My sister, Denise, recently dusted off an old cassette tape which contains an interview with my grandpa regarding the Great Depression. My Grandpa passed away in 1997 and my Grandma followed in 2008. He was an intelligent, friendly man married to a glamorous, strong woman. I love hearing his special laugh and unique perspective. Here is the audio file:
Interview with Grandpa
Edward Abbey said it best when he described Canyonlands National Park as, “the most weird, wonderful, magical place on earth. Here are some photos of my visit to the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands National Park:
Mesa Arch is gorgeous and accessible by walking a short trail. Here is a pic of my eyes trying to drink it all in and photos of the arch as well as the mountains and canyons beyond:
“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. “He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings. “In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. ”
Today I am kind of depressed, a natural inflection. I leave the house in a huff in my pajamas, not knowing where I will end up. When a little down in the dumps, a run or yoga will typically pick me up. When true Despair makes a visit I crave a long drive, the open road giving me a sense of freedom and liberation my running shoes and yoga mat cannot.
Due to my overarching need for Purpose, I go where most people who are depressed end up when they leave their house in their pajamas: Walmart.
I sit outside and watch people go in and out, enjoying the anonymity of being in a city 45 minutes from the small town I call home. I have some solid ideas on what is causing my depression, but I do not want to address any of these things. Instead, I stew on the circular nature of karma and the difficulty of the human condition.
I attempt to romanticize my current situation with ideas that I will meet a great spiritual teacher here on the bench outside of this Superstore of America. The young Hispanic sweeping up the trash around me offers me, “Looks like it is going to rain again today. I brought my jacket out just in case.”
“Yeah, but the rain is still a blessing, eh?” I offer, hopeful that he will transform this everyday banter into a profound insight on my current state of sadness.
He nods and moves on to litter further away.
Another employee, a rounded woman in her mid-30s, sits on a bench two down from mine.I glance over.
She swigs her Mountain Dew and belches loudly.
Disappointed, I head into the store. I typically reward myself with a bag of Sun Chips and a Vitamin Water after a Wal-mart experience, but today I am not in the mood. I check out with no treats and load up my car for the drive back up to 8,000 feet.
Lately, I have been running. I am training for a marathon. Well, I think I am training for a marathon, just as I think I will one day write a book. Today my schedule dictates that I run, but I here I sit pecking away on my computer. Today may be the first day I miss a training run.
I wonder what the point is. Not just the point of running a marathon, but what is the point of anything? What is the point of consuming Sun Chips? The pint of Guinness after work? The hours I spend on my yoga mat? What difference does it make to the world if I log miles, meditate or drink ten shots?
I can cling to running, I can cling to work, I can cling to Guinness, but in the end, it is all the same. My ego seeks to define itself by external activities, consumptions or possessions. In one moment, I strive to find identity as something-a yogi, a lover, a writer. In the next moment, I know from the experience of my past lives as a financial planner, student and wife of that my spirit cannot make a singular identification with something else home. There will always be cracks in the matrix. There will always be a lack of grounding in these pursuits.
While I have learned this little life lesson, I do not know what is past it. So, I struggle. I attach myself to what is lost because I do not know yet what is to be found.
Maybe the young Hispanic at Wal-mart has a point after all. It does look like it is going to rain today. I should have brought my jacket.
“All you have to do is pay attention; lessons always arrive when you are ready, and if you can read the signs, you will learn everything you need to know to take the next step.” Paulo Coehlo, The Zahir
Only in Colorado do I have to cue yogis to come down from arm balances.” ~Noah Maze
Well, what can I say, Noah? Your statement filled me with pride as I pushed my body through your exceptional LEAP! Class on day 2 of Hanuman. As my ego filled, I noticed how attached I was to accomplishing the postures you cued.
I heard a running dialogue in my mind:
“This class is great. My arms are getting pumped. I am going to be so much stronger. I have never been able to contort myself into Tittibhasana (Firefly Pose) and here I am holding it like a champ.
I should practice these arm balances everyday. Maybe I should add some pull ups into the mix. I could be ripped by the end of the summer. I am going to gain so much muscle. I could probably lose a couple of pounds too.”
And then, I fell right on my behind. I tried to get back in the pose, but I couldn’t stick it.
Kaci, Kaci, Kaci, where is the love? Where is the breath?
I strive for excellence by both my own and others’ standards, but what I was doing in that moment was not excellent. I was allowing my ego to grasp for power by standards that are fleeting. My arm strength and the length of time I can hold Tittibhasana are merely surface level measures of self worth.
You are as powerful as the wind;
You are intelligent, illustrious & an inventor.
There is nothing in this world that’s too difficult for you;
Whenever stuck, you are the one who can help.
-as told to Hanuman by Jambavantha
Forest sages put a curse on Hanuman to punish his orneriness as a child. He had many powers, superpowers if you will, but could not remember what they were unless someone told him.
