than anything else – in a particular moment – is a smile, a thumbs up and kind stranger keeping things calm in an otherwise crazy L.A. parking lot. We just need a moment of grace and kindness in our day.

Thanks Arturo.