This .wordpress site will sit here quietly for internet eternity, but please know I continue to write weekly posts about yoga, family, and personal practice at my updated website and blog: www.amandagreenyoga.com!!! At AmandaGreenYOGA– new and improved, you’ll also be able to comfortably glide through several pages of beautiful photos and thoughtful information about the individual, therapeutic yoga that I teach and the healing that comes from it. I’d love to see you there.
xo,
Amanda
Our household was hit with the double whammy last week. Nora had a stomach flu on Thursday and then Hazel came down with Strep throat on Saturday. I think I did as much laundry, sanitizing, and hand washing in one week as I have all year.
Dave was traveling so with the help of my parents, I was able to make all of my teaching commitments. The rest of my time, I made soup, snuggled, and delivered cool wet washcloths to hot little heads. I did manage to lure the girls outside on their respective sick days by making a comfy pallet in the grass so they could get some sun. I took this opportunity to do a little gardening project in what might have been the nicest weather all year.
Even though I was sorry that the girls were sick, I noticed something about myself this week. I was so clear about what I needed to do. I didn’t have any problem postponing my social commitments and setting aside the things on my to do list. Those decisions seemed to make themselves. I showed up for my clients and took care of the girls. I so appreciated the real privilege of being a special person in Hazel’s and Nora’s lives – someone that can offer a little comfort when they feel crummy. I had the peaceful and satisfying experience of following my dharma.
But then…
The girls started to feel better and Dave got back from his trip. My role and my work shifted. Dave took over the cleaning and cooking and as I re-entered the world of email and appointments and phone calls left unanswered, I kind of freaked out. Sitting at my desk, I had a moment of exasperation and overwhelm and I started talking to myself outloud (never a good sign) exclaiming, “Ugh! I didn’t get anything done this week.”
What?! How can I gush about how truly satisfied, blessed, and grateful I am for the chance to care for my children and work with yoga clients then, mere hours later, return to the work of maintaining my very satisfying yoga teaching career, and feel like my week at home was wasted? How is it that when in this other framework of emails and appointments what I actually did for my the people in my life and how I felt about it doesn’t even count?
Big question, but here’s my take-away…
I would like to be as satisfied with all the work I do as I am taking care of my girls. I would like my actions and my time spent to be coming from this place of dharma, because I can see that it’s a qualitatively different way of being. I need to rethink how I’m approaching the “work” aspect of my life. I’m going to have to listen and follow from a different place – some place other than, if I stay busy and spend lots of my time emailing then I’ll be doing the work that will generate business and help me to be successful. Real success is that feeling I had with my girls. Just the thought of spending most of my life in that place, the place of dharma, gives me chills. That’s the kind of success I want…the kind in which my role is clear, important, and satisfying. Decisions come easily because priorities are in place. And the measure of a good week has everything to do with the people I served and nothing to do with the number of emails I responded to.
Maybe you have thoughts about this or you’ve found ways that help you stay connected. I’d love to hear from you in the comment section below.
Dear subscribers,
You will receive this post in your inbox two times. Now and a little later. DON’T WORRY! I’m not spamming you. The updated http://www.amandagreenyoga.com is nearly complete and i’ll be testing my email subscription service to make sure it’s ready for you. (I’m so excited!).
xo,
amanda
I have a yoga practice that I do just about every morning. It involves some chanting, movement, breathing, meditation and prayer. It’s the same practice at the same time and in the same place every day. It’s worth doing. My personal practice is the vital and foundational way I connect to myself, to others, and to God.
I practice in the early morning when lights are out and the house is quiet. It’s a special time of day. When I’m connected and really present, each breath can feel like a little miracle — like a conversation with something divine. It brings such sweetness to the day and reminds me of how I want to be.
It’s not always like this, though. This morning, for example, I caught myself going through the motions like some yoga-automaton. I was half way through my second āsana when I realized I’d been reviewing client appointments and thinking about emails that I hadn’t responded to. I’m not waking up at 5:15 am to think about emails. I brought my attention back to my practice then my mouth watered at the thought of the cup of tea I’d make for myself. I wondered what the weather was like outside and if I could go on a walk. I remembered that the library books are overdue. I kept going through the motions, but I wasn’t really there. My thoughts were somewhere disappointingly mundane. There was no little miracle feeling. There was no particular connection to myself and no awareness of God.
And it occurred to me that this may be my primary work right now– moving toward this special connected feeling and being there more and more of the time. If one end of the spectrum looks like going through the motions, (not just in my yoga practice but in teaching, parenting, being a friend) with my mind and my attention somewhere else, then the other end of the spectrum is this present, aware, connected place in which every moment is a blessing and miracle. This is where I want to be.
