On Meditation May 27, 2008

It’s been a while since I meditated, but after being sick, I craved (craved??) a sitting-still session. I try to get up early for yoga but haven’t for a few days, so today I thought I’d do some. Got to my mat and just wanted to sit still.

It was really nice. I tucked a bit of mat under my tailbone so I’d last in the cross-legged position, and decided to count breaths, backwards from 10. This is a nice relaxed way to notice when my mind wanders, which it did a bit. But the overriding experience was calm, and my focus seemed to be around heart / solar plexus.

I was probably there for 10 minutes or so, by which time one foot was asleep… Twice I even brought my mind back from the distraction of physical discomfort – unusual for me. Did a really gentle bit of yoga.

Conclusion: Meditation is all it’s cracked up to be. Right time of day can help a lot. Morning is good, but not so early you nod off sitting up (I’m talking from experience). Try it sometime. It’s like a mini-holiday from EVERYTHING, including your own thoughts; and you can be there instantly, at a price even Ryanair can’t beat.

On Tao May 27, 2008

Tao: the unconditional and unknowable source and guiding principle of all reality as conceived by Taoists.

The process of nature by which all things change and which is to be followed for a life of harmony.

often not capitalized : the path of virtuous conduct as conceived by Confucians

often not capitalized : the art or skill of doing something in harmony with the essential nature of the thing [the Tao of archery, or the Tao of vacuum cleaning]

That’s why I like tao. There’s a certain friendliness to working “in harmony with the essential nature of the thing.” Of course, if you don’t know the nature of the thing, you might need a good manual: See “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” for an exposition on the different types of people: those like me, or my sister, who prefer a sort of “romantic” notion of how things work (they just should, and if they don’t, somebody should fix them, yesterday); and those who are interested [and may I add "capable"] of knowing the intricacies, the inner workings of the thing (like my husband, or my sister’s husband).

The Tao, in the broadest sense, is the way the universe functions, the path [Chin. tao=path] taken by natural events. It is characterized by spontaneous creativity and by regular alternations of phenomena (such as day following night) that proceed without effort. Effortless action may be illustrated by the conduct of water, which unresistingly accepts the lowest level and yet wears away the hardest substance. Human beings, following the Tao, must abjure all striving. The ideal state of being, fully attainable only by mystical contemplation, is simplicity and freedom from desire, comparable to that of an infant or an “uncarved block.” (from www.bartleby.com/65/ta/Taoism.html)

If you’re stressed, do something serene, like sit in a church or visit a museum or have lunch alone under a tree. Why are you stressed? Can you dump something from your schedule, or is it deeper? Did you mistakenly accumulate the wrong priorities? How can you shift them back? If you think about what would make your life more harmonious, you’re heading in the tao direction.

Age is in the mind May 22, 2008

Today I saw a blog that gave some basic tips on how to live longer. Very sensible – cultivate family relations, have healthy living habits, and have a purpose in life. Interestingly, stress was not mentioned. Interesting because stress is supposed to be at the root of other fatal diseases – heart conditions, for example.

I went for a long, slow run in the rain today, and felt physically tired (it’s heavy weather and my legs felt heavy too). I got home and lit the stove, and have been feeling emotionally tired ever since. Old. Tired and old. This is not good – anyone who’s seen the documentary film “What the Bleep do we Know?” will realize how much our own thoughts affect our health. I don’t want to be old!

I phoned my sister in law to see how frustrated she is at the moment, waiting on the Canadian embassy in Beijing to finalise her student visa. A long and frustrating story! One result is that she and her husband (myh brother) are a bit stuck for ideas. If the visa doesn’t come through that scuppers their whole year. But, I sugested, isn’t that just another sort of opportunity? It’s difficult to see it that way when you’re banging your head against a thick, red-taped embassy wall.

During the conversation (where their year gets scuppered), age came up – are we too old to go back to school? What’s the right age to have children and what age is too risky? I’m older than they are, so am I too old to be venturing into reading law and trying a few exams? The thing is, if you decide you’re too old to start something, eventually you’ll figure you’re too old to start anything – including getting out of bed. My Mom takes that one quite literally – she makes sure to be up early each morning so she doesn’t waft around in life, now that her children are all grown up and she doesn’t have to be responsible for others.

