When I take the chilly tools
from the shed’s darkness, I come
out to a world made new
by heat and light.
The snake basks and dozes
on a large flat stone.
It reared and scolded me
for raking too close to its hole.
Like a mad red brain
the involute rhubarb leaf
thinks its way up
Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so gentle as real strength-
“Slow down, you move too fast … Life, I love you, All is groovy.“
Can you recall the last time you were in love, with life? Noticing the subtle – yet profound flowers blossoming from the dormant grass below ?
During lunch with a close friend this past Friday, I struggled to put into words this exact thought: When was the last time you fell in love with life. All of us have become multitasking savants, hastily doing no fewer than three things at once. Making breakfast while texting about the NCAA tournament and updating a post we have been working on for a few weeks. Our minds are literally filled to capacity, overflowing with “things“. When does the Sun rise tomorrow? The Sun does rise – right? Why does Windows take so long to boot? What’s the forecast for this weekend? Am I out of shape? I look bloated! What if I perform poorly in yoga class, my next 5k? This latte is too much, are they stealing my debit card information? Will it snow tomorrow? I need to book an appointment to have my nails did – done – whatever? What time is it, do I have time to workout/run/swim?
Time is flat, circular and restrictive. We continually arrive back at the same point, with a gadget of some sort close by.
Can you recall the last time you went for a leisurely walk after dinner? The “garden of life” variety of walk that didn’t involve a pedometer, taking a selfie or tweeting to the masses the calories you burned, and all the “other” information we vitally need to live.
If you can name the song and artist that set the gentle tone for the post today,without using your Google Machine – You win a prize or something! All, truly is groovy!!!
If you are lucky enough to be in Omaha tomorrow morning, and want to do some yoga and cycling – check out the festivities at Swanson Park … Have a beautiful weekend Dear Reader(s) – Take care and be well!
Oh wild and gentle beast,
Immense antlered shape,
This morning in the meadow!
Like something ancient, lost
And found now, promise kept,
Emerging from the shadow,
Emerging while I slept—
Wilderness and escape!
You set me free to shirk
The day’s demanding work
And cast my guilt away.
You make a truant of me
This moose-enchanted day
When all I can is see,
When all I am is this
Astonishment and bliss.
With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts-
I love practicing yoga, alone, mid ride in an open field or a hidden park off the trail. I love the way these quiet moments make me feel spiritually, mentally and physically. I love returning to my breath after a spirited sprint, the practice of mindfulness after being harassed in traffic. I love improvising poses outside of a yoga studio – Getting creative and inventing new poses like: Sore Back/Hips 1 and 2, old man standing on one leg pose, picking ear wax pose, happy cyclist pose … many poses, all of them good, even when they become challenging …
There is this one intricate pose though that I just can’t get seem to get my spirit around, metaphorically and my heart around, literally. That pose is called Tadasana. Tadasana is infinitely easy if you your mind likes to wander hither and yon, like mine does. Tadasana is extremely difficult for me to surrender to during a mid ride yoga session, and extremely embarrassing to watch if you’re looking at me from the swings.
Being the forgetful* dude that I am. I avoided Tadasana, altogether, or I would fleeting pass through it – swiftly moving into old dude bending over in a park early one morning pose.
Suddenly I remember a few words a dear friend recently shared with me: Return to you – Return to your breath.
We become stronger, more confident, when we not only face the difficult “things” in our lives, but embrace them.
As unmasculine as this may sound, Tadasana has become my best cycling buddy, well second to riding with my Son.