lessons

From yoga and from life.
Tonight's yoga class was particularly powerful. Both in the sense of how I felt and in the message I feel like I received.
As soon as we got to our mats, Dean asked us to acknowledge the lessons that we've had thus far in life. Our successes. Our failures. The good and the bad. All of those things that make us who we are and that, as Dean said, bring us one step closer to "home" - whatever "home" means to us. To me, it means being authentically who I am. It means having the courage to be that person. Wherever I am. With whomever I am with. It sounds so simple. But I find a way to make it messy. I get scared. I fear judgement. I fear rejection. I fear not measuring up. But I'm working on that. And articulating it. And trying to be bolder and less fearful in my life - in relationships, at work, in the promises I make to myself, in general. It's hard for me, I'm not going to lie. But it's good work. It's that work that just feels like it's right in your heart. Which is sort of a funny statement to make because I feel that about 99% of what I do...odd that this should be the last place that I tackle with that intention and purpose and authenticity.
I don't mean to suggest I've been a farce for all of my life! I just think that I'm more willing to listen to some areas of my heart that I conveniently tuned out. And I think I'm more confident in my own resilience to be able to open my heart in new ways. I think...we'll see. I know that I'm willing to give it a try.
And sort of like in yoga two weeks ago when I did a headstand thinking, "the worst I can do is fall over", I figure that here in this lesson, the worst that can happen is that it can be hard or I can get hurt or I can decide it's not for me. And in all of that, the lessons learned will have been worth it. I can't think of a single lesson in my life that hasn't been.
Dean also opened and closed the class with U2's MLK. WOW. How have I missed this in my life? As someone wrote, "it's still the perfect lullaby." I love the lyrics: "Sleep, sleep tonight...and may your dreams be realized. If the thundercloud passes rain, so let it rain, rain down...so let it be." So peaceful. So comforting. So powerful a reminder that our dreams may be realized and that we are just to let things be. I leave you with this for a Sunday night...sweet dreams.

friday quotation

Another tea bag inspiration...

Your head must bow to your heart.

Something for me to remember when my brain tries to lead the way... It never feels quite right that way.

I do love...

...daylight savings time. The extra hour of sleep on Sunday morning. The extra touch of daylight earlier in the morning. But most of all, I love the fact that it gets darker earlier. I am beckoned away from my desk by the dimming of the streetlamps that suggest that I should be at home rather than at work. I am energized to creep into a warm yoga room on a cool night. I know that others hate the fact that it gets dark earlier. But to me it represents cozy homes and the time to be in them. A slower pace and the time to enjoy it. Winter nights with a fire and some hot tea or cocoa and a reason to indulge in both of those things. Simple pleasures, yes. All in the turning back of a clock...

...35..36..37..38!!

