Altar for Grandmother

This week at E's school, the older kids displayed their Day of the Dead Altars; Tombstone sized collections of artifacts representing a dead love ones life. There were many pictures of WWII veterans along with hand made hats, playing cards, scratch tickets, menorah's and crosses, Oreos and snickers (favorite foods). It was hard to pass by these alters without remembering our own losses and the detritus which remind us of them

Altar for Grandmother: For my grandmother's alter, there would be plastic curlers and bobby pins, a large can of hair spray, the girdles she wore for most of her life, washed each night, and then hung to dry on the shower curtain rod. I would place a large black pocket book right in the middle of the display; the suitcase sized one filled with lipstick, sen sen, gum, tissues, scissors and nail cutters, change and bills, pens, paper and ruler, perfume, nail polish, an extra pair of underwear and nylons, address book, rosary beads (two pair), wooden and silver crosses, pears, apples, rolls from the diner that went uneaten, sugar packets, as well, and ketchup in packages. There would also be three deck's of cards, poker chips and bingo chips, coupons, newspaper circulars, a wrench, a knife or two, a screw driver, and three bottles of orange soda.

The pocket book, which weighed at least 20 pounds, would enable two adults and a child to survive a flood, snow storm, typhoon or a fortnight lost in an urban jungle. Grandmother was well prepared if anything.

On her alter, I would also include a package of white flour and sugar, olive oil, garlic and eggplants, a can of tomato past, and onions for the cooking she did every day and a picture of my grandfather with whom she spent a lifetime Also, I would put the two wrist watches she wore - one on each wrist - during her ten year stint in the nursing home. There would be the dentures she abhorred but kept in the house dress pocket in case they were needed for a particularly tough piece of meat or unexpected company and the witch hazel, vinegar, aspirin, and aloe which could cure all but the most persistent of viruses, aches and sprains. All of these things I would sit on the orange and brown afghan she crocheted each evening while watching the 11 O'clock news.

Prayers for Angel Baby

What part of your body do you despise? Is it the back of the eyes during a migraine, the thick belly than hangs over the belt, the scar that runs the length of the torso? What would it take for you to love each limb, organ, twitching ligament in its imperfect entirety? What would it mean to be so beloved and appreciated by yourself?

Angel Baby undergoes brain surgery tomorrow. The skull, not quite large enough, needs rebuilding to make room for her growing brain. Angel Baby has blue eyes that shine with laughter and halo of golden hair to frame a soft face. She can be sensitive and cares very much what others think of her, whether or not she is beloved, good enough, deserving, beautiful (And who of us do not have such cares?)

Yes, I want to tell her as if my words could make her know her worth, you are quite beautiful. Tomorrow, mother and father will sit in the waiting room at Children's Hospital with all the others waiting for children to emerge intact from procedures that no child should have to endure. It is Angel Baby's second surgery. The first was before she could walk. Back then, Mother sat in the chair meditating as she waited a lifetime for the surgery to be over. In the waiting and meditation, mother entered the river of fear but was not swept away. After the current tore at her heart and pulled her thrashing underneath, she emerged gasping for breath no longer alone but connected all those who had sat before her in that same chair.

I imagine the wildest of geese will hold Angel Baby while she sleeps, transporting her to a soft sweet place and then back again into mother and father's arms. She will know her beauty (my prayer for her), even as her face swells and aches and bandages cover her shaved head, through our love.

What compassion can you find in your own heart to know your beauty, wholeness, connection to all who have sat in this chair before you?

My Undoing

In order to practice asana (yoga poses) as a meditative path, you'll need to learn how to let go of habitual responses to physical and mental distractions during practice. This will allow you to shed unnecessary effort in each pose, which will ultimately lead you to the feeling of effortless effort. Developing effortless effort transforms your practice of asana from mere exercise into a yogic journey toward absorption into your true infinite Self. John Schumacher

I practice my own undoing early each morning before the sun comes up, the dog has been walked, the child fed. Yoga does my undoing through the release at the root of the tongue, the grip of the right ribs, the letting of breath into the torque of the left shoulders. Undoing the knots of resistance to (inevitable) change, uncertainty, loss, and kindness, allows the breath to flow more deeply in the lungs, makes me aware of space in the body, peels back layers of self-doubt, regret, and shame encrusting the Soul. In that final back bend of the morning, when the sky is taking up a steely light, I let loose the birds from my chest and join them in song and flight.

Know Your Hunger

If I do not know my hunger, how can I feed myself? If I do not know my emptiness, how can I know love? If I do not know my illness, how can I heal? There, in the quiet darkness, is where I find myself, my compass, my knowing, which shows me what to do next.