Yoga on the Mountain Hike

to Hemphill Bald, on Cataloochee Ranch in Maggie Valley

with Kimberly Drye from Lighten Up Yoga
and Michelle Pugliese, from the Southern Appalachian Highland Conservancy
Oct. 2 meet at Cataloochee 11 am
Please RSVP to Rich Pryer rich@appalachian.org or 828-253-0095 ext 205 by Sept 30th!
Cost is free to SAHC members and $10 for non-members


Michelle and I led one of these Yoga on the Mountain events in June to the Hghlands of Roan. The event was popular and there was great feedback, so we have decided to do it again. The trip in June was refreshing and inspiring. It is always a beautiful thing to be able to practice yoga outside, but especially when surrounded by butterflies and wildflowers in a green and sunny meadow.

I can only imagine how awe-inspiring this next trip will be right as the leaves have begun to change. Try to come if you can. Please contact me about carpooling from Asheville if a ride is a concern. The more the merrier, it is not a strenous hike and all experienced and inexperienced yogis are welcome!

Here are some pictures from the last event in June:

In the kitchen with kitchari

Ayurveda believes that all healing begins in the digestive tract, and kitchari is a special porridge made from rice and mungbeans that is used to purify the digestive tract and cleanse the body of toxins. Kitchari provides solid nourishment while allowing the body to devote energy to healing. So on my short four day quest for rejuvenation and revival, I am on a kitchari diet.

Tonight I am making a big batch, alone and quiet in my kitchen. I take pleasure in the smells of the spices, the beauty and color of the vegetables I can add. I am comforted by the warmth of the porridge, but also by the warm feeling I get by doing something for myself...it feels good to take care of myself. It feels good to be by myself.

I'm aiming for solitude during this period in hopes of allowing myself to steep in reflection.

My friend, Amber, quoted to me today, "Close both eyes so you can see through your third."It seems so necessary right now for me to remove myself from the world, to turn inward. In the same sense, I am removing the rest of the world from my diet.

I hope as the world clears itself around me, the clearest and rightest course of action will become clear in my mind. The quest for purity of mind begins alone and quiet in my kitchen.

Forbes on Yoga

http://www.forbes.com/sites/alicegwalton/2011/09/07/where-is-yoga-headed-these-days-the-experts-discuss-its-evolution-and-future/

Check out this article about the future of yoga in Forbes magazine. I like this quote,

"There's this whole other dimension-- yoga offers a nonsectarian spirituality that can be powerfully useful in cross-cultural communication. This hasn't quite come to fruition. It's still waiting to happen. But it will."

and this one,

"Yoga gets you to release control and to get in touch with your vulnerabilities...It gets you out of head and into heart. That doen't mean that life is going to be all strawberries and unicorns and rainbows. Yoga makes you aware and opens you up to love in a way that you never knew was possible."

Brew Ha-Ha

There is something so medievel feeling about boiling your own herbs. Especially when they look like this. This stuff tastes terrible, it better be doing some kind of magic.

Avian

You were so appropriately named, Robin.
Your bones so delicate and frail.
Avian.

How you quivered
beneath the hands that tried to still you.

You were so afraid to fly.
We thought your wings were broken.

You spent your nights flailing against the bars of your cage,
a flimsy cage of a failing marriage,
of daughters who were never your own.

A cage you constructed yourself--
a mild attempt to keep yourself sane.

All along, the door of your cage was wide open.
You knew it--that is what made you most afraid.

I sat in your cage with you--
night after night.

Your hands I remember more than your face.
Watching the lit cigarette between those long graceful fingers--
one after the other,
each a tiny measure of time.

I wish I could have closed the cage door.

Beauty is a Gift

All that I understand of my beauty you gave to me.
It was you who saw it first.
It was you who showed it to me every day
until I could see it for myself.

You were sitting at the table,
a plastic tablecloth and cheap placemats
all matching and lined up evenly on the table.
You reached for me as I ran past you.
I was flushed, sweaty from playing kickball in the yard
with all my neighborhood friends.
I laughed and tried to wiggle away--
but you pulled me closer,
backwards over your lap.

"You are so beautiful--
your face, your features, your hair,
you are so beautiful."
I stopped laughing.
How serious you would get sometimes.
You would insist on these moments--
on stopping everything
to tell me something as clearly as you could,
as best you understood.

You were my biggest fan for so many years-
and I was yours.
You were crazy and we knew it,
but you were the only one, besides Jenn,
to listen to my fears without laughing.

I remember your naked body.
Your small breasts and large dark areolas.
Your long torso and narrow hips.
How I would look down at my own and compare.

Sometimes when I look at my naked self
in the mirror today
I still compare my shape to yours.
And I still hear your words,
"You are so beautiful."

We Are All Kids At Play

"Your mother believed in playing" my grandmother said on my visit home last weekend. It brought tears to my eyes-- the faint memory of my mother's smile, the time she made snow angels with my sister and me in the backyard, a couple months before her death. I wonder if she somehow sensed how short her life would be? She died at the age I am now, 28.

I want to be remembered this way also. I'm taking a few days off work to try to get a grip on what really matters. I'm trying to slow down. I know I can do more by doing less. Everything is meaningless without focus and intention behind it and lately so much of what I do feels meaningless. So the next few days of meditation and intention are dedicated to you, Mom. Teach me how to play again.