Exciting News from AGY!
Next week (for reals), www.amandagreenyoga.com will be home to my updated website AND blog. Please know, we’ll be testing the site to make sure subscribers continue to receive emailed weekly blog posts. You might get extra inspiration from me this week as we work toward the unveiling…
And, of course, if you do not receive your regular Thursday blog post in your inbox, don’t be shy… Re-subscribe! (or check your junk mail).
We’ve had several rats in our house for the last couple of weeks. At first, I wasn’t all that bothered by them. Some scuffling in the night. Sounds coming from the attic. A nibbled banana in the morning. But through these early days, I operated under the assumption that we humans of the household were still in charge. That we’d be able to rid ourselves of the pests and be done with this nature-moving-indoors experiment at any point. Now, I’m not so sure.
The rats seem to have taken over. I did laundry yesterday and discovered that they ate these oval-shaped holes in several t-shirts (making cozy nests for baby rats?). There are chewed bits of wood shavings sprinkled all over the laundry room in the mornings (is it coming from the attic dropping through the vent?). I don’t know how, but each night the rats manage to eat all the bait we leave on the traps without setting ANY OF THEM off. Even more upsetting? One night this week I was sound asleep UNTIL I FELT A RAT CLIMB ONTO ME. It just climbed on up and perched its little self on my hip like it was king of the mountain. It was probably there to install a “RATS OWN THIS PLACE” flag on the highest peak. I’m so over it. Professionals have been called.
There’s a thing about this rat problem, though, that has really been useful for me. I t has helped me to see that most of the time, I operate under the assumption that if I’m vigilant and attentive, then I can anticipate any problem and either avoid it or deal with it. As if, with my own efforts and will, I can keep bad things from happening to me, that I can remain in a good mood, or good health, or in peaceful relationships and it can stay that way because I’m working to make all that happen. But then the rats showed up to help me to see the flaws in my thinking. I’ve been reminded, I am part of the engine that moves my life, but I am not the entire engine.
There are so many things that are like the rats— that are way out of my control. And when I operate under the mistaken assumption that I am in charge, I fail to give due respect to these clever creatures and the other forces at work. Our initial attempts to extract the rats were rather laissez faire. And now? Now our nuisance has escalated to infestation. Quite frankly, I’m humbled. I’m also reminded– though I may be able to influence what happens in my house and in my life, I do not control what happens nor the outcome.
So what is the most appropriate relationship for me to cultivate with these greater forces at work in my life? I thought I was good with God and higher-power and listening for guidance, but this rat experience uncovered some places where Īśvarapranidhana and I still have some work to do. I promise, dear readers, that I will reflect on these ideas at the same time that I continue with operation rat extermination 2015.
Next week, www.amandagreenyoga.com will be home to my updated website AND blog. Please know, we’ll be testing the site to make sure subscribers continue to receive emailed weekly blog posts. You might get extra inspiration from me this week as we work toward the unveiling…
And, of course, if you do not receive your regular Thursday blog post in your inbox, don’t be shy… Re-subscribe! (or check your junk mail).
Most mornings, I have oatmeal for breakfast. I’ve probably had oatmeal 29 out of the last 30 days and I’m not tired of it at all. But while I was packing lunches and making breakfast for the girls this morning, I eyed the apricot jam on the refrigerator shelf and remembered that I bought this delicious salted butter from the grocery store yesterday. My mouth started to water and I decided I’d have toast for breakfast.
Toast with jam and butter is kind of like eating cookies for breakfast. Both are sweet, delicious with tea, and a bit of an indulgence. Toast with jam is not for every day. Not like oatmeal.
I toasted two slices of bread while Nora sat at the table to eat her breakfast-peas. She reminded me that her friend invited her for a play date after school today and wanted to know if that was really happening. I spread the butter and jam onto the warm toast and went to the table to sit down. I brought my phone to the table so I could text the friend’s mom to confirm while I took a bite of toast. After texting, my email was right there so I opened up my email and took a look at the annoying office depot ad, the girlscouts newsletter and an evite reminder about an upcoming Halloween dance party. Then, as habit would have me do, I did a quick check of facebook and saw I had a friend invite from this very muscular tattooed man who I don’t know. Though I’m sure he’s very nice, I deleted that request. I probably would have continued in facebook-landia but Nora explained that her peas were like little water balloons in her mouth and she wanted to have a pea-water-balloon fight at the table. I discouraged this. It was at this moment I turned my attention back to my meal and in my hand was my VERY LAST BITE OF TOAST. As soon as I saw my bite of toast and put my attention there, my mouth was flooded with the delicious butter and sweet, fruity apricot already in my mouth. I had been eating that whole time, but with my attention on my phone, I hadn’t tasted any of it. I didn’t even realize that I had been feeding myself. I was surprised and very disappointed to see that my special breakfast was nearly gone.