Like Hanuman, I tend to forget the superpowers I possess until someone tells me about them. No matter where I am at in life, I push for more, looking to acquire power/achievement/virtue without giving reverence to what I already possess.
Hanuman Festival helped me to remember some of the powers I possess but had forgotten. These powers have nothing to do with the size of my biceps, but more with the size of my heart and the strength of my character. As I interacted with teachers and fellow students, I remembered that I am kind. I value people. I give genuine, loving hugs-shining my heart wide open. I have the ability to experience pure joy in watching a solar powered bubble machine or the swing of a hula hoop.
The more I know and love myself, the more I can help raise the vibration.
As I immerse myself back into my normal routine, I hold onto the knowledge of my capabilities. I use the skills I learned from instructors to enhance and encourage the virtues I already have and to nurture those I am inviting into my life. As I open and strengthen my body in asanas, my heart opens to others. I hope to help them recognize the power of the unique superhero inside of themselves.
I am more relaxed. I am more detached with those that interact with me in aggressive or uncaring ways. Now, I view all of us as having the same curse the sages put on Hanuman when he was a little boy. We all possess powers we do not remember. Sometimes this forgetfulness causes us to act hostile or defensive in an attempt to hide our feelings of weakness. With faith, love and the story of Hanuman, we know that we each possess inside of us something larger and more powerful than the strength of our arms, the shape of our hips or the success of our business.
As Jambavantha said to Hanuman, I say to you, me and everyone:
“No other living creature has your strength, wisdom and radiance. Why are you sitting quiet, not knowing yourself?”
I watch a friend love her little girl, born at 28 weeks, instinctively, fiercely and with an abandon unknown to her in the past. I watch via text and email as this little girl fights bravely with every pore in her body to live-TO LIVE, to connect, to be here, to be with us and make her way into the arms of those that love her so much.
I talk with a friend who has known for years, that something is wrong-IT IS WRONG-though on paper she has everything she should dream of. She knows that she must grow, bend and change into something, but she doesn’t know what. She is not sure of the outcome. She does not know who she will be without this cover of the normal life she has been conditioned to want. I observe her struggle to find her voice. Though she knows-SHE KNOWS-she must speak, must act. She does not know what she will say. She does not know what she will do, but she heads forward one clumsy, uncertain step at a time with determined courage.
A friend confides that she is dieting again. Her weight has swung back and forth for the last 10 years. At times, she has taken on this challenge by punishing herself fiercely, disassociating her mind from her body without consideration for her soul. She knows that all of her old obsessions and demons will be there waiting for her to let down her guard for one minute-waiting for her to become too attached to her results, tempting her to punish herself with starvation in order to achieve her goal. And here she is again, back at the plate with a bat in her hand, determined to walk a road of unknown outcomes, but certain fear. She is here in order to live. To truly be alive.
So many of us want to live authentically. When we look at the price tag, living our true self seems expensive. Truly living means we will most likely embarass ourselves one way or another. We may sign up for one train of thought or philosophy, but then, in order to be true, we may have to recant those ideas at an inconvenient time. We may extend our heart to someone who is not available to love us in return. We may make a declaration of “I will never” or “I will always” only to have change that statement to “I will sometimes.”
We are conditioned in life to believe that if we go to Place A we will next find the trail to Place B. Then, we see that our baby was born 12 weeks early. The trail is dark and the only light we can see is the light of an old soul emanating from her young eyes. And now, there is no path.
We have followed the path from college to career, but we are inexplicably unhappy. We followed the trail map we got at the gate, but this trail is filled with sadness. The moment comes when we want to go back and get another map, but we recognize that all trails have been mapped by another hand. We want to lay down in despair, but instead we take out our headlight and head into the forest.
We have walked and walked and walked. We have eaten and not eaten. We have loved ourselves and hated ourselves. We have run. We have walked slowly, examining the leaves and branches of every tree, trying to get it right. We reach the end of the trail, only to realize there is a steep chasm between ourselves and the summit. The chasm is filled with the leaves and branches we so carefully passed by.
More than likely, our authentic self this year will not look the same as our authentic self next year. We will end up bushwhacking our way to what we believe is the top, only to find that we are on someone else’s mountain or have reached a false summit.
But in the end, we must all remember the struggles we have overcome in order to get to this place of demanding truth and authenticity of self. The road, our road, has been leading us here all along. Inspiration will be our food, water and shelter. We must find it. We must cultivate it. Inspiration is here, everywhere.
Inspiration is in the eyes of a child born a few weeks too soon, fighting with her utmost strength TO LIVE. She heads boldly into the unknown. She does not escape into a television, bottle of beer or obsessive exercise. She LIVES because that what she is here to do. She LIVES because she must. We must too. Namastae and blessings.