Rainer Maria Rilke

Below, what I think of love but could not muster the words for written by my new favorite poet--the love I dream of, the love I want:

"The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky."

"For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been given to us, the ultimate, the final problem and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation."

"I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. "

"You who never arrived in my arms, Beloved, who were lost from the start, I don't even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment. All the immense images in me -- the far-off, deeply-felt landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and un- suspected turns in the path, and those powerful lands that were once pulsing with the life of the gods-- all rise within me to mean you, who forever elude me. You, Beloved, who are all the gardens I have ever gazed at, longing. An open window in a country house-- , and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon,-- you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening... "

"Think... of the world you carry within you."

Only now

Lately, life has passed me so quickly. I can remember how days used to linger and moment-to-moment appreciation was real and something I practiced.

Perhaps it's the crazy schedule I'm keeping but I miss my children, I miss our leisure. I miss curling up with books and games and passing time.

I miss really hearing what they say. This is something I'm actively practicing today--to stop and look them in their eyes and listen. How freakin' hard is that? How busy am I that I can't look at them and hear them?

Through intention that I am cultivating moment-to-moment today, I plan to make the most of this day. First, I'm taking time for me because without a healthy and centered me, there will be no looking in the eyes for them and certainly no hearing them.

I'm reading a book with a cup of chicory--while the rice cooks. Taking the time to actually read the words and find a meaning.

Then it's lunch time--back into mom mode but I'll try to prepare the food without haste and with appreciation that it's here, that we have food to prepare and that I have children to feed.

At some point, yoga must be figured in...perhaps this evening.

But for now, I read, I breathe and think only of the moment I am in.

There's a time for looking forward and there's a time for looking back, but that time is not today. Today, there can be only now.

15 minutes 'til dinner

I am determined to write--something, anything!

Taught yoga this evening. I was teaching at the very school I certified at and, no pressure, my teacher was in class w/a new cohort of students coming through.

Sadly, I had a small class--3 students but 9 w/the teacher trainees. I had hoped to fill the place and impress her but even I have noticed my numbers dwindling in that class. I try not to take it to heart, it is summer after all but the bottom line is, I teach a different brand of yoga than the other teachers of her studio.

Less talking, less alignment language and more encouragement to go inside, stay inside, listen to your body's wisdom, etc.

I was ToTaLLy nervous with her there because I know my style has changed since I left her class--I'm gravitating toward an authentic yogic experience. Not that this particular studio is not authentic, yoga is yoga, right? I just want more, rather, I want different. I want student's to have their own experience--not one I tell them to have.

Ah well.

Got up early to talk to my daughter this morning. I have been able to tell lately that she needs me, she needs me to look her in the eyes and ask about life. I've been busy teaching and making a path for myself that I've cheated the children.

It felt good to talk to her, to really hear her and look her in the eyes.

Need to go check on dinner--it's 8 here and we're just now getting there.

Love,
Me

Passing Time...

I have neglected this blog sorely as of late, which speaks to a neglect of my soul, my self. Writing is my passion and when it falls by the wayside of life, a part of me falls there with it.

The spiritual piece of me has been moderately nourished with the concentration of yoga and yogic studies in my life. I'm practicing on a daily basis--the physical asanas and the practice of mindfulness. Meditation/quiet reflection time is something I usually incorporate into my asana practice--if I sit, I get distracted. I think of bills, the kids outside the room I sit in, the dog, "has she been walked?", dinner plans, "do I have any celery in the crisper?", money, "can I afford to buy that business?" and whatever else comes up in the silence. I need to work on this.

Breath creates space. I read this in "YinSights", a text on Yin Yoga that I'm reading. When I breathe, it certainly creates space, space that is immediately filled with thought.

The physical piece of me is nourished as well through my asana practice and my mental stimulation from the study, so what of my writing? What side of me is that?

It is my heart center. The center of me where passion lives, barely a simmer. And passion is quiet, unobtrusive--she waits her turn. Sometimes, she musters the strength to stand her ground after a lifetime of neglect and oversight and she stares into the eyes of her beholder, who, upon sensing her presence, has a quiet epiphany--a revelation too late in it's revealing. There is no more time and there is a realization of what could have been...if only.

I don't want to have to face her that way, I want for a better connection between myself and passion. I want to heed her presence, to hear her soft whisper and turn when she taps on the shoulder.

As a mother, my life is dictated by taps on my shoulder, calls for my attention, templates for my time.

As a person with an inalienable right to life and all of its living, I have to remind myself of me from time to time. There is obligation there too. More than obligation. It is inherent, it is necessity, it is akin to breathing and a beating heart.

Passion and I sustain one another and the force of that connection and preservation means that we can also be our greatest force of opposition, that which can hinder or even annihilate the other.

I don't want to finally notice her when I have little life left to live. I can't imagine the pain of knowing that I was ultimately my greatest barrier to all that I could've been, all that I could've done.

