Tag: findyourvibration

Categories
Politics of Well-Being Self-care

As seasons change the natural order emerges

Below the Soil-line

My block has been getting a haircut this week. Chain saws and cherry picker trucks are making their way up and down the block, pruning out branches from gangly trees. Trucks, chain saws, cherry pickers, rakes, and new faces are breaking the quiet calm of the neighborhood. There is nothing like the sound of a chainsaw in the morning to get me up and about.

The changing of the season is reflected in the tree trimming.
The tree trimmer machinery was on the block preparing the trees for winter.

Autumn is the season for this sort of activity. Many trees are best pruned in the cooler weather, and it feels natural to see piles of branches on the ground, waiting for pickup. This is, after all, the time of year when things start to fall down. Apples are being picked, tomatoes are making their last hurrah, and generally mother nature is shedding herself of her fruit. So, the tree trimming seems like a natural extension of seasonal rhythms.

Shifting inward as the season changes

Preparing for winter is a thoughtful affair. I’m looking at a long stretch of pulling closer to myself, with introspection, and quiet, but I find it a little confusing that even though winter feels like a more inward time, I am driven to be more productive and focused on outside work during winter than I do other seasons. I wonder if that is because there seems to be little else to do in our dark, cold winter; or maybe it is the natural order of things. Maybe, as the flora sits buried under the mulch during the cold months, more is going on than meets the eye.

The garden is looking a little tired from all the summer activity. The little prairie on the alley, which flourished this summer, is in full bloom but looking a little faded and worn out. I wonder about what is going on down there beneath the soil line to enable this little miracle to reappear in the spring and flourish throughout the summer, despite the brutal winter conditions to which it is subjected.

The seasonal changes are reflected in the parairie garden
The look of the prairie in the spring is very different at summer’s end. The pink puff balls on the right are native Prairie Onions. In the foreground the Prairie Sage has sprawled majestically. The Milkweed in the background is barely visible in the spring picture. The Pussy Toes, the fuzzy flowers on the left, are barely visible by summers end.

The echinacea, which astonished me this year by pretty much taking over its garden space (after a very sparse year the previous summer), is ready for a break. What happened over the winter that enabled a few lonely echinacea plants to turn into an echinacea jungle?

Ehinacea reflects seasonal changes.
The Ehinacea is pretty worn out come summer’s end.

Finding the natural order

These days the world in general is also looking faded and worn out, as we teeter on the edge of the abyss. I find myself hoping, against hope, that things are happening under the soil line, out of my line of sight, that are creating the conditions for our world to somehow make it through what has been very long winter. What I do know is that under the soil line each microorganism, mineral, and animal has a purpose and a function that contributes to spring regeneration. This understanding motivates me to pay attention to the seasonal changes and prompts me to try to put myself in a position to contribute to the natural order of things.

So now I’m preparing and storing food for the winter and planning my fall cleanses. I’m planning my fall plantings and reviewing schedules for winter activities. I’m setting intentions and making commitments. If I wasn’t blogging, Facebooking, and Instagramming these activities, much of what I’d be doing would be below the soil line but I guess social media has changed all that.

Garlic is harvested and cleaned with change of the season.
Garlic went into the ground last fall, was harvested in mid July, cured, then cleaned and trimmed a few days ago.

The bustle of the tree pruning is slowing and the block looks nice and tidy, is a little bit brighter, and is a lot quieter. The trees look lighter and happier and more sun is penetrating the canopy. They appear ready to do their underground winter work.

I wonder if our world couldn’t use a little pruning. Maybe it’s time to pull out our big inner machinery and clear out the energetic forces that are blocking the sunlight so we can begin the real work of allowing our planet to thrive. And we can only do that if we each do our own work below the soil line. If we do that, then maybe there is hope.

Community Gathering

I will be hosting a monthly gathering at St. Peder’s church, 4600 E 42nd St, Minneapolis, MN 55406 in South Minneapolis’ Longfellow neighborhood. Cost is $25 per session. If you are seeking support for thriving, and fully contributing to our broken world, consider attending. You can learn more at Healing-ground.com/

This cool video captures the essence of how I imagine life below the soil line: full of activity, imagination, curiosity, and enlightenment. Thanks to Dan Rather for locating and publishing this video via FaceBook (@thedanrather).
Categories
Mindfulness Self-care

Variations on a theme from Funk

In A Funk?

I’ve been in a funk the last few weeks.  I don’t know exactly why or what precipitated this state but I’ve felt like I’ve been operating under the radar and feeling out of sorts. I know the news of late has been bleak and the weather has been heavy, thick, cloudy, and hot. All that influenced me, but this “funk” felt deeper than all that.

I’ve lived on this planet long enough to recognize when this is happening. The discipline of meditation and contemplative practices have given me the gift of insight to occasionally look at my situation from a neutral position—like I’m observing as a third party. And on mornings like today, when the air is finally clear, sunny, and bright, my clarity often re-emerges. I find myself looking back at the past but also understanding that the present moment is really all there is.

Living in the moment? Really?

This idea of living in the moment is glibly tossed around by people in my profession, myself included. It has become so buzz-wordy that I find myself using the term yet wondering if I actually understand it. Everybody lives “in the moment”—we have no choice, right? The moment is the moment and when else can we live?

My understanding of the intention behind this idea of living in the present moment is that it requires that we marshal all of our senses and then pay attention to them when we experience them. Don’t I always do that?  Today I’m wondering if the answer to that question is “Maybe not”. Observing my time spent over the last few weeks has given me some insight into this question.  

How I experienced my funk

Things I did during my funk: maintained my daily meditation, devotional, and breathing practices, experimented with water color paints each day, observed that the gold finches are back and they, despite their tiny little squeaky voices, can be gloriously loud.  


