Autumn Yoga Class (2nd Session)

Thanks to all who attended the first session of our Autumn Yoga Practice.  It’s been lovely!

We have a two week break (to work on our home practice, wink-wink) and will begin again Nov. 10th.

Enjoy!

Yoga Practice: Mindful Moving, Mindful Breathing

Mondays, 5:30 – 6:45pm, No Limits Studio
Nov. 10 – Dec. 15
$58 per session or $13 drop-in.

This 75 minute Yoga Practice is a “power yoga slow-down” and explores postures and breathing techniques that will cultivate ease and openness, strength and flexibility, awareness and contentment. Utilizing the principles of Ashtanga Yoga while following our body’s internal rhythms and wisdom, we will find support where we are weak and inspiration where we are strong. Come with an open mind and a big heart. All levels welcome!

~ Please email amysecrist6@gmail.com to register ~

Storing Up

Bare feet in the October afternoon
we peel apart the flowering silks
of season-ending sweet corn;

the scent of sugared earth floats
as we tear the still-green leaves
revealing rows of cobbed kernels.

Snapping free the stalk and
tossing aside the husk,
we lay the ear by for blanching.

The girls yank and pull and tug
at the shucking, laugh, and grasp
a silk or two with the tips of their fingers

and run through the grass.  I boil, blanch, and shock
the loaded cobs, fillet sheets of gold nuggets into the pan,
spoon the bags full of summer’s gifts for winter’s darkness.

I fill these poems with yanking, pulling, tugging,
shucking, laughing, grasping, running,
the sweetness of childhood’s gifts for the winter’s darkness.

A Prayer for Right-Seeing

There are times
it requires the entire will,
every muscle fiber, each heart-string,
to see those squashed banana pieces as jewels,
the bread crumbs as confetti,
the demands as opportunities for love.

There are times
I feel the heart reaching, insisting, pulling
on the harness of right-seeing, yoking
these phyical moments to the ever-lasting instant.

So when the dark douses my light
and plunging, sinking, drowning pride
brings its crooked despair,

breathe for me
and turn my eyes to the sky,
let the water recede
and the salt dry up the pity.

There are times
I feel the heart reaching, insisting, pulling
on the harness of right-seeing, yoking
these physical moments to the ever-lasting instant.

Remind me my image is yours.
I am made for the unconditionality of love,
the humility of Christ.