Living the Life of Brahmacharya

This is my dog Gunnar. He is all Black Laborador Retriever. He lives to retrieve. He knows nothing about the study of Yoga or at least he has not told me so, maybe he does and this is the question I am going to explore.

I am currently in Yoga teacher training. It is an eight week program and I am on week 4. I have decided to study the 8 Limbed Path of Yoga by practicing a Yama and then a Niyama each week. This week it is the practice of Brahmacharya or non-excess.

Traditionally this was about celibacy in young monks, preserving your semen and protecting that life force for deeper meditation and focus. Non-excess may be a more contemporary interpretation and is possibly more attainable for yoga students in 2012. Non-excess is also something I can contemplate with regards to Gunnar. Is he the picture of moderation or is he excessive personified?

I could argue that he doesn't want for much. He wants to be fed daily with dog food and water. Does he want other kinds of food other than the food he is given? Well, the longing glances and impenetrable stares while I am eating my breakfast, lunch and dinner could imply that he would eat my food...ALL OF IT...if I let him. And yes, he has "stolen" sticks of butter, pieces of bread and other left-overs that were placed within his tongues reach. So, I guess we could come to the conclusion that if left to his own will-power, he would have little control of his eating impulses.

What makes Gunnar different from humans is the power of the voice. We have a voice to complain if we don't have enough, don't like what we have or want MORE! Food is an area I could definately work on brahmacharya. I tend to buy more food then we need and as a result, throw away food that goes bad.  At times have I have eaten more or ordered more food than I could or should have. I have indulged and over-consumed and my brain is bigger than Gunnar's. I have no excuse.

Gunnar doesn't excessively buy clothes, furniture, long for the newest car or latest electronic gadget.  His life is simple, feed me, walk me...better yet, take me to the dog park, and most of all...PET ME!  He can never be pet enough.  When I scratch under his chin, he lifts his head high and back- a huge heart opener  for him, a bit like camel pose- ustrasana, he does this naturally.

Gunnar has not asked for a new bed...yet...he is content to sleep on the floor but tends to prefer soft pillows.  He restrains himself at times when told to stay (when he obviously would rather be under the table waiting for dropped food).  When taken to the dog park and the ball has been thrown enough, he takes a break and lies in the long grasses in the distance to tell me that he is moderating his movement.  Gunnar is the MOST gentle being that I know.  He allows children of all shapes and sizes to manipulate his body.  They snuggle next to him, they dance with him, they wrestle with him- they use him in a variety of ways for their pleasure and he doesn't complain.  Gunnar barks on occasion, but doesn't carry on or use his voice in excess.

Wallace Slater, in his book "Raja Yoga" states that brahmacharaya is self-control in all things.  "Be temperate in eating, in sexual relaions, in movement, in emotional expression, in thought.  Avoid excesses of all kinds. Be gentle in action and speech.  Such behaviour will prepare the aspirant for subsequent practice in advanced mediation, and he will, at the same time, be an influence for peace in his surroundings (Slater, pg. 26)."  So Gunnar, because he is a dog, does not have a big enough brain to think about moderation.  He does what feels good and if that means he can get someone to pet him ALL DAY LONG, that is what he would do.  He is not intentionally practicing moderation so that he can prepare himself for advanced meditation, again, because he is a dog.  Yet, the above would have me contemplate how I could be more like Gunnar and be content with what I have and practice a little more moderation in some areas of my life like being patient and more quiet and content with what I have.

I do wonder, what does he do all day long when we are at work? Maybe he IS meditating?

Summer in the North Lands

In early July, I went to northern Minnesota off of the Gunflint Trail to a cabin for a week. Part of the week is spent in solitude and the rest is spent communing with some of the wonderful women in my life. This year was the second annual retreat.

It is interesting to me why many women tend to wait to do this type of thing (be alone) until we are almost 40 or ARE 40 something or older. I guess for most of us, prior to this we are busy raising young children and/or getting our careers up and going. Both were the case for me.

I can't tell you how rejuvenating it is to get away from the city. There is no cell or phone service and no internet/wireless. It does have electricity and running water but I don't consider these things that I necessarily have to get away from. It does FEEL good to get away from computers which take up much daily life. It also feels good to live a simple life for a week. Believe me, once you do it, you will want another week and ANOTHER!

Having never lived alone in all of my life, I do appreciate the simplicity of the solitary life. I can cook if I want but don't have to. I can clean when I want and only have to clean up after myself. Since I don't have any bills or things to repair or money I have to make in this life, I don't have to do much at all. What I do do is sleep, read, walk, swim, run and think (or not).

