Inhale to Prepare

a family practice

Kids Say The Deepest Things

This post is written by my friend and fellow Grounded teacher, Sedef Dion. Does teaching yoga to little ones matter? read on...

“How is meeting President Obama related to what you have been learning in Yoga? “ These kids are 3 and 4 years old and their answers blew my mind, put a smile on my face and no doubt melted my heart. These are some of their responses. 

 “He is tall and strong like a mountain.”

 “He stops and breathes when he talks.”

 “He stands strong.”

 “His heart is open.”  Then I said “please tell me what makes you think that?” The little boy who is 4 said, “Because Ms. S. (that’s me J), his shoulders are back and that keeps the heart open.”

A few other amazing answers from these children are “His words are clear.”

“He is nice to every body because his heart is open.”

“His heart is open so he shares his light with everybody.”

“He is happy when he sits because he sits up straight and lifts his heart.”

“He has power in his belly.”

 

 

 

earth wild and free

oh urban cemetary

wild and free

are you pleased we've come to play even on this cold, wet day?

janet

 

thanks garance doré for sharing. 

these days

fall. how we love your changes.

i've loved you so long

mr. O 1997

we sat under an old thorn-tree

and talked away the night,

told all that had been said or done

since first we saw the light.

and when we talked of growing up

knew that we'd halved a soul

and fell the one in t'other's arms

that we might make it whole...

 

w.b.yeats

a long, long time ago

5 September 1998

that summer before we were wed i played a certain cassette tape over and over. my friend Danielle recorded it, a tether for my young wild love, with Aretha Franklin's Love Songs on one side and Songs of Leonard Cohen on the other. pretty sure i wore it out. 

i wanna be what he wants when he wants it and whenever he needs it.  when it comes to feeling love starved i'll be there to feed it. lovin him a little bit more each day, turns me right on when i hear him say...

each of our longing met its match in the other. like getting picked for a team in dodge ball. by the cute guy. and walking off the field into the woods to make your own rules, your own games, while the others watched, envying your freedom. he melted my heart. became my drug of choice. our union absolved everything that had come before. our world would be perfect and enduring. sanctified and boundless, we shone so fucking bright. 

sharing

i am  and always have been a huge fan of mr. r.   even when the other kids thought he was lame.   my brother thought mr. r. was lame.  motivated to be well-liked, it mattered-- a lot--  to me what other kids thought.  but when it came to mr. r i didn't care.  and i think i took a fair amount of shit for for liking a "baby show." unfazed, i sat in front of the set, rapt, answering all his questions, singing along, and smoothing out my rough edges in the orbit of his thoughtfulness.  i loved that guy.  and i felt he loved me too.  totally.  when i watched this remix video all the love came back-- that feeling of being really and truly seen.  the good parts and the not so good parts.  mr. r. was not afraid of the dark.  and to paraphrase one youtube viewer, it's ok if you don't like mr. rogers; he would still love you. 

 

 

 

mother. wild and free.

when i was little my mother moved at a frenetic pace.  she was a woman of her time, that is to say, influenced by feminism and eager to prove herself strong, worthy, competant.  she raced and chased and siezed; she went after what she wanted for us (expensive early education, lessons and clubs and enrichment opportunities in every free moment).  and just when the racing and chasing was making us all dizzy, my mother could stop it all, spear a moment in time with a magical plan, and enchant us with her softness, independance, and sense of adventure.  if her daily life was modern, frenetic and achievement-driven, her pauses were her true signature.  she was Annie Oakley, Bonnie Elizabeth Parker and Laura Ingles Wilder.  in those moments we could all breathe and see one another.  and in those moments she was a mother like no other.  she was wild and free and limitless.  she was fun and fresh and mesmerizing.  this version of my mother was my drug of choice and i had a thirst for her intoxication that left me aching and breathless.  my mother connected me to the natural world,  inspiring me to seek my solace in the earth's steadiness, wildness and freedom.  thank you, mom, for giving me the best parts of you when i needed them most.  thank you for teaching me to stop, breathe, and pause for magic.

 

it's time

just posted on craigslist:

household help sought for family of seven in decatur. or almost-the-Brady Bunch seeking part-time-Alice.  once upon a time, we had it down-- i think. . . at least some of the time there was order and cleanliness, beautifully prepared organic food, hand crafted awesomeness, cuddles and book reading and picnics.  and then sometime during the 5^th baby’s 1^st year the balance majorly shifted.  if there are going to be cuddles and book reading and picnics this mama is going to need some serious help with the house.   looking for someone with an eye for order and a penchant for detail to bring his/her A-game to our home 2-4 hours a day; 5 days/week for routine housekeeping.  be hardworking, on-time and fastidious, and because we will be together so much, please also be fun, sweet, inspiring and honest.  $-- per hour and a whole lotta love, laughs and yummy food in return.  

because these darling children deserve folded laundry.