: Eh :

Canada is not the party. Its the apartment above the party-

Everything in our lives ebbs and flows at its own natural speed; when rushed, unpleasant “things” tend to happen. Personal change is most effective when it occurs slowly, allowing our behavior(s) to become automatic, and part of who we truly are.

Daily Meditation:

The rigors of daily life are like a stirred-up lake during a busy mid-week holiday: Allow the wake to calm and the mud will settle, clearing the water, our minds, our hearts.  Happy Canada-Land Day!!!

Cultfit Canada

 

 


Postcards

At first I sent you a postcard
From every city I went to.
Grüsse aus Bath, aus Birmingham,
Aus Rotterdam, aus Tel Aviv.
Mit Liebe. Cards from you arrived
In English, with many commas.
Hope, you’re fine and still alive,
Says one from Hong Kong. By that time
We weren’t writing quite as often.

Now we’re nearly nine years away
From the lake and the blue mountains,
And the room with the balcony,
But the heat and light of those days
Can reach this far from time to time.
Your latest was from Senegal,
Mine from Helsinki. I don’t know
If we’ll meet again. Be happy.
If you hear this, send a postcard.

 Wendy Cope

CultFit Postcard


a song with no end

when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”

I know what he
meant
I know what he
wanted:

to be completely alive every moment
in spite of the inevitable.

we can’t cheat death but we can make it
work so hard
that when it does take
us

it will have known a victory just as
perfect as
ours.

– Charles Bukowski

CultFit Alive

 


: Biking :

Biking is about rhythm and flow. It’s the wind in you face and the challenge of hammering up along a hill. It’s the reward at the top and the thrill of a high-speed descent. Biking lets you come alive in both body and spirit. After awhile the bike disappears beneath you and you feel as if you’re suspended in midair-

Flipping through some old photo albums while spring cleaning our spare bedroom – yes digital aged kids, photo albums! I stumbled upon a picture of myself thirteen years ago. In the background is my beloved mountain bike, a Cannondale “F” something or another, the same bike I ride while walking our beagle after dinner. Looking at the picture I recall that frustrating, exhilarating process that is learning to enjoy riding after suffering though a series of injuries. I needed a lot of help back then and still do to this very day. Sprinkle in a ton of support and patience from others to get me to this point in life – Close family and friends, caring but rigid doctors, rehab therapist, yoga teachers, open-minded “folks” who listened to my quibbles – All helped me walk ride a path towards “whatever” I suppose.

A bright cloudless summer day in Upstate New York; my patient father watching me taking my first solo ride on my battle torn BMX bike, as I wobbled and bobbled right, then left, trying to find that savory spot of – Balance.

I was deathly afraid of falling on the asphalt hill in front of our house. So I would try riding into the grass when I started to lose my balance. It would hurt less if I fell in the lush green grass, right? Shortly after an early morning shower, I got my seven year old legs pumping away as fast as I could coming down from the top of the hill. Rain splatter streaming from the front tire onto the down tube as I picked up speed, as I neared the intersection at the bottom of the slick hill, the handle bars started to shake, and I lost control trying to make it over and through the inviting lawn to my right. I promptly keeled over and slid along the greasy asphalt for what seemed like an eternity and smacked hard into the raised curb, completely missing the grass. Crying with road rash down the left side of my body, bleeding knees and elbows I limped to sit on the curb to gather myself.

A few days later I was pedaling my bike in varying circles at the top of this very same hill. Suddenly, a moment of unbridled bliss washed over me, I felt myself balancing, not shaking, not thinking about the newly formed scabs irritating my skin as I effortlessly pedaled. I was being, I was riding my bike without a worry in the world!

Daily Meditation:

Not much has changed over the years, there will be lots of falls, bruised knees, bleeding elbows still to come. But eventually there is – Balance. It may be very small and fleeting, although it will happen.

BMX 001

 


: New Moon :

Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change- 

When I was a young lad, my next door neighbor shared with me, that the phases of the moon tend to make people crazy every 29.532 days, or so, or whatever it reads on the calendar.

She lamented, that it was caused by the gravitational pull of the moon on the Earth, the same tidal forces that cause high and low tides in our nearby lakes and streams, the argument being that our bodies are more than 45-73% water, and being composed mostly of water, we are thus influenced by the moon.