Getting old can’t be staved off by Botox or facelifts, only by attitude. It would be foolish to say physical ageing doesn’t affect our attitude, though. Of course, if you suffer from arthritis or angina or blood pressure problems, that will affect your level of activity, which can be a bit of a catch-22, since and an active life helps produce the right brain chemicals (serotonin, for example, is produced during sustained exercise) to make you feel happier.

Yoga gives me a positive catch-22: My motivation for keeping up my practice derives partly from the knowledge that if, at age 70 or 80 I can still touch my toes, lie comfortably on my tummy, sit cross-legged and just maybe enjoy a shoulderstand or headstand, I’ll be physically independent. If I’m physically independent, I’ll be active, and will therefore probably have a sense of purpose to my life, since I’ll have the capacity to do stuff. So even if I drop dead of a heart attack some day, I’ll have lived well all the way through.

Ah, me and my plans. As John Lennon put it: life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. Just carpe diem, baby.

The Tao of Too Much Driving May 19, 2008

How to make lots of driving harmonious with my existence? Listen to the children.

It’s guilt-tripping to drive so much, knowing about the carbon footprint we’re creating for ourselves… However, our children are in schools 1/2 hour away, and the buses are so badly coordinated that we’d end up on the road more rather than less trying to catch different buses at different times. So this year my husband and I decided to share share the school runs and drive all the way to school each day.

Last week I had collected my five-year-old and he had many interesting observations. Here are two (accompanied by emphatic chubby-5-year-old hand gestures):

Doing nothing makes me tired, but doing something makes me un-tired. … Eating is something that I do that doesn’t make me tired. [followed without pause by:]

I know what cow poos look like. (Oh?) They’re greenish brownish. (How do you know that?) I went into the cow field once [pause, to see if I'll reprimand for going without permission into the cow field]… and I saw the big brownish but with greenish … stuff… sort of greenish brownish poos. (I see.)

There was more… I’ll have to take notes. This is our 4th child and I don’t seem to tire of their unique observations. My dad’s favourite is “empty puddles”. That’s what potholes were to my daughter some years ago. My niece, aged 4, hand out to feel the rain drops beginning to fall, said “I can smell the rain.” In French, “sens” (“Je sens la pluie”) can be smell or feel, and my niece was learning both, from each parent. The translation to English was priceless. (Of course, you can smell rain too, but I’m quite sure she meant “feel” the rain drops on her hand).

Listening to the older children brings me up to speed on the latest crude & rude school yard sayings as well as all the lyrics to Avril and Killers songs. Aren’t I lucky.

The Real Cinderella Story: How to be Happy Ever After May 13, 2008

All you need is an attitude adjustment. I say “all” as though it were that simple. Ha!

Here’s a story about attitude adjustment: Girl grows up in middle-class family dreaming Cinderella dreams. Rich handsome prince will sweep her off to a better life.

Princes pending, girl goes off to Asia to at least pursue a career. Girl grows into woman, marries adorable man, has beautiful children… and moves away from it all, to organic farming and poor cash flow. Rage ensues (cue orchestral cresendos, storm whipping up, villain’s black magic gathering power). But as the proverbial sun comes up (or in this case, light goes on in woman’s head), it occurs to her that even if Versace is no longer on the menu and she is doomed to read about billionaires on their yachts, rich girls in Jimmy Choos, and the rise of Botox every time she picks up a glossy, life is still beautiful. As the light grows brighter, it occurs to her that possibly… can it be?… life is MORE beautiful than before. Yachts, Jimmy Choos and Botox-free is actually NOT a punishment. Adorable husband and beautiful children is a great gift.

Pretty boring ending, eh? I’ll have to work on it. Needs glitz, glass slippers and all that. Or maybe the readers, the whole human race of readers, will have a light go on in their head, and this ending will turn out to be the best there is.

cinderella; or, the tao of housecleaning May 12, 2008

Hands up who likes housework! … anybody? …

I once read that doing housework can actually give you the blues. I’ve found a solution. It’s the old “exam cram” type approach. Step 1: Don’t do any until you have to. Step 2: Prioritise for OPTIMUM RESULTS! None of this whole-house nonsense, there’s never time.