This is no joke.
Where we put our attention determines our experience.
I put all my attention on my phone and missed out on enjoying my toast. And if I had taken time to choose the best place to put my attention, it wouldn’t have even been the toast. It would have been Nora. Because there I was, sitting at the table with a kid who is so funny and so great and who will only be 7 for a few more months. It was just the two of us and it was the rare morning when we weren’t rushing around. I missed out on a chance to connect with Nora before she left for school. Nora is a good place to put my attention, every time.
Just being physically present isn’t enough. Robotically putting toast into my mouth at breakfast isn’t where the nourishment comes from. It’s the taste, the smell, and the feel of what comes in. When we choose what we want to connect to and put our mind on what we are doing, then that’s nourishing. That’s presence. That’s yoga.
Join me this Saturday
Saturday, October 31st, 2015
10:15-11:45AM
As 2015 comes to a close, move into the upcoming Holiday Season with mindfulness and grace. This workshop will provide steps to learn gentle breathing and calming techniques to help you manage and even avoid the stresses of the season. You’ll leave empowered with tools you can use for self-care, self-reflection and gratitude.
Onion Creek Country Club
Fee: $35 member/ $40 guest
To register, please contact: Amanda
or mreininger@onioncreekclub.com
Last night I was standing over the kitchen sink doing dishes. Only it wasn’t just the dishes in the sink. There was an oppressively loooong line of dishes snaking down the counter, too. As Dave tucked the girls in to bed, I turned on a little music, put on the green rubber gloves and got to work.
At first, I felt satisfied by my task and grateful that Dave made such a delicious dinner. I progressed quickly, loading the dishwasher-safe stuff into the machine. The tail of the snake was efficiently amputated by my tetris-like diswasher-loading acumen. When that was done, I went around the kitchen collecting the stray cooking bowls, knives and utensils from the nearby counters. This is when I felt the grumbling begin.
“This is way too many dishes to have at the end of the evening. Dave should clean up as he goes. This is such a drag. It’ll be an hour before I finish with this job and I’m tired.” This all happened in my head and I could feel myself turning toward the grouchy dark side. My whole body started to close off. This line of thinking is practiced and ingrained. It is such a strong saṁskāra that it’s tough to get out of once it starts. Resentment. Frustration. Anger. Duḥkha.
Miraculously, before I was completely taken over another voice spoke up, “Yeah, but Dave made a delicious dinner and there is something very satisfying about washing and cleaning. You have this sweet family and beautiful, functional dishes, and hot water that comes right out of this faucet and you could focus on that. Remember samtoṣa. Find a way to be content even here.” I could actually feel the ease come back into my body with these thoughts. Gratitude. Love. Kindness. Sukha.
With each dish pile I tackled, the internal dialogue went back and forth. Duḥkha vs. sukha. The dark, heavy feeling in my chest, the anger, and the closing down vs. the light, open, willing and loving attitude. In such a tangible way, I noticed the shifts in my system that went with each mental/emotional state. Recognizing this made it easy to know where I wanted to land. I wanted to be able to enjoy the last quiet hour with Dave before bed instead of stewing about this stupid dish-strategy argument for the 121st time in our married life.
And here’s the amazing part… I did!
I looked at the diminishing dish piles and made it through. I wiped down the counters and the stove. I polished up the sink. I rearranged the flowers in the vase and I did my best to stay connected to contentment. When I was finished, I joined Dave in the living room and from his place on the couch he said, “Thanks for doing all those dishes. I know there were a lot. I even cleaned up some as I went.” And I smiled and said, “I’m just so glad you made dinner for us. It was delicious. I love you.” And I meant every word.
Upcoming Workshop near Austin, TX!
Saturday, October 31st, 201510:15-11:45AM As 2015 comes to a close, move into the upcoming Holiday Season with mindfulness and grace. This workshop will provide steps to learn gentle breathing and calming techniques to help you manage and even avoid the stresses of the season. You’ll leave empowered with tools you can use for self-care, self-reflection and gratitude. To register, please contact: Amanda or mreininger@onioncreekclub.com |
A pipe burst some very important main water line and all the houses that are served by our utility company have been on a stage 4 water emergency for the last week and a half. Before any repairs, this water leak was gushing 400-gallons of water every minute. All households were required to limit the amount of water used indoors and absolutely no outside watering was allowed. The utilities people wanted to make sure we’d have drinking water while they worked on the repairs.
