abundance – Generous Wisdom

Expectations and Abundance

Happy July, Friends.

Just a reminder that there are no yoga classes scheduled for July. Instead, look for times throughout your days and weeks when you can savor a practice of postures, breath work, mindfulness, and relaxation. Maybe you won’t find time for all of these at once, but perhaps some combination of these practices, or even just one. A yoga practice all your own could even emerge from an effort to be curious about how yoga can be folded into your daily life.

I’m planning to be spontaneous with my yoga practice and go with the flow of my family’s mid-summer rhythm, which isn’t very clear. It might mean I’ll practice at dawn or at mid-day nap time, in the evening, or after everyone’s tucked into bed. Most likely, I’ll practice in the midst of some beautiful chaos. And surely there will be days in which I don’t have a formal practice at all.

I’ve recently enjoyed a 30-day meditation immersion and plan to keep on meditating, in one way or another, forever. Because of this I’m taking some of the lovely lessons I’ve learned into the future and am currently practicing not allowing “the ‘perfect’ to be the enemy of the good.” I’m also just off a week of exchanging gratitude emails with a friend, which has been enlightening. I’ve realized that at times I compare myself to others and can become negative and self-pitying. Also, when I harbor a sense of lack, whether in reference to things, money, or time, I tend to function from a state of frantic grasping. However, in times when I focus on the good, the here and now, the wealth of joys at my fingertips, I am awash with restfulness and ease.

So, I declare July to be the month of letting go of expectations and the month of embracing abundance. Care to join me? Write me an email and let me know.

Happy Practicing!

The Catholic Yogi

amysecrist6@gmail.com

Snowskeletons

Glowing in the moonlight,
hollowing, their bulk shriveling
in the melting temperatures,
their now blank faces staring
into nothing, hats sinking,
scarves sagging, skinny necks
and empty shoulders speak of scarcity.
Now their stickarms point downward from their bellies.
Collecting in the sunlight,
sparkling, shrouds of fresh snow
in the freezing temperatures,
their ice bones take on a ghostly radiance
and we see through them from one side
to the other, without eyes,
without nose, without mouth,
their undistractedness speaks of focus.
Now the blank face of winter points to abundance.

Seeing Love

Squished banana adornes the counter,
turning formica to quartz,
sparkling, innocence like the eyes of infants.

A vase is filled,
broccoli blooms buttery
and the cilantro bolts to corriander,
tiny white flowers like lace.
Stalks of swiss chard, their deep red veins
and ruffling green leaves stand supportive
at the bouquet’s back
and the mint waits to be noticed.

Headed for laundry, I pass through the kitchen,
wipe up the abandoned fruit
and wonder about the remaining scent unseen.

When my babies are grown, explorers in the wild world,
how will I see love?

Abundance surrounds
the cut herbs and harvested vegetables
like an aura in the full kitchen.
When the empty bedrooms gape,
radical gratitude must be my first nature.
Then the absence will be as abundance,
the overflow of my blessing cup.