The babysitter was coming on Saturday. An unusual event in itself, that we were going out. Spider webs hung in every corner of the house. You may find that hard to believe if you’re at all house-proud, yet it is no exaggeration. In my defence, may I note that we live in an old house with an established spider population, so they’re quick off the mark with the webs. Plus it’s baby-spider season so they’re in a population boom.

I thought I’d have all of Saturday to dust, scrub and polish. Instead, I had to take my children to their riding lesson. That was the morning gone. Luckily I’ve established a bit of a cleaning routine with the children: every Saturday the older ones alternate between vacuum their room and cleaning the bathroom. 2 rooms down, 4 to go.

I had to prioritise and work fast. Kitchen and dining room were a must, because dear babysitter likes to sit near the stove and read with a cup of tea after the children are gone to bed. A lot of odds seem to collect in our kitchen, from bills waiting to be filed to empty jars waiting to be recycled. Cobwebs were brushed upstairs and down, then kitchen scrubbed, then dining room stove scrubbed, then the hoover came out. Downstairs bathroom was done last (nothing like a fresh white towel to say “I just cleaned the bathroom!) In 3 hours I’d made 4 rooms + stairwell look cared for.

Now it was time for the fairy godmother to work her magic (that was as daunting as the cleaning itself, but eventually I ended up with a bit of gloss and polish about me, presentable for a big bash of a birthday party!) In a Beckam-esque coincidence (I swear!) my husband and I happened to dress in navy and pink.

Of course, this still leaves the entire upstairs in dire need of a clean, and the sitting room needs to be done for Wednesday, when I have a yoga friend coming over. But as I sit in the dining room typing away now, the sunbeams haven’t any dust sparkling and dancing in them. I’m sorted for… well, at least six months: as Joan Rivers said, “I hate housework. You make the beds, you do the dishes, and six months later you have to do it all again.” Hear hear.

Nutrition of the soul April 28, 2008

As a parent I am keenly aware of nutrition for our children, especially as we’re vegetarian. Then there’s the feeding of the mind, which can’t just be left to schools (and my home-schooling friends would say it shouldn’t be put in the hands of the schools at all, for best results!). We try to teach bits at home, from table manners (social) to piano scales (cultural) to how to mow the lawn or plant carrots (natural), as you do.

Feeding the soul is tricky. It requires my time. I haven’t got much time. But here are a couple of rules of thumb to make best use of little time.

Listen. If you don’t, it could take a lot of your time. If the child – say, bouncy 8 year old – starts babbling on about some incident at school, with far too many details that are not relevant to the point, listen by repeating back the main points as s/he goes along. They’ll keep focussed on the story and you’ll get to the point before the parsnips burn to the bottom of the pan.

Ask. If the 4-year-old can’t get a word in edge-wise, he’ll start talking A LOT LOUDER to be heard. If you ask him, “what do you think?” or “what did you do at school today?”, everybody is aware that he’s about to speak, and he’ll probably start babbling on too once he’s got the floor, but you can conclude the conversation with a quick summary (“that sounds like a great outdoor time, playing 3 games!” ) or even “that’s great”.

Ask the teen, or you’ll never find out (opposite of 4-year-old who’ll shout it out). Ask about how friends are doing – a great way to get into what’s actually happening at school (the friend will have said/done/been done to even if your teen hasn’t).

Play. Today I spent 10 minutes watching a gymnastics video and getting 2 of my 3 gymnast children to try a couple of artistic moves. Usually they moan about “extra” work of any kind, yet they seemed quite interested and enthusiastic about it this time. On Saturday I spent about 8 minutes demonstrating my wondrous (actually quite limited, but to the kids, wondrous) basketball ball handling skills. I’m too lazy to keep going for very long (and as mentioned I don’t have much time) but just this short period got them going for about 45 minutes – and from there they went onto the lawn to play badminton. Usually they fight on Saturday. It’s like a Saturday routine: Get up extra early because we don’t have to, watch TV before parents make us turn it off, fight.

Listen, ask, ask, play. All for short but focussed periods of time. Eventually, they’ll all get along, grow up, earn a living, be happy, and take care of their wondrous parents. Well, one can dream, can’t one?