This part of Texas has been in drought conditions (or extreme flooding emergencies) since I moved back 5 years ago, so I’ve given a lot of thought to how we use water around my house. We have low flow everything, when yellow, we let mellow, and bathing is quick and not every day. Seems good. And yet, I do really enjoy gardening. To me, good gardening and a lovely yard look like an ocean of lush, green, flowering trees and plants. We’ve been slowly reducing the size of lawn, but what’s still there needs watering 3 times a week. I avoid the tropical plants, but the plants I do have can’t survive the 90+ degree heat that we are still getting well into the fall. Several mornings a week, I stand around my garden draining water that is pure enough to drink into the ground around the my beloved plants. Clean, clear water is piped to a faucet at my house and I pour it into the dirt. What a luxury.
I like it. I like watering. I like gardening. I like watching things grow, but I’m reminded with this recent water emergency, that this essential resource is something that deserves my respect, appreciation and mindfulness not just inside my house but in my yard and garden, too. Is liking something a lot enough reason to continue doing it? Or is there something else that can be a foundation for making a decision like this? Something beyond likes and dislikes?
Developing a contemplative practice in which we cultivate self-awareness and spend time in reflection about likes or dislikes is so useful, especially when we are looking to make a change in our habits and let go of something that we do in daily life. When personal preferences are determining our behavior, our actions may be coming from a place that is self-serving or serving some old need or pattern that developed long ago. Instead, we can learn to listen and connect to the bigger, better version of our “Self”. This discernment and the ability to know where our behavior comes from is very useful. It’s this deeper self that provides a better foundation for making decisions and determining our behavior. Knowing the difference takes practice and the ability to direct our thoughts and attention.
There are plenty of drought tolerant plants and trees that grow and bloom in the climate we are in, but I’ll have to learn more, do the work, find a place that sells them or make friends with people who are willing to share their knowledge and maybe baby plants that come up in their yard. I can feel how reluctant I am to let go of the way I’ve been doing things around the yard, but I also have a deep knowing that there’s a better way.
I have a person in my life, one who is very dear to me, and I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out just what she should do to resolve the issues that cause her so much trouble. From the outside, it’s seems kind of obvious. The thing is, every time I’ve made a suggestion or pointed out what she’s doing to cause her own troubles, the advice doesn’t land. She resists doing the very thing that I think would help her to improve her situation. She isn’t ready or willing. The time isn’t right. Or perhaps, the answer needs to come from within her instead of from me.
It’s also possible that she is engaged in her own very personal process that I’m just not privy to, precisely because it’s that… personal. And it is also possible that there is something at work in her life even if it doesn’t look like a spiritual path. Because there are those early days of one’s spiritual journey—times that feel so difficult or painful that something has to change. Or those days when it seems like we are doing everything ‘right’ but still something is missing. Sometimes something happens, something significant, and touches us in a way that can no longer be explained with any explanation that we’ve used in the past and there’s a spark. There’s an opening to something outside of ourself.
This question, posed by KP some weeks ago, left me to consider, if someone isn’t willing to do the work to look at him or herself, then they aren’t willing. I’d say willingness is a requirement to engaging with a spiritual path. But just because it appears that someone isn’t willing doesn’t mean that it’s so. All sorts of things are at work in people’s inner lives. I’ve had to learn to trust that people are on their path, and it isn’t my work to be the instrument of someone else’s transformation. See my loved ones where they are. Just do that.
Maybe this question is really about the accessibility of spirituality. If the process of connecting to something spiritual inside of us is difficult, is it possible that it is too difficult for some? And if it, say yoga, isn’t available to everyone, then is that a system that I want to engage with? Is this non-egalitarian pursuit something to put my faith in and try hard to practice and learn?
I’ve seen that if someone is willing then there is a way, and yoga, or another spiritual path, is accessible to anyone who’s willing, whatever their starting point. It’s a one-step-at-a-time kind of thing and you take the first step from where you are and in a way that is meaningful to you. Then you head somewhere. You go in a direction and end up in a place that you haven’t been before.
I tend toward busy-ness. If I let auto-pilot take over and I’m not paying attention, over-busy is what happens around here. I have a way of generating tasks and activities so that I get the satisfaction of checking something off of a list, even if the list is kind of lame. I guess this stems from an early-childhood belief that if I’m busy, I’m also productive, though this has not proven to be true.
