With a Dream in My Heart

Sit under the blue moon

Washed by its light

Entranced by its glow

Sit under the blue moon

Peeking through branches

Dancing through clouds

Sit under the blue moon

Open to its glory

Revel in its coolness

Sit under the blue moon

Say farewell to August

Whisper good night

Sit under the blue moon

Close your eyes

Sleep.

P.S. This is the 100th post on the Om Minute! Thanks for visiting; please forward to your friends, "Like" on Facebook or any of those other places, or Follow by Email. See you next week,

Jeannette

Breathe

It’s the mainstay of yoga, the thing that makes yoga different from a stretching session or Pilates. It is the core of yoga. It is breath.

I must say a variation of “inhale, exhale” fifty times while teaching a yoga class. I watch carefully during challenging poses to make sure the breath is flowing in my students. “Are you breathing?” often brings a chuckle and murmurs of, "Oh yeah, breathe". As the breath returns so does the ease and comfort and confidence, and the difficult pose can be held another beat.

Yogic breathing, or Pranayama, can be useful off the mat as well, I assure my students. We practice different forms of breathwork that can calm the body’s nervous system and keep our stress levels down.

And there I sat the other week, in a stressful situation, with my shallow breath. My lungs filled lightly, air moving no further than my sternum then puffing out in a quick burst. When I finally noticed this, I sternly told myself to deepen that breath, to fill my own lungs. But I rebelled. This was a comfortable place for me. It seemed a quiet space with just me and my shallow breath and my nervous tummy. I actually had to force myself to sit up straight and draw a deep breath, hold it for a count or two, then release it fully. Repeat, I commanded. And I did. After about three of these full rounds of breath my tummy settled a bit and my head felt more clear and light.  It was a better place to be.

So, lesson learned. Even after years of practicing, hearing, and teaching that yogic breath is helpful in stressful situations, I still had to consciously remind my self to go there. Maybe if my life was loaded with heart-quickening events my body would learn to go there automatically, but happily, times of true, extended periods of stress are fairly rare. So I need to remind myself. And I did, and it worked!

Nourishment Redux

We speak of nourishment and think, chicken soup, kale, quinoa. Nourishment from food is only one part of the equation, though. We must also heed the call from within that asks for a different type of nourishment. Do you need music, words, the rush of the wind in your hair as you run? Does your mind call out for solitude, for society, for excitement or for peace? Are you prickly today, perhaps in need of some healing touch? Take a moment to ask your heart, mind, and energy systems what treat would be enjoyed today. If you’re lucky, it will be something different and nourishing every day.

You may need to force yourself to put on those running shoes or yoga pants, but experience has taught you that your body runs better when it runs, stretches, jumps. If you are going through a time of sadness or changes, your heart may inform you of its need to rest, and you will find nourishment in lying down under a tree or listening to beautiful music. Your energy system knows if it wants lots of space to expand or if it needs to be stimulated, and you will seek solitude, or a massage, or a crowd of friendly faces.

When things get scrambled take a pause and listen. Your breath or your heartbeat or the song in your soul will tell you what you need.  (And yes, this is my sneaky way to get you to meditate!)

Nourishment

Do you do Paleo? Gluten-free? Vegetarian, vegan, flexetarian . . . flummoxed?

I remember our neighbor Mrs. E being on Weight Watchers when I was a kid. She weighed her canned salmon and cottage cheese on the most cunning little scale, which I coveted. Then came the day, some fifteen or so years later, when I purchased my own little scale bearing the WW logo. Not so cunning any more.

We scramble to feed ourselves in a way that keeps us slim. But healthy? I’m not so sure. Low fat doesn’t serve our need for supple skin and joints. No sugar keeps us from satisfying that innate desire for sweetness. Michael Pollan says, “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” We all know this intellectually; now we need to digest it intuitively. We need to to eat for nourishment*, and consider comfort food to be something that makes us feel good emotionally AND physically. (Yeah, I love meatloaf and mashed potatoes too, but if a meal makes you need a nap, it’s time to rethink the menu!)

Like biting your fingernails or always putting your right sock and shoe on before turning to the left foot, food is habit. We think we want the “treat” but afterward find it didn’t satisfy. Maybe it’s because our habitual treats are not what we truly want.

Watermelon, anyone?

*Nourishment – from the OmMinute Dictionary:  n. 1. that which feeds your body, mind, soul, spirit for the highest good of your whole self. 2. something delicious that tastes as good in your mouth as it later feels in your body. 3. a thing that makes you joyful, content, filled and energetic.