I was impressionable and fascinated by her voodoo science, seriously, who isn’t at that age? Having long since stored this tasty nugget of information  into the darkest folds of my “brain“, the new moon last night, and a dear friend, reminded me of this theory and awakened my curiosity to do a little more research of my own.

Does a new moon, or any moon? The Death Star?!? Really have a measurable effect on our Being?

Before we turn into forest sprite’s and start dancing around the campfire, we need to define what a “full moon” or “new moon” really is. The moon-thingy revolves around the Earth, and this Earth-thingy revolves around the sun, which is gently rising in the East this morning – Let me know if this ever changes! The phases of the moon, simply represent the portions illuminated by the sun.

Now we can start dancing, for you see, all of this motion creates a very dynamic display for us forest sprite’s and werewolves – The moon dancing in the sky. So when you see that little sliver slice of heaven up above, or not, the rest of the moon is still there—the sun’s rays just aren’t reflected on the surface we are witnessing.

Daily Meditation:

The full moon, new moon or any moon, may or may NOT be causing any mini gravitational tides in our slushy, water filled bodies. The extra light, and the lack of light, is literally messing with our heads, somehow, and seeing that this is not a research based science blog … Truth be told, we’re likely just being paranoid and superstitious. Or perhaps those who claim “lunacy” are those who transform into cheeky little forest sprite’s and hairy werewolves a handful of times during a calendar year – 365.242374 ish days.

CultFit Moon


:Come Rain or Come Shine:

I realize today that nothing in the world is more distasteful to a man than to take the path that leads to himself-

Early this past Friday morning while driving to work, an event occurred that made me question everything in life.

Mindfulness and Awareness are a journey, not a destination, not something to achieve, not the latest “trend” to trick you into signing up for a months worth of yoga classes, and since mindfulness and awareness are deeply personal, I will humbly, and reluctantly share with you the events that enveloped my recent experience. An experience that has both failed me, and helped me tremendously.

Typically, I commute to work via bicycle. I wake early, reheat a cup of black coffee I make the night prior for a minute or so in the microwave and ease into my riding gear, gently and peacefully. This was not the case last Friday. For you see, I was in a rush, I was outside of my body, I was aware of my actions but not mindful of them. The usual list of things come to mind – Work, riding more, building a new bike, helping friends and family, trying to practice yoga twice a day, spending more time abusing myself than nurturing my spirit. Slowing down does not come naturally to me. I once had an old riding buddy (he was old and had legs like tree trunks …) in England say to me, “slow down to go fast mate” and I got it at the time. It’s the proverbial Aesop’s Fable the story of ‘The Tortoise & the Hare’, the tortoise won by going slower. Faster only gets you to your destination quicker – Driving to a noon yoga class while at work, instead of riding my bike to work and practicing at Halleck Park when the sun rises. Driving to work so I can pick up and drop off some bike parts a day ahead of schedule instead of just waiting for the weekend. By practicing to go slower, I become mindful of the world around me, and I pay more attention I actually arrive exactly where I want to be, with more awareness. Instead of a steamy car wash bay, spraying the putrid, burning flesh of a deer from the underside of my car.

All of this sounds so simple, although in practice, its much harder.

Daily Meditation:

So where does this leave me? I believe I need to reflect and review my actions with intention – Do my words and actions really align? My feelings really are indicators of my true spirit. When I am feeling incredibly frustrated with life, unsupported and angry? I need to pause, and take better care of my own emotional well-being. My thoughts truly create the world I call home. Being mindful of how I think is essential to my place in this comforting world at times.

Actions, feelings and thoughts that convey encouraging messages, that leave me feeling content and with a smile on my face, are at the heart of living mindfully.

CultFit Thoughts


London Roses

ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!” they tell you–
Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you.
Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun,
Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you–
Roses of London town, red till the summer is done.

Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming
West End, East End, wondrously budding and blooming
Out of the black earth, rubbed in a million hands,
Foot-trod, sweat-sour over and under, entombing
Highways of darkness, deep gutted with iron bands.

“Rowses, rowses! Penny a bunch!” they tell you,
Ruddy blooms of corruption, see you and smell you,
Born of stale earth, fallowed with squalor and tears–
North shire, south shire, none are like these, I tell you,
Roses of London perfumed with a thousand years.

Willa Cather

CultFit Penny


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