The best part of this trip is knowing and seeing that beautiful, pristine and peaceful places exist in this world!

The Beese are here!

We've become bee keepers! We had always privately thought about bee keeping, the Professor and I. We did not even share this thought with each other for many years. Only recently, after seeing the documentary, "The Queen of the Sun", did we know that we HAD to keep bees- that we always knew we would.

(Please remember- you can click on the photos to enlarge.)

The Little Man and the Professor gaze in amazement at our box of Italian bees (via California).

Inside their traveling cage the intoxicated bees await their new home.

The Professor removes the feeder can and releases the first bee.

Emptying the traveling cage to their new home.

7,000 BEES!

The Queen in her cage.

Attaching the queen.

Taking flight.

Putting on the second Langstroth box.

The Little Man has made a friend for life.

Our furry friend.

Long Time Friends

Sometimes all you need is pictures.

If you seek all that is possible, then all that is possible will seek you.

Imagine you are a squirrel. You don't really know where the nut is that you buried last fall but you are pretty sure that you did a lot of work to get ready for the winter. The squirrel doesn't know how many nuts there are where she lives but she believes that there is an abundance and she goes about her business to find them. She finds many.



Now, imagine you are living in poverty in a land where there is little water or food. If you don't leave, you will surely die. You have heard of this place called "america". You have heard that in this land everyone has food, everyone has water, everyone has a place to live and there is this thing called "opportunity". You BELIEVE this to be true and decide to leave your native country and seek all that is possible in this place called America.

You cross the ocean by boat and they say you will know when you arrive when you see a lady. A proud, tall lady with a crown and a light, pointing the way towards all the possibilities. In the distance, you see her and you know now that it IS possible. ANYTHING that you need, want, desire is there, is here, with you, inside you. You just needed to seek it so that you could find each other.
photos by LupeLu

On the Road to Shambala

I came late to the "LOST" series. I started watching it, not on network TV, because I don't HAVE hook-up to either cable or even the "regular" stations, but via the internet on Netflix. I LOVE watching shows this way, no commercials AND if I want to watch 10 episodes a day...I CAN! If I had watched the show as it played on TV, I don't think I could have waited a WHOLE week for the next episode...it would have killed me!

Anyway, this post isn't about my addiction to LOST, it's about the themes that LOST uses and the themes that have been reoccurring in my life.

Connections and faith are portrayed in this clip from LOST.
About connections: People, as the humans we are, desire to be connected to other people. This is why blogs exist, this is why Facebook is such a hit. We are not creatures who feed off of isolation, that is uncommon AND I would argue, not healthy. We join groups, we belong to churches, synagogues, mosques. We join run clubs, adventure groups, bands, gangs, anything to be connected even if it is a negative influence. We want to be accepted, for who we are, not who we could become or what people want us to be. When we don't get that acceptance, we can become bitter, self-indulgent, depressed. Children, if not given positive attention, will go for negative attention (e.g. when you say "no", I'll do it again, just because I can and you are giving me attention).

I've found that my connections to people have lead me either one way or the other- good vs. evil. I guess, if I think about it, it all depended on how I felt about myself at the time. Insecurity lead to evil. Self love to good. Either way, it was the connection that I was longing for.

On faith. I truly believe that if you BELIEVE...it will become reality.

At age 6, I never doubted this. I could BE and DO anything! I WAS an actress, I was a world traveller. I was an awesome mom. The possibilities were endless. Faith has been challenged since then. As I grew older, I was told and believed that I COULDN'T do things. I was told there were limitations. I now think that this is the worse thing we do to our children.

So, now I am trying to get back my faith. Trying to be Hurley, driving down the hill at 60mph headed straight for the rocks with eyes closed saying, "there is no curse, there is no curse". Just like Hurley, I'm hoping that the VW will start and I'll go driving in the promise land with Three Dog Night singing Shambala in the background.

Wish me luck!

Refreshing the blog in NYC

I have decided to refresh the blog once again. It is time for me to park myself in this cyberspace place, I will be transient no more.

The inspiration came to me in NYC. A friend asked me if I still was blogging. I had to say "no, not for quite some time now". Facebook has been consuming my computer time. Not that I am against Facebook but it doesn't allow the creative muse to be satiated.