Get Om Minute posts as soon as they are published! Simply type in your email address in the box on the upper right that says "Follow by Email", click submit, and you will never miss a posting! -JH

Lightening Strikes

I’m having trouble with this week’s Om Minute. It has been a week of buffeting – like the electricity from all these thunderstorms is affecting people and events surrounding me and it’s hard to know where to look next. And it’s hard not to just run under the bed with the dog and wait it out. Yes, I am thinking of the tragedy in Colorado, as well as tragedies big and small happening to people I know and love. I get the feeling I am the eye in the storm and crazy things are spinning around me.

That’s not to say I think I’m the center of things, but that these events are not hitting my person or immediate family; and I want to say, “I hope it stays that way” but then I feel selfish/guilty – you have been on that merry-go-round, right?

The saying goes, Into each life a little rain must fall, but when it is happening to you, it doesn’t feel like a little rain; it feels like a deluge. Everyone, at one time or other, goes through periods like this, where the world around becomes less stable than we’d like. Eventually, the storm passes and we return to peace.

I just heard Marianne Williamson say today that when we look up and think, The skies are gray, that is not the truth, but the perception, because the grayness is just a veil, and beyond the clouds lies the blue sky. I am going to look up and think of that bright blue vastness behind these clouds, and I hope you will too.

Next week, I promise to be funny!!  (Yikes, now the pressure’s on . . .)

Changes

Growing up, my family consisted of a mom, a dad, five sisters, and finally, from out of the blue, a brother. The appearance of this dark-haired kid was a thrill to me. I always loved the little ones! And the fact that he was a male, plopped into the laps of five little girls, made things even more interesting.

My brother Jonathan came on the scene when I was around 8 or 9. He now hovers around six and a half feet, altitudinally, and he was never small; but I carried him around on my hip until his feet nearly dragged on the ground.

The very novelty of having a boy around has given me vivid memories of him. Like in my Catholic grade school, we had Hamburger Day every few months. Mom was the Hamburger Lady, and she’d bring my brother Jon to the school along with the boxes of burgers and orange drinks. She’d send him to my classroom and we’d eat our squishy burgers squeezed into my desk chair. He was my living, breathing show-and-tell.

I also remember sitting on the bottom bunk in our red, white and blue bedroom and teaching him to tie his shoes.  I don’t think that was successful, probably because I was overenthusiastic and he was only three years old and not the most dexterous kind in the house. And I remember a car trip when he was getting over the chicken pox; in the days before seatbelts, he would lay himself across our laps and have his sisters take turns counting his chicken pox scabs.  I think it distracted him from the itch.

My most vivid memory is one from which I believe he still carries a scar – I dropped a little dish full of melted sugar on his bare foot.  For heaven’s sake, who ever thought a cotton candy machine was a good idea for a kid? I still cringe at the memory, at the same time remembering the awe I felt for how very very widely he could open his mouth to cry.

With four sisters, the appearance of a little brother was a novelty.  I’m sure I could come up with a list of memories for each sister as well, but it’s possible I’d mix up who was where, and when. They all looked alike. And they couldn’t get their mouths around a doorknob.

Personal to Jon:  I swear, I wrote this up on Thursday, well before our Jon-centric family conversation on Sunday!!

Good Health Can Drive You Nuts!

“If I did everything “they” say I need to do to be healthy,

I wouldn’t have time to go to work!”

While we roll mats and organize blocks after a class, my students and I often talk about health issues and concerns, and share tidbits we’ve gleaned from our reading and internet browsing.  This week we talked about green drinks, and how, in order to indulge in this nutritional powerhouse, one needs not only a Vitamix blender ($330 to $650 on their website), but the time and energy to get to the farmer’s market or organic food store often enough to keep fresh ingredients on hand. A worthy goal? Perhaps, but one that comes with time and money constraints.

Here’s another topic:  It seems that taking daily vitamin supplements is seen in the same vein as believing in God in the trenches – Do it, just in case!

An article in Time Magazine recently listed colonoscopies as unnecessary and old-fashioned; yet last summer Time also printed a story by Dr. Oz about how his own 50-year old colonoscopy probably saved his life. Hmmmm.

And hormones for menopause, well, bring that up in a huddle of women and be prepared to hear as many adamant opinions as there are huddlers. “I use all-natural supplements. They work. Sort of.” “Anything’s better than the symptoms.” “I would never play around with my body’s natural state.” “Gimme the drugs, I need to sleep!”

I will stop here; the list could go on and on. So what’s a health-conscious person to do? 

It’s simple: Do your best.