Staying busy is also a way that I avoid stuff I don’t want to feel or I put off things I don’t want to do. “How can I possibly take on a self-improvement project? I’m already overwhelmed.” If I’m working under low-grade anxiety about getting everything done or always anticipating what comes next, then I don’t have much space to contemplate a conversation in which I was careless or to address the nagging feeling that I’m steering off my path. I just keep moving.
I received this comment from Sept. 17th’s post, ‘We are all trying to figure out how to suffer less.’ “At least for me, to find and follow a real spiritual path takes a LOT of work and time – sifting through all the stuff that gets in the way – with constant attention and discipline.” When expressed in this way, I think spiritual practice sounds too hard to tackle amidst what’s already a busy and full life. And yet, that hasn’t been my experience.
A balanced, meaningful, and spiritual life doesn’t come from generating busy work or accomplishing 100 tasks every day. More is not better. I’m most satisfied with my life when I can listen and laugh with my girls or be totally tuned in when my husband comes in for a sweet hug and kiss. I get a really good connected feeling from pulling weeds and taking care of my garden. This stuff requires stillness, presence, and time and an ability to sift through all the stuff that gets in the way, as KP says so beautifully. Yes it does.
KP is right. Following a spiritual path does take effort. Some regular practice is necessary. A yoga practice, time spent in prayer, reflective writing… these are some of the ways we take to connect to something higher. Even though there’s some effort and time involved, there’s something special about time devoted to one’s spiritual life. Meaningful time spent in this way pays back by offering a more mindful, and present me during the rest of the day. Because I take the time to be conscious and intentional in the morning, I’m less likely to feel like I have to hustle. I have less anxiety. On the best days, I’m focused, present, and more aware.
This time spent connecting with a peaceful presence and in self-reflection sets us up to have days in which we are more peaceful and self-aware. We might aim for constant attention in our activities, but a gradual approach is probably a better way to develop a spiritual practice. We progressively develop patterns of attention so the reflexive and habitual responses don’t run on auto. This takes time and practice. But the practice is a part of the day. How we spend our time and approach our daily tasks becomes a part of our spiritual path.
Reading this post makes me curious: why do you think the tool we have to discover follow our spiritual path, the self, as you argue here, is so flawed? At least for me, to find and follow a real spiritual path takes a LOT of work and time – sifting through all the stuff that gets in the way – with constant attention and discipline. Why was our tool created to be so messy? Particularly for those who aren’t willing to do the work, will they never find a spiritual path?
KP submitted this comment on last week’s blog. I love it because is a perfect entrée into some of the deeper philosophical teachings of yoga. This comment touches on some really big questions about why we are here, why we suffer, and what do we do about it.
The yoga sūtras lay out the philosophical underpinnings to a yogic perspective. This perspective is one that can help us to begin to see ourselves and the world around more clearly so that we suffer less. There’s a lot to the text and I’ve only begun to dip my toe in, but as I study with my teacher and consider the ideas and practices in the yoga sūtras, I’m amazed at how relevant and how useful it all is.
So here’s a little reflection on the first part of KP’s comment. I’m thinking about the other parts of the comment for upcoming posts. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!
Reading this post makes me curious: why do you think the tool we have to discover follow our spiritual path, the self, as you argue here, is so flawed?
We have a body (mind, spirit, emotions, personality/material aspect) and we have something else. Something that observes. Something that dwells within this material, changing aspect of ourselves. Because we perceive and do everything with and through the body, we can confuse it with the observer. The body is not who we really are.
But here’s the crux… It’s through the body, more specifically the mind, that we can start to perceive the difference between the changing aspects of our self and the thing that doesn’t change. Yoga gives us a way to improve our attention so we can tune in to this should we choose. But why would we choose to look at stuff that’s unpleasant and hard? When everything is going along swimmingly, we probably aren’t as motivated to look at ourselves, our patterns, unmet needs, and a whole host of other difficult questions. Most of us just keep swimming along because, Hey, it’s working fine. It’s when some suffering arises, in the myriad of ways that it tends to do, that we start to look for a solution. That we develop the attention so that we can pay attention. When things really suck, we have a special motivation to observe and change our perspective (or at least how we operate) to a way that is less painful.
The tool (body, mind, etc.) is the way we perceive the suffering, and what motivates us to have less of it. It’s by working with this tool, refining it, that we can develop a change in perspective so we have more peace.
Amanda Green YOGA 