So - this will be short- just an introduction, a refresh of the blog. As I am a just traveler of of this blue planet, I wish you a Romani "sastipe" from NYC. Enjoy the video below from one of my favorite "gypsy" bands, Devotchka.

Winter Memories

The family went snow tubing this winter with the little man's school at a place we have never been to before.

This was snow tubing like no other snow tubing I have ever seen. No trudging back up the hill with your tube, a moving sidewalk carried you and your tube effortlessly up the hill to repeat the cycle again and again...swiftly down and effortlessly up. As you can see in the video, they even had snow banks on the side so that there was no worry about killing each other as you flew down the hill...very safe, LOVED IT!



The Professor relished this event (as you can see, he was deprived as a child)with multiple solo runs with the little "Flip" camera.

I wanted to go down together as I find these events more fun in groups but for my introvert husband, he found more joy in the solo adventure. Either way it was a beautiful day that I remember fondly.

We even got the sullen teenager to tube once or twice after sitting out for hours.

I only have time for poems...

3/23/10

The caw in the naked crook
fears black
screaming
the chill of the wind
scars my naked breast

Originals

Putting some poetry out there again. Not sure if they are quite finished. What do you think?


Poor Man’s Special

Sorrow, the bitter glass of chardonnay
beach boys tinned ceiling décor
my weary elbows rest on the robbers countertop
stuck to the spot, the black hole of my existence
surrounded by Monkeys, the poor man’s special at the door.



Unnamed

You’ve put me in solitary confinement; duck tape mouth and platypus feet
I am the excessive sense of self importance drizzled over a peanut buster parfait
Your shadowy creaking slippers cannot hypnotize me no more
Cannot hypnotize me no more
I sensed your absence from my side
Dredged from the talk show in my mind, David Letterman as God
Even children get champagne
It’s my revival - full of splendor and magnificence
Straight jacketed fervor boiled brew.

Freya's day

I am taking this from Wikipedia...a bit of a paraphrase...'in most countries with a five day work week, Friday is the last day of the week giving us cause for celebration and/or relief.' However if you lived in Saudi Arabia or Iran, Friday is the last day of the weekend, Saturday being the first day of the work week. I'm guessing that I would feel a bit differently than I do today if I lived there.

In Germanic languages, Friday means the day of Freya who is the goddess of love. Similarly in romantic languages, Friday is derived from Latin dies Veneris, "day of Venus", Spanish viernes or French, vendredi and vineri in Romanian.

This goddess comes to me at a good time.

I believe in the power of the universe, providing what you need when you need it. In my life, I run into people for a reason, have conflict and strife for a reason. I believe that all events are meant to help me evolve. My oldest child. The child that has pushed me to the limits from the day he was born...not sleeping through the night until he was three. If I didn't learn patience then, he continues to provide me with opportunities. He is here to teach me patience, acceptance, and gratitude.

The power and the beauty in the mother Freya is in me. I can draw from her energy, her passion and her strength.

Winter Solstice 2009

The Professor and I in Mexico 1997

Today is a memorable day for me. It was on this day in 1997 (12 years ago) that The Professor proposed to me in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. The name Zihuatanejo comes from the word "Cihuatlan" which means "place of women" in Nahuatl. We went there to celebrate the baptism of our dear friends' first born son and it was the beginning of a six month journey for me and my eldest son in Spanish immersion. I studied at the University IberoAmericano while we lived with my friend's family.
All of us in the Zocalo in Mexico City.

The beach of the Cats, on the other hand, owes its name to the abundance of cat sharks (an inoffensive squalus that has a moustache and no teeth) that used to live in nearby waters.

I remember how difficult it was for me at the time, being away and having to think and speak in Spanish all the time. The Professor and our friends stayed with me through New Years but then went back to the Twin Cities to resume their lives. It was hard to be away from my love as I was newly "in love". The Professor and I meet two years earlier and had been living together for a year. We had a house and a dog and a 4 year old boy. The proposal itself was a surprise but knowing that I would marry this man was not.

On a sultry morning on the 21st of December as we were getting ready to start our day, The Professor pulls me aside to a balcony off of the hotel hallway. Years later I don't remember exact words, I just remember the feeling...excitement, elation...as he pulled out a beautiful ring with a turquoise stone and a silver leaf on each side of the stone, put it on my finger and asked me to marry him. The perfect setting. Perfect timing.

My plan is to return to this place in 2010. I haven't been to Mexico since then and it is time.