The point of playing with watercolors was not to create great art but to play with the medium and see what happened (although I wouldn’t have objected had great art actually emerged). It’s easy to get lost in the moment when playing, and that is a great place to inhabit.

I visited the Hearts of Our People: Native Women Artists show at the MIA for a second time.

I dug in the dirt. I watched the final season of Orange is the New Black, prepared beet salad, prepared cucumber salad, prepared lots of dal, millet, and chard. I began drying my prairie sage in my front porch,

The scent of drying prairie sage is amazing. It is a lemony, lily-like scent, not unlike that of ylang-ylang oil. (The pink is echinacea purpurea)

I celebrated the birth of a new born baby and I grieved the deaths of too many innocents. I circle-sang and I finally listened to a segment of my friend Joe’s new Concert Climat CD.

I finally listened to the first piece of this set. The music has a fresh and spontaneous feel and and is well worth experiencing. I’m not sure how you can purchase it–I don’t see it on Amazon. I purchased it via the Septet’s Kickstarter campaign awhile back.

I bicycled downtown, walked in the neighborhood, had lunch with friends. I celebrated birthdays, watched debates with friends, and ate cake. And, tah dah, for the first time ever, I successfully completed a Tuesday Sudoku!  

Proof of my victory over the Tuesday Sudoku. My friend Ryan taught me how to approach the Sudoku back in February and I worked at the Monday puzzle for months. Finally, I was able to graduate to Tuesday!

Why did it take a funk for me to experience all that?

The sun is shining today and I’m energized, am as optimistic as can be expected, and am feeling cheerful. Observing what transpired during my funk makes me I wonder if what I thought of as a “funk” wasn’t really my body’s way of ordering me to pay attention to all my senses, ignore the endless “shoulds”, trust my body, and to just “be present.”  I’m wondering if, like a snake shedding its skin, I’m slowly shedding my layers of “shoulds,”  and emerging refreshed and recharged. Could it be that I’m just not really accustomed to feeling the moment, to being present?

I am considering that maybe living in the present is a process of continual regeneration rather than just a thing. Maybe we all suffer (or have funks) and maybe variations on funks is the whole point. Maybe we are not supposed to function at peak happiness all the time, and maybe redemption from this suffering is found in the simple act of shedding our “should” skins and living in the moment.  And maybe it’s not the answers that provide the insight, but the questions.

It all sounds lofty and feels profound, but it really isn’t. It’s just life. And today I, and everyone else on the planet, will go on with our day-to-day lives and maybe catch glimpses of the present moment. But, no matter the questions or answers,  I’m passing on the Sudoku until next Monday. I don’t want to push my luck.

References: Variations on Funk

There are a variety of different manifestations of funk available to us. Here are two of my favorites:

Categories
Ayurveda Mindfulness Self-care Social Connection

An Anniversary

Celebrate?

Twenty-eight years ago, this week, I thought I had six months left to live.

I learned the startling news on a grueling hot day, not unlike today. I was told by physicians that I had a serious health condition that was probably terminal and that I’d “be awfully lucky” if it was a different condition (as I suggested to the physician it might be). My most vivid memory of that time is riding the clinic elevator, alone, in semi-hysterical tears, medical records in hand, heading out to have my various body parts scanned and prodded. People in the elevator looked at me, sobbing uncontrollably, like they just wished they weren’t there.  I can’t blame them for that.

A few weeks later, after extensive surgery, I discovered I was, in fact, “awfully lucky.” I wasn’t dead, nor was I intact, but I was alive. I was shaken to my core, but I was alive.

Thinking I was going to die, only to discover that, oops, I was right about the “different condition” and I would live on, was a surreal experience. I felt a combination of terror and relief at the idea that I had diagnosed myself more accurately than had those with years of medical training. Later, as I was struggling with what this all meant, I felt guilty that, after being given a death sentence, I didn’t suddenly have a revelation that all things in life were wonderful, nor was I inclined to run down the street proclaiming “I’m alive”, like in the movies. Despite the kindness of friends and loved ones, all I felt for a long time was alone in a confusing trauma. And, I was pissed-off …all the time.

I was confused, alone, conflicted and pissed.

Recovery from that experience took at least a decade and required a great deal of self-examination and reflection. I ruminated over how I ended up in such a difficult situation. I reviewed my past and I how I had approached my health. As I struggled to feel better, I found little support from the conventional medical system. But I persisted—I felt I had no choice. Over time, several key observations became apparent:

Buck Up!

  • I’d been raised in the “buck up” school of health.
  • This “buck up” attitude taught me to not pay attention to my body, mind, or spirit (whatever that was), and, it taught me to not talk about my health with anyone–these things were private matters.
  • The conventional western approach to health did of good job of eliminating the physical manifestation of my issue, once it was out of control,  but had hindered any chance I may have had of dealing with the situation years earlier, when it was not life threatening.
I’d been raised in the “buck up” school of health.

A difficult journey

Since then, I’ve embarked on a journey of discovery that has taken many wild twists and turns and seen setbacks and advances. When I look around now, I feel like I have ascended from the depths and am living a full, exciting, and happy life.  For this life, I can thank traditional Chinese medicine, conventional western medicine, ayurvedic medicine, energy work, body work, Pilates, yoga, reiki, music, painting, many other practices, friends, colleagues, family, strangers, and my own internal resources for supporting me in this turnaround. 

Ascent from the underworld

I haven’t thought about this anniversary in quite a few years and have never acknowledged it out loud (or in print) before. But like all anniversaries, it deserves to be acknowledged and named. And so, I’ll name it Persephone, in celebration of my descent to the underworld and return to the world of the living.

I’ll name it Persephone, in celebration of my descent to the underworld and return to the world of the living.