Heart Full

It’s funny the things you don’t notice are missing from your practice (and by extension life) until someone points it out. And when they do, it’s that “ah-hah” moment when a million new possibilities flash in your mind all at once. The missing ingredient was ritual. I had disdained ritual in my 20s primarily because it reminded me of somber catholic ceremonies which I only participated in under duress. As I got older, I’ve become more spiritual and no longer actively avoid ceremony. But I still don’t incorporate much ritual in my life. My food is eaten without thanks,  special dates like anniversaries approach without notice and then at the last minute are haphazardly celebrated. In fact not only do I NOT notice / incorporate any ritual in my life, I actually don’t like many of the ones I have to participate in, like birthdays, bridal showers, and other “Hallmark Holidays”. It always seems like the drama outweighs any benefits. But then, as our teacher pointed out life ends up just passing you by without any punctuation of meaningful moments.

She encouraged us to create rituals in our lives. To build the alter. To learn the deities and be inspired by them. To celebrate ourselves, because we are GODDESSES. To remember that time passes, events happen, and we should take a moment to acknowledge those transformations. Even better she dressed up our third eyes, a small act that made everyone visibly brighten, even my husband remarked that it was “neat“.  While I’m not ready to call myself a goddess just yet — (though i did float the title to my boss just to test the waters), I think there are small things I can do to add rites back in my life.  First, I explored my neighborhood and found inspirations of divinity.  I saw that at the local church there was an advertisement for an upcoming exhibit, it read:

* I AM , the bread of life

* I AM, the light of the world

* I AM, the gate

* I AM, the good shepard

* I AM, the resurrection and the life

* I AM, the way, the truth, and the life

* I AM, the true vine.

And I couldn’t help but notice that this was very much like the mantra, SoHum. — I AM that. Lovely.

Aparigraha – non-covetousness, letting go of our worldly possessions and learning to live on what we need rather than what we want. No other yama (or niyama) has resonated so deeply with me. It seems appropriate for the season spring cleaning, or if you’re like me “early summer cleaning”. For many years of my life I learned the ways of the pack rat. How to pack everything so optimally you can stuff in 2x as much cruft as the container was designed for. My whole family did it, it fell on me like human nature. Until that is, the stuff became overwhelming. But instead of getting rid of stuff I made BFFs with the container store, organize it, and the mecca of my cheap OCD soul, Ikea. But it was work, it was so much work it may as well have been a second career, and one that I daresay I’d be darn good at.

But my stuff was over taking my life. I looked at apartments and wondered about the closet space — rather than the light, air,fixtures and how the place made me FEEL. Instead I wondered if it had enough space for all my stuff. Then about 7 years ago for the first time I got rid of all the stuff I hadn’t worn in a year. And it was liberating. It was propelled by my incoming move, but nonetheless it was liberating. Since then, I’ve tried to maintain a yearly ritual of getting rid of stuff I hadn’t used in a year . OK a year and a half maybe.  I’ve also been discovering that as I practice aparigraha more, the other yamas and niyamas fall into place. Santosha follows my sense of liberation, and saucha in my mentality (and rooms) by having less “stuff” to attract clutter and dust.

So after all the effort to free myself from my possession the irony is not lost on me — that I loved shopping at the Brooklyn Flea to buy other people’s old stuff. I tried to limit it to stuff I’d be giving away (aka “gifts”) but I saw a couple inspirational items that no doubt I’ll have to come up with ways to replicate, or .. buy it and bring their old stuff to my new stuff. But that’s OK — none of it is wasted, and perhaps I can breathe new life to their possessions just as someone perhaps is breathing new life to mine.

Joe Mangrum is a nyc artist. You might find him (as we did) one spring afternoon in Union Square, on all fours squinting at his work, occasionally adjusting his cowboy hat. He’s not particularly friendly, but then it’s not his personality that draws you, it’s what he’s painting (with sand), and it’s astonishing. Part mandala, part hieroglyphic, and all art. I asked him what it was if it wasn’t “some kind of mandala” as I was inclined to see it. He refused categorization, his artwork inherits from a wide base, everything from science and DNA strings, to philosophy and his own imagination. Whatever it is he’s usually there from 11am to well into the evening, sand painting. And by sand painting I mean he has bags of colored sand, that he dips into by the bare fistful and expertly sprinkles across the pavement. He works quickly but even still by 6pm he’s still on his hands and knees. I can’t imagine what this is doing to his body, I suspect though that some heart openers would do a world of good.

His artwork does me a world of good. It’s inspiring just to see him conjure the images from his mind and without any hesitation translate his vision to cold concrete. It’s unexpected bits of beauty like this that make me happy to be a yogini in NYC.

When I first started yoga — about 3 years ago, I fell in love instantly. I loved how I felt afterwards, the challenging poses,the bite size spirituality, and the joy of an expansive ohm. But slowly, it occurred to me that there was an undisclosed subculture to yoga. A culture very much aligned to eco-friendly greenness. It made sense — being mindful of our environment is a natural partnership for yoga, it embodies the very ideas of ahimsa, doing no harm. I quickly noticed that I was mindlessly consuming water bottles. I often bought a small bottle before a rigorous class, and always a very large bottle for hot yoga. I started feeling guilty about this practice, it really didn’t take much effort to switch to a bottle — I would just have to be less lazy about remembering to bring it. I noticed how everyone seemed to have a Sigg water bottle, it was clearly the brand of choice (at the time). And no wonder it’s so playfully cute compared to it’s then competitors (kleen kanteen).But at ~$25 it was pretty pricey, and my yoga was expensive enough — so I opted to just go thirsty or drink from the water fountain after class. Then I hit verifiable gold, a cute $10 water bottle that matched my Koi Mat. A red Koi Gaiam water bottle on sale at Barnes and Noble for $10. How could I not buy it?
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