Just a poem

I swim in a sea of uncertainty
treading slowing when I get tired
I maneuver through the black waves
that come
upon
me
I am a strong swimmer,
that is the problem,
I have practiced
all
my
life
with each turn of my head
I fill my lungs with air
to return it to the depths
once more
once more
once more
once more
once more

They're creepy and they're kookie...

The Adams Family. Didn't we all love that show? Well, now my 10 year old loves it. He love it so much that it is all he can talk about. We don't have television but he "YouTube's" it. He watches it at the Grandma's house. Wherever he can, he sucks it in and memorizes it and recites it to me daily! Between this show and his obsession for The Lord of the Rings...hmmmm, this must be a phase.

Every night for at least a month, if not more, he has gone to sleep playing the same song from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. He has it on repeat so that it plays over and over and over. If we don't shut if off at night, it is all we hear all night long. He loves this song SOOOO much that he has learned to play it on the piano just by ear. This may seem mean of me but I have asked him to STOP playing it on the piano at times because I just can't take the same song over and over and over again!

Ok, tell me...was there a song that you remember that you loved SOOO much that you played it over and over and over until your parents yelled at you to stop playing that song? I am sure I must have done it but I can't remember what the song was or if they ever told me to turn it off. Maybe I blocked it out of my memory because it was so traumatic. I don't know. Let me hear your stories.

Camera thieves should have their hands cut off!!

I have to start this post by saying I would like to have a number of pictures to show for the 2+ weeks I was in Barcelona and southern France with the Professor but that is the reason for this post. I do not have pictures because on the last day of our trip, we were at the beach in Barceloneta on the Mediterranean Sea and my camera was stolen with all the memory cards, battery charger and all. EVERYTHING was in my backpack and they took that from right beside me - one second it was there and the next it was in the hands of some thief among a sea of a thousand tourists on the sand.

Now I know that the title of this blog is a bit harsh, but I am PISSED! The THOUGHT of someone TOUCHING my camera, handling all the gadgets, the batteries, the case...possibly looking at the pictures as they delete them to sell the thing, it makes me want to vomit. I feel violated. It's like they were touching ME, my husband and our lives.

I am also struggling with the thought that it was MY fault. I should have been more vigilant, I should have left my camera in the hostel, I should have SAT on my backpack while I lay on the beach and not have laid it beside me. I should have left the full memory cards in the hostel. SHIT. I'd give anything to have that moment back, to have left my camera in the safe confines of the locker of our room at the hostel.

But, it was our last day. We wanted to see the sea one last time. As we approached the beach, people had surfboards...we wondered why. The last time we were there, there was nary a wave that could be called surfable. This day though, it was windy and there WERE waves, surfable ones. The Professor was soooo excited. He is a longboarder and that means he is a surfer as well. Even though he has never surfed, I think he imagines himself doing it when he is on his long board. So, he was out there, immediately, playing with those waves and although he didn't have a board, he pretended he did.

I got some great video footage of him that day. It was the first video I shot the whole trip. I hadn't wanted to use up too much memory or battery beforehand but since it was our last day, I thought, what the heck? That was the last thing I will ever put on that camera.

We got the camera before the Professor went to Vietnam the first time. It was our first digital camera. We went with a small, portable one so that it would be easy for him to tote around, a Canon PowerShot SD1000 Digital Elph (I am looking at the box right now with the manual and cords still inside). I loved it. It took awesome pictures for such a small camera and only 7.1 mega pixels.

It wasn't the actual thing that I was so attached to but what I was able to do with the "thing". Photography became a hobby for me. Getting cool, interesting shots of people, places and things - I have a good eye for a good shot AND my pictures of Spain and France were INCREDIBLE!

Provence, with it's lavender and sunflower fields, it's stone houses with colorful wooden shutters. The summit of Mount Ventoux, where the Professor and I were so scared of falling off the edge we didn't think we'd be able to drive back down. Those pictures were taken from the door of my car because I was too afraid to get out for fear I'd be blown off the mountain top (I swear they sweep up the bodies every evening). The multiple castles. The castle of the Marquis de Sade in Lacoste, the random Salses castle originally Spanish but now in France built on a narrow flat streak of land along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. So many more. Our tour took us to many Roman ruins as well. The Pont Julien (Julian bridge),in Bonnieux near Apt, France which we specifically went to to take pictures of for our eldest son whose name is Julian. It was built over the Calavon river but I'm sure the river has changed since the Romans marched over that bridge for today there is just a small puddle or two left of the Calavon.

