The Big Picture

I recently attended a yoga workshop. We were there to learn ways to relieve stress from our physical bodies as a way to keep fit and healthy. The teacher led us through some poses and spoke about self-compassion and healthy eating. Then she proudly held aloft a liter bottle of brand name water. “And, I drink at least four of these every day. See, I brought two along with me in case it was warm in here and I needed more than one.” Half of the group smiled smugly as their disposable water bottles stood proudly by their mats; the rest of them nodded sagely, reminding themselves to stock up next time they were at Costco. Leaving the yoga studio two hours later, I noted that the trashcan outside the door was filled to overflowing with disposable water bottles.

Taking a narrow focus, laying aside the global concern in favor of a personal one. Hydrating the body while filling the landscape with plastic. We need to remind ourselves of the Big Picture. We need to remember that our personal health depends greatly - perhaps even solely - on the health of our planet.

And so ends my unsolicited commercial for refillable water bottles and filtered water pitchers.

Turn on the Light

It snowed again last night. No surprise, in this winter with snowfall after snowfall. But still, when it is coming down, it is beautiful.

White Ash in Sunlight

I brought the dog out for his last hurrah of the evening, and he trotted into the fluffy, clean white stuff. His paws left tracks in a circle around my car, then over the little mountain at the end of the driveway created from shoveling the last heavy, wet snowfall.  I watched from the porch, wrapped in a blanket, feeling the heavy wetness of the flakes as they settled on my hair. I looked out to my beautiful, old white ash tree lit only by the ambient light from the reflection of the town's lights on the low clouds. A bright night, wet and cold. Then Sport turned and walked toward the back yard, setting off the motion sensor and turning on the light. Suddenly the scene changed. My vision was filled with sparkling dashes of precipitation. Grayness was gone, light reigned. Dashes of light falling to earth, and I couldn't help but laugh with joy. It was beautiful. It was shiny. It was revealed. 

The same moment, lit up. The same snow that, in darkness was just wet and cold, with illumination was transformed into beauty and joy.

Eventually, I called the dog and we went back inside to watch snowboarding Olympians. 

My light is on.

I Know Why

We've had a cold winter here in New Jersey. I heard on the news this morning that many of us in the tri-state area will see our heating bills double this season. But aside from getting good use of all my beautiful scarves, this chilly weather has given me insight on one of my favorite childhood poems:

Halfway down the stairs
is a stair
where i sit.
there isn't any
other stair
quite like
it.
i'm not at the bottom,
i'm not at the top;
so this is the stair
where
I always
stop.

Original poem and wonderful illustration here.

I notice that when going up my own staircase, there is a step, halfway up, that is warmer than the stair above it or the one below it. It's like swimming through a warm spot in a pond, oooo, warm! Ohh cold! I think that was the spot Christopher Robin chose on his own staircase.

I spent a year in England, living in an old (built 1300's) building that came with the modern convenience of a plug-in heater that accepted 10p pieces for a half hour of dubious warmth. I'm thinking Christopher Robin's house was drafty and poorly heated, too, and he, like most children and animals, found the coziest spot to rest.

. . . all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!

(With thanks to A.A .Milne and E.H. Shephard. Now I will go get my Pooh Poems and reminisce a bit.)