"Fletcher" Thanksgiving Prayer

A Word for Our Sponsor

We gather, squished, around this table

With wine and turkey and mashed potato.

The kids squeeze their knees under tables too small

But that’s what we need to fit us all!

We’re thankful each year for our health and our food,

For our jobs and our Mom and our mostly tall brood.

We are grateful for love and for chocolate and pie.

We give thanks for our cats and the sun in the sky.

We are thankful for yoga and berries and shoes.

We’re grateful for gardens and road cleaning crews.

We are grateful for snow blowers, shovels and gloves.

We give thanks every month for the full moon above.

We like to go walking so thanks for fresh air.

We are grateful for rain and for weather that’s fair.

We give thanks for our poodles, retrievers and Sport,

We give thanks for whipped cream and warm apple torte.

We gather around and give thanks for this feast

For veggies and gravy; and last but not least

Our family so dear, so large and so hungry.

Thanks for bounty. Thanks for the plenty.

To Eat or Not to Eat; Is That Really a Question?

Admit it, you’re thinking a lot about food this week.  Turkey, pie, sandwiches, gravy, more pie if you’re fast.  Then cookies and boxed chocolates and Christmas ham and roast beast.  Canapes are next, along with celebratory glasses of champagne!  

Don’t worry, I’m not about to tell you to eat an apple before you head to the Thanksgiving table, or to fill your buffet plate first with salad so there’s not room for much else.  This is my only injunction:  Eat what you want with gratitude.  Gratitude for the chef, for the earth’s bounty, for electricity to run the oven.  Gratitude for the friends around you.  Gratitude for being here in the year 2011.  Pause and let feelings of gratefulness flow all around you like a warm mist.  

Enjoy every bite.  Close your eyes and say thanks.  

I’m a smiler.  I smile at people I’m happy to see, I smile at people I don’t know; it’s my natural reaction to a face.  In grade school I hated being a smiler.  I was shy and thought I smiled through awkwardness. Maybe that’s true, but whether it became a habit or I grew into my innate smiley-ness, I smile with confidence now.  I still get a little embarrassed when someone greets me back with, “Hi, Smiley!”, but mostly smiling brings me good things, like positive relationships with people -- long-term or seconds-long -- and a little glimmer of cheer for myself.  

Your facial expression contributes to your mood, so smile at yourself when you need a boost.  Paying attention to subtle shifts in your mood is a good practice; when you notice yourself drifting toward the blues, you can catch yourself before you get too deep.  Maybe you need a smile; maybe you need lunch!  

Try smiling at that grumpy cashier or bored mail carrier just to see what happens.  Don’t worry if they don’t return your smile; you can be sure they benefited from your warmth even if they are too tired/sad/distracted to smile back.

By the way, I checked into the adage that it takes a certain number of muscles to smile, and a lot more muscles to frown, so we should smile more because it’s easier.  The first part is not true; apparently we use nearly the same number of muscles for either expression.  The conclusion is correct though, so save yourself some effort and smile!

Love,

Smiley

A Little Help from Your Friends*

The fun part about being a yoga teacher is seeing the joy on someone’s face when they “get” something new.  The moment they realize that relaxing their shoulders brings a whole new ease into Warrior II.   The sigh of release when I gently press their lower back in Child’s Pose.  The sense of satisfaction when they understand that it’s not “cheating” to bend the knees in forward bend in order to reach the floor.   For an hour or so I can offer a sense of ease, of power, and of release. 

Some poses seem out of reach at first, especially to those of us over 30 (well yeah, over 50, but who’s counting)!  The thought of a full backbend or headstand seems ridiculously difficult and scary. Or handstand, yikes!  But to get into handstand is to overcome fear and insecurity, and reconnect with power and stability.  Yep, all in one pose.  And you don’t have to fly up there on your own, either; a little help from a friend can make all the difference.

The first time I get someone up in handstand brings a whoosh of accomplishment and glee to both teacher and student.  It is the culmination of preparation and readiness.  The student has stretched and strengthened the shoulders.  She has practiced kicking up and landing softly.  She has an awareness of core strength. She knows that if she doesn’t try it will never happen.  She has learned that if she tries and gets halfway, she has gone farther than yesterday.  We come together at the wall, student and teacher, and with one last kick and a gentle assist, she is airborne and then upside down, viewing the world from a whole new angle.  The angle of strength, courage, persistence, and joy.  

And you thought yoga was just a good stretch.  

Getting a hand into Wheel.

*Another Beatles title, but not on purpose! Funny, I was never a true Beatles fan, but they keep popping up for me lately.

Ups and Downs

I grew up with active siblings, in a neighborhood with lots of kids our age, at a time when parental supervision consisted of:  Be home for dinner and stay away from that horse farmer with the rifle.  I spent a lot of time on the couch, reading,  lured outside only by the thought I might be missing something fun.  Like being chased by the guy with the rifle.  

In those good ol’ days of children’s play toys built with absolutely no regard for safety, we had a Tower in the yard.  You’d climb up the skinny metal ladder to the wooden platform which had a hole in the center.  A nice big, kid-sized hole with a pole dangling down the middle.  We would grab the pole and slide down, swinging around, knocking into the platform with our knees, then waist, then shoulders, to the ground.  

One day a bunch of us were up in the tower, with no regard to  “maximum capacity”.  The kids were taking turns sitting on the side and jumping down. The playset was several years old by then and the vinyl sides had long since been tattered and removed, leaving nice open sides with a little rail around the platform, waist high.    I sat on the edge, feet dangling and hands gripping the rail as the others jumped, climbed back up  and jumped again.  I stared down at the nubbly grass below.  I scooted my butt closer to the edge.  I scooted back to safety.  Writing this I am getting that knot in my tummy that I had that day.  Too scared to jump but wanting to so badly.

The cowbell rang.  Everyone leaped off the tower and ran to their respective homes for dinner.  I steeled myself.  Now or never.  I made the wrong decision and jumped, so scared I was stiff and kept my body in the same sitting position on the way down.  Landed hands first.  Ran to the house crying.  Ace bandages, aspirin.  I don’t remember anyone’s reaction to my folly, but I still remember that feeling in my gut as I sat up in that tower afraid to jump.

So what’s my point? I started this story to illustrate the importance of listening to your gut instincts, your intuition. And maybe the young me should have done so.  To this day I’m still really good at climbing up things, and not so good at getting down.  But if someone is around to let me hold their shoulder or tell me where to put my feet, up I go.  I don’t want to miss out on the view.  And look, I’m still in one piece!   Thanks for the help, guys!

(Carolle helped me down.)