Oh, I could go on and I just might in the next blog which will be more about my trip than the camera but I needed to vent. I MAY need therapy. The Professor says I should buy a BETTER camera - the Nikon D90 was suggested to me by the make-up counter lady at Macy's (I went there to replace all the make-up that was stolen as well). I just don't know, small and compact is nice, easy... but maybe I go for big and better now. It is just too soon. I have to mourn the SD1000 for a bit and be without.

Little Man Update

We have made it out of the dark tunnel. This wasn't done alone. It was done with an incredible amount of love and healing energies from people near and far, people close to us and people I might not even know.

The Little Man is walking again. He is without walker or crutch. He has a slight leg length difference (his left leg is 3 cm shorter than is right) that he didn't have before, so he wobbles a bit. The doctors say that this should correct itself in 1-2 years. All regular activities have pretty much resumed although mom is a bit hesitant to allow sledding, skating etc...The Little Man though is resilient and oblivious to his wobble or what he has gone through.

At Gillette in October just after break

I guess this is the light that the nine year old holds...he is very much in the present (although he has already been planning his double digit birthday coming up this summer). The Little Man has physical therapy twice a week now. One day is land therapy at Gillette Children's Hospital and the other day is water therapy.

Water Therapy started in late November

Going to Gillette weekly, I see how lucky we are. The Little Man is walking, unlike so many who will never walk. He talks, unlike many who will never utter a word.

Minnesotans complain a lot about the weather. This incident has converted me from a fellow commiserator to a daily gratitude giver. I wake up thankful for all the little things. I am thankful for the snow, the cold, my heated home with warm bed covers that are soft and fluffy. I get out of that bed every day and I am thankful that I can. I walk out the door on my own each day...unassisted. I eat... unassisted. I taste delicious foods. I have a variety of food to chose from. How LUCKY is that?!

Yes, very thankful...for all the little things.

Etch- A -Sketch Prodigy

Ok - I suppose every parent thinks that their child is talented, special and fairly smart. I am no different. BUT... the Little Man, who is nine and in a cast is freakishly talented. No, he is not reading "Being and Nothingness" by Jean Paul Sartre or doing quantum physics...he is creating amazing pictures on Etch-A-Sketch! You know, the magnetic thing that uses one continuous line!

Now, if you have read my earlier blogs and have seen pictures of my house you will see the resemblance. This is a picture of our house, trees, bushes, wood-chip paths and all! I barely can write my name legibly on Etch-A-Sketch. Now, please tell me if I am blowing this out of proportion but I have never seen an Etch-A-Sketch picture like this...well, only in the movie "Elf". Pretty cool.

MN 80's music - here's to you Gary

The Professor and I watched the B52's on Gary's site...it brought us waaaayyy back. The Professor said as he watched, he could smell the smells of the time.

As he and I are both very passionate about music we thought we would share one of The Professor's all time favorite bands of the 80's. He once wrote a personal note to Chan Poling, who is now in "The New Standards" and he wrote back. Beej Cheney is one of his all time guitar heroes.

Feel the feelings and taste the flavor of the 80's.

'80's flashback

What makes you feel good when you are feeling down? A flashback from the '80's! I used to go dancing 6 nights a week in Minneapolis. I think the only night I didn't go out was Monday, every other night there was dancing... somewhere. I have tried to go out dancing in recent years but have not had quite the experience that I used to. I really believe it is the music. It is just not as good.

The best times I have had dancing recently have been in someones living room. Most recently it was to "Hung up" by Madonna. She's inspirational - I WILL DO YOGA EVERYDAY!!!!

Update on the Little Man

He is home now, in better spirits and taking things in stride. The surgeon in charge of his surgery drew this witch on his cast to help make him feel better. His favorite holiday is Halloween - the first thing HE drew on his cast was a jack-o-lantern.

The hospital bed arrived yesterday evening and we put it in the front room. He also has a wheelchair that reclines that he is able to move around in. I would like to get him outside as the weather here has been gorgeous and the fall colors are bright and in bloom but it may be a bit too soon for that as he opposes the idea of anyone other than good friends and family seeing him in a wheelchair.

There is hope though that he will be able to maneuver around in crutches down the line since he has his right leg free from the knee down...we'll see what happens.

What good comes from something like this? A friend said that it is "love" and I believe she is right. We have had such an outpouring of love and support from our family, friends, co-workers, and schoolmates that it makes things so much more bearable. The Beatles sung it like this..."All You Need is Love".