Toothcare & Plastic Yogurt Tubs?

Intrigued?

As was I.

Lately, I have become a discriminating consumer--really looking close at the companies I buy from and their products, even paying more if I need to for better ethics and practices. I let my dollar speak for me; it's a universal language.

When I was introduced to Recycline, I thought, it's about time because it was only a matter of time.

Recycline is a maker of eco-friendly household items and here are their core principles, taken directly from their website (http://www.recycline.com/):

• Preserve products are made from 100% recycled plastics and 100% post-consumer paper. By using recycled materials, we save energy, preserve natural resources and create an incentive for communities to recycle.

• All of our plastic products are recyclable, either through our postage-paid labels and mailers (toothbrushes and razor handles) or at the curb in communities that recycle #5 plastic.

• We make our products in the USA, so that we can ship them shorter distances, using less fuel and limiting our environmental footprint.

• We don’t test on animals. Period.

• Preserve products are made to last – and to look good doing it.

Recycline makes razors, toothbrushes, flavored toothpicks, tableware, food storage, cutting boards and a few other household/kitchenware items.

I tried the toothbrush which was, thanks to the forward thinking of Recycline, made from recycled yogurt cups, some of which are from Stonyfield Farms yogurt, and better than that, Recycline includes a postage paid mailer for the consumer to return the toothbrush for recycling when it reaches it's life capacity--AT NO CHARGE TO THE CONSUMER.

Check out the bristles cleaning my pearly whites lately:

http://www.recycline.com/toothbrush.html

Target is selling them for $2.04 and Recycline has coupons on their website for several of their products.

What impressed me the most is that I didn't have to sacrifice a quality toothbrush for my eco-mania, I was able to have both. Better still? The toothbrush comes in a handy travel case--no wasted paperboard or plastic casing for this brush and the case gets recycled right along with the brush to be born again into plastic lumber for picnic tables, boardwalks and decks.

Dare I say, I'm smitten?

To say the least...

as I've made a habit of doing here, my life has been busy. I have had NO time to myself and when I have managed to squelch some out, I waste it or veg from utter exhaustion.

I have become a working mom--well, I've always worked, that's what we moms do but as of late, I work a lot more outside of the house for pay. I'm teaching yoga 6 days a week and still on call as a rape advocate 1 day and 1 night a week.

I have no choice but to have this schedule of mine so racked full of paid labor--student loans are due this month. I have extended for as long as I can, no more extensions allowed in my future--it is time.

Why I have them at all is another story for another time but the sound bite is this: stay-at-home mother finds herself without the husband she once depended on, the one who vowed to stay and provide and nurture, and she returns to school for an education and access to loans enabling her to be the presence she always planned and wanted to be in her dear children's lives.

The shitter is this, if I don't pay my student loans, I will have everything in my life seized and every dollar in my future garnished. He doesn't pay child support for children he fathered and no one notices but me.

The government gets a lot of free rides from us moms--this is just one more freakin' turn on the Ferris Wheel as I see it.

Coming back from that little rant, that has clearly been sitting at the surface needing voice, I have enjoyed several weeks of relative financial freedom. Well, it's more like a vacation because when on vacation, you go away and eventually return. We've had some spurts of unexpected money that has cushioned us and in between the cushions we come right back to where we always reside--shit broke.

I have enjoyed picking up dinner here and there instead of cooking, buying a cup of coffee a few mornings a week throwing caution to the wind, stocking up on bulk items from our local Corporate-Co and paying bills that might typically be ranked in order of importance. The ride is almost over.

We have one more stimulus check coming but because of other expenses, most necessary and some frivolous, that check is paying our mortgage this month. It is spoken for and the tight reigns of my financial life pull me back in check.

It will be alright--if I look at my life from the outside in, I see these patterns. The ups followed by downs followed by ups followed by downs. The certainty is there, this certainty that I long for, this assurance or "knowing"--it has been and will forever be there all the time. When I am up, I am sure to come down yet when I am down, I am sure to come up.

The trick is finding peace in those variations, those fluctuations of spirit, mood and situation.

In yoga, I tell my students to ride the breath--when in poses that challenge your mind and your body, ride the breath, notice the breath and how it creates the subtle changes of alignment, how it focuses the mind.

So I breathe...and live.

I have always been (and still am) the person who likes hitting rock bottom in Monopoly or any other board game with colorful money involved. Every time I play I'm okay with financially sinking and in retrospect I see that I enjoy the creativity sparked from necessity. My senses heighten and my mind clears and necessity dictates my actions.

My best papers were always written the night before and my best actions come forth when the chips are down.

I am a creative soul and money, it's presence or absence in my life, will not be my demise because in pouring my heart, soul and labor into my children their entire lives, I figure, I am well into a sweet little IRA.

Mommy wants an apartment in NY with a rooftop garden plot and a monthly allowance enough to sustain me in-between your visits.

Love,
Mom