The tao of scrubbing pots April 24, 2008

Watching children is a treat. Better than TV. And I like my TV: Desperate Housewives (I’m one too but in an entirely different way), Ugly Betty, and of course I was a huge Sex and the City fan, having recently moved to the countryside and loving the whole city/fashion thing, and totally relating to “Sammy Jo” refusing to ever, ever, even consider liking living outside the bright lights and big city, when SJP was trying to like the cabin her boyfriend had. Guess the joke’s on me there! (No but seriously, I have been taken by the countryside, nature is gorgeous and has the best sounds…)

I’m digressing. Here’s the story. I’m immersed in washing up pots and very sticky pans – immersed to the elbows in sudsy water and immersed mentally in that little chatty voice in my head that likes to complain about everything. I’m vaguely aware of my two boys outside the window, playing. It’s funny the way they get so intense about something then drop it like a stone and get totally immersed in something else. A short while ago they were playing hurling (field hockey for any North Americans out there). One of them got hit on the hand. I suggested being more careful. They abandoned hurling. I returned to the sink. When I glanced up, I saw this:

Messy back yard, children’s table that we’d scavenged from a closing-down primary school last year, 2 mini-chairs also scavenged and painted bright red. On the table: a large tupperware and 5 small plastic jars, all filled with a mucky liquid the color of sludge. Ingredients: water, poster paints, ash (we use a wood burning stove), bits of petals, and misc. bits I’d probably rather not know about. 8-year old R vigorously stirring the open tupperware. 4-year-old J tossing a smaller plastic jar into the air and sometimes catching it. The conversation was rapid, the faces highly expressive, the hair tousled, the jeans filthy with grass stains, the faces bright pink, the eyes sparkling.

Interpretation: Magic potions in the making. This was Day 2, so they had been adding ingredients since yesterday’s after-school project began. The tossing was to mix it further (yeah, sure, J, any excuse to throw things). The discussion was about what to put in the potions, why it was necessary to toss the jars up, the required vigor of the stirring (which splashed up onto a towel hanging on the nearby clothesline…).

Magic indeed. I looked down and the pan was clean.

And the little head voice was quiet; it can’t speak while I’m smiling.

things could be worse… April 22, 2008

There’s nothing like a reminder of what other people’s lives are like to bring you up short on your own little complaints. After blogging this morning on my poor auld vacuum cleaner situation, my long-time friend H sent me a link to Sarah MacLachlan’s “World on Fire” video. Sarah’s got her perspective sorted out. Have a look. Thanks, H!

The link is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SkdyRcK9KM

the tao of vacuum cleaners April 22, 2008

It all started with the vacuum cleaner. It wouldn’t suck – which sucked. I checked: the filter. OK. The bag for holes. None. The hose for blockages. Clear. The foot for blockages. Clear. Started the thing again. No vacuum suction. What the…? I cursed the vacuum cleaner (or hoover). But it ignored me. I threatened to have it replaced, but it was complacent. I shut it off and put it away, and it didn’t even sulk. I decided all sorts of things, then: that I am old and useless (when in fact it is the hoover that is old and often useless). That I am fat (I’m 5′6″ and 128 lbs). That I am nearly blind, too hairy, have a terrifyingly unfashionable wardrobe… am a scourge to life on Earth, really.

Then I reflected on my jammed shoulder and neck. I’ve had a crick in my neck for over a month. I decided to see what my Louise Hay book had to say about that. The book popped open to page 140. “STIFFNESS in the body represents stiffness in the mind. Fear makes us cling to old ways, and we find it difficult to be flexible.” So I looked up “neck” on the table of problems + affirmations. Apparently I’m stubborn and inflexible. But that’s a bit vague. Hmmm, I thought, how about my shoulder? Shoulders “represent our ability to carry out experiences in life joyously. We make life a burden by our attitude.” BINGO! I make life a burden by my attitude. Everything’s a problem for me. What should I do?

Well, neck rolls and shoulder drops, for a start. And myrrh and eucalyptus baths – many, long, hot. And a good night’s sleep and some vitamin C. Deepak Chopra suggests that we can cure ourselves of cancer if we reflect on what we need to change within ourselves. I wonder if I can cure myself of my lousy attitude.

I’ll keep you posted!