I am overwhelmed with thoughts and things to write about today. I've been showered with birthday love in the form of phone calls, emails, text messages, cards, flowers, edible bouquets, gatherings with friends, and other sweet sentiments (oh, yes, and a birthday serenade from the tuba section of the UT marching band! Hilarious!). And as I round the bend to another year, my thoughts are delightfully cluttered with reflections on the past few years. I remember when turning 35 felt like a big deal. Now I can hardly remember it! 36 felt good, if for no other reason, because I like 3s and that year was 3 + 2x3. 37 was a charmed year because it's the reverse of the year in which I was born '73. And after 3s, 7s are my next favorite number. And now, 38. Which in some ways seems like a more complete number...if you look at it, 8 is literally a completion of the mirror image of a 3. And there's something delightful about that. As if it's symbolic of growing into the other half of myself. (And, it's tempting to jump ahead to 39 in my mind which will be 3 + 3x3...how exciting for someone who loves 3s!!! But I will wait because it is a whole year away...) Yes, that is how a not-very-numbers-oriented gal looks at the numbers behind her age. Not as a sign of being older (although that does happen from time to time) but as each number representing something. And what's fun over the year is that those representations keep multiplying with things I would have never known to look for in a number.
But, of course, the year is about more than the number...or the proverbial candles on the cake. It's about the moments that make up that year. Which is actually something I talked about when I delivered the faculty speech at graduation a few years ago (I was so honored). I talked about how too often we live life waiting for "the next big thing" but that really the sweetness of life is made up of all of the little moments in between. So it made me laugh this morning when I read, in one of the devotional/journal books that I read each day, the passage for November 6 (as if it's a personal message to me but also as if it's my message to the world):
"Value Each Moment: How often we wait for those grand moments of revelation, those intense times that blast us into transformation, those turning points that forever change us and our lives. Those are the dramatic moments we write about, see in movies, and long for in our lives. Yes, they are wonderful. But turning points such as those happen only a couple of times in a movie and a few times in a lifetime. Each moment of each day in our lives is a valuable turning point - an important part of our spiritual growth, an important scene in the movie of our lives. Each feeling is important: boredom, fear, hate, love, despair, excitement. Each action we take has value: an act of love, an act of healing. Each word we speak, each word we hear, each scene we allow ourselves to see, and each scenario we participate in changes us." (Journey to the Heart)
I think that perhaps birthdays can be turning points, but I need to remember that each day, each moment can be a turning point if I choose to make it so. And not a turning point that needs/includes fireworks but a turning point within myself. A dedication to being the best me that I can be. Not to expecting monumental changes but to taking advantage of the small ones and valuing those. Cherishing those. That is what the year ahead is for. (And sleep and courage and speaking my truth and asking for help and, and, and...) And that is actually what my entire day was comprised of. My typical celebration of life and health in some active way - this year that took the form of a 5K race at 1:50 a.m. so that we were running "back in time" (this is where the UT tuba folks come into play) followed by some sleep and then a 90-minute yoga class with my favorite teacher...on to Whole Foods for my favorite coffee and a little shopping...and then time at home (very precious these days) to do laundry, cook, read, catch up with friends and family on the phone...and the day ended sweetly with dinner with a wonderful group of friends. Nothing dramatic (well, except for that crazy 5K!) but all together a string of wonderful, meaningful moments. Oh, and the added bonus of an extra hour added to the day AND rain for Austin - hooray!
As for being me, well, I love this "15-second reading" by Paulo Coehlo:
Tomatoes and Melons
If tomatoes wanted to be melons,
they would look completely ridiculous.

I am always amazed
that so many people are concerned
with wanting to be what they are not;
what’s the point of making yourself look ridiculous?

You don’t always have to pretend to be strong,
there’s no need to prove all the time that everything is going well,
you shouldn’t be concerned about what other people are thinking,
cry if you need to,

it’s good to cry out all your tears (because only then will you be able to smile again).

So if I'm crying at some point over the next year (which I'm sure I will!), I'm just making way for more smiles. And if I'm stopping to "smell the roses" it is just because I'm living in the moment. Which, as our yoga teacher reminded us this morning, makes us amazingly free.
Off to bed I go with a full and humble heart. And in this moment, that is just where I'm supposed to be.

where I'm from

It seems that I come from many places...and times...and people. Or at least it often feels that way to me. So many different chapters of my life. So many roads I have explored. So many attitudes that I have tried on. So many people who have come in and out of my life. And so many who have stayed. And yet there seems to be a perpetual backdrop to this all - school. Thus it seems fitting that I should write a post that I've been meaning to write for a long time. One that I was going to be titled "my two sweet schools" but that now has another title. I've actually been to more than two schools in my lifetime, but there are two that stand out to me above the rest - the one that helped the adolescent me grow up and leave home (Castilleja) and the one that helped the young adult me grow up and make a home (St. Andrew's).
I think I've always known how lucky I was to get to go to Castilleja. To have caring, concerned, passionate teachers. To be surrounded by people who (in general!) wanted to learn and who supported one another. To be in a place where we were encouraged to be our very best selves. And I know that 90% of what I do at St. Andrew's is a reflection of the goodness that was shown to me at Castilleja. The two places are so similar in so many ways that it is sort of a no-brainer that I work where I do. I guess in a way it's like I "came home" to Castilleja by working at St. Andrew's.
And just recently this point was driven home.
One of our seniors lost his mom to cancer about a month ago. And one of my Castilleja classmates lost her mom (who was also one of our teachers) to cancer about a month ago. So in both the Castilleja chapel and the St. Andrew's chapel, two memorial services were held to honor these women. And I sat in one chapel. And my mom sat in the other. Of course, I was at the service at St. Andrew's. I had known this young man's mom and had written her notes throughout her illness and was actually emailing with her just days before she passed away. But that my mom would want to go to Mrs. Barker's funeral, 20 years after I had graduated from Castilleja, was really touching to me. I didn't ask her to go. She simply said she was going.
Around St. Andrew's, so very often we talk about the sense of community and how it's like a family and how there really can't be any other school community like it. And I gladly join in that conversation, but I usually have to interject that there is actually (at least) one other school community like it - Castilleja. How lucky I am to have been part of both communities.
When I think about "where I'm from", yes, I'm technically "from" New Orleans and then California. And I'm from my mom and dad and Gran. But day-in and day-out growing up and then being a grown-up, I'm from the circle of Castilleja and the chapel of St. Andrew's, I'm from my teachers at Castilleja and my friends and colleagues at St. Andrew's, I'm from my friends at Castilleja and my students at St. Andrew's, I'm from the families at Castilleja and the families at St. Andrew's.
So when I look to my quotation from yesterday, "If you don't love where you come from, you can't love where you are going", I can proudly say...I love where I come from and also where I've come to.

friday quotation

If you don't love where you come from, you can't love where you are going.

From a Yogi Tea bag. Love these teas. As much for the taste as for the little sayings that are attached to each bag. Perfect Energy - Vanilla Spice was just what I needed before yoga yesterday. The words attached to it were just what I needed as I look toward a new year beginning this weekend. It's so tempting, so easy for me to look at the past and be critical of myself or my situation or the work that I did or the relationships I was in, or, or, or... I need to remember to offer myself a dose of compassion and kindness and love who I was even when I felt (and might have been) the most unloveable or unproductive or unengaged because it's all part of me. And I can't appreciate where I'm going if I can't love where I've been or who I was when I was there. Onward toward that new place of love. Hope you find your place, too. Maybe you're already there?

11.1.11

Lots of ones.
That seems to be a theme in my life these days.
"One" from A Chorus Line, the St. Andrew's musical this year. Songs and words from it are still ringing in my head. This is a good thing. There are so many powerful messages in that show. So many poignant questions. So many good lessons.
Next up: "One Step Closer to You" from Dean's yoga class on Sunday. I loved the emphasis on everything starting with one step. One chance to begin again. One movement forward. And forward to what or whom? Another person? Yourself? Either. Both. It was such a good reminder to me that every project, journey, relationship evolves one milestone, step, memory at a time. Few things that hold any meaning in my life came together all at once. They are more like beautiful puzzles that were put together one piece at a time. Silly me. I sometimes expect my current life to follow a different pattern. Why in the world would it? Why in the world would I want it to?
And then today in yoga, "One" performed by U2 and Mary J. Blige. At the end of another class taught by Dean. With an emphasis on the date - 11.1.11 - the 12-year anniversary of Yoga Vida. There was some amazingly good energy in the room tonight. The sort of energy that made you feel powerful and courageous and humble and grateful all at the same time. Perhaps it was the mix of teachers and students. Perhaps it was all of us acknowledging Yoga Vida's birthday and giving thanks for the place and the people. Perhaps it was the beginning of the month and the promise that always holds for me.
I think for me it was some combination of relief that November 1 had come and gone and along with it all of those pesky EA/ED deadlines that I'd fretted over for the last weeks...the energy that a new month brings to me with all sorts of hope for a new beginning...the beauty of the day and the gratitude that fall is finally here...the relief of having shared my plans for college counseling next year with the college counselors (and having gotten their full support) and the odd sense of empowerment that has come from asking for help - once the guilt started to melt away.
Guess it's a bigger day for me than I realized.
Good thing I'm getting a little older in a few days...I might need an extra hint of wisdom to be able to manage all of this.
Oh, and I did a headstand tonight.
On my own.
Without a wall.
And I held it for a few moments.
And then I fell over.
I'm not sure what moved me to do it. But it seemed like a good thing to do at the start of a new month. Besides, what was the worst thing that could happen? I could fall. And I did. And I'm still alive to tell the story. And I actually feel a HUGE sense of accomplishment. Both about the headstand AND about the fall. (It helps that I didn't take anyone down with me in the fall. It was actually rather graceful - I rolled forward like I'm pretty sure we used to do in gymnastics.)
Pretty big start to the 11th month of the year. Pretty excited to see what else it holds.