Susan’s Song of the Week for Jun 1, 2012
June 2, 2012
Song of the week: Coming Back to Life by Pink Floyd
Something shifted for me this week. And the words and music of this song really resonated. Relationships are complex ~ whether they are with another person, a practice, or myself. We are each on our own path and are constantly intersecting with others. And what a sweetness when moments of clarity – shining sun – come through.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVxnNNGjubg
“Coming Back To Life”…
Where were you when I was burned and broken
While the days slipped by from my window watching
Where were you when I was hurt and helpless
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else’s words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun
Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight into the shining sun
Susan’s Song of the Week: May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012
Song of the week: Jack Johnson’s Never Know!
Favorite line: “We’re clever but we’re clueless. We’re just human. Amusing but confusing. We’re trying but where is this all leading. Never Know.”
Ahh, just the one I need this week! EnJOY!
Radical Sabbatical: Don’t Know
May 25, 2012
“Don’t just do something, sit there.” ~ Silvia Boorstein
In April, when I announced that I was taking a sabbatical, and people asked what I was going to do with my time, I said, “I have lots of ideas, but I don’t really know.” “And when are you coming back to teach again?” they’d inquire. “I don’t know,” I’d say.
Kind of a conversation-stopper, that. Say “I don’t know,” a couple of times in a row and it’s like talking to a grouchy adolescent. I wasn’t saying it to be annoying or mysterious. I was saying it because it was the truest thing I could say.
After a little less than a month of Radical Sabbatical-ing, I realize that somewhere in my brain, I had a notion that clarity would come … quickly. That I would know right away what I needed, wanted, was ready to let go of. Ah, it would be glorious to know with angel-singing simplicity what my next steps would be so I could get to the doing of them! As the Indigo Girls sing, “the sweetest part is acting after making a decision.” And I am ready ready ready for that sweetness!
Um. Not so much.
The feeling of “I Don’t Know” has continued, unabated. And I can feel myself getting impatient and uncomfortable with it. Enough already. Let’s figure this puppy out. But it has become obvious to me that if this was something that I could “figure out,” that I would have done it a long time ago. Instead, I need to hang out with I Don’t Know.
So here are a few things I did this week when I Don’t Know poured into my days:
1. Sit – As the title of Sylvia Boorstein’s book so cleverly points out, one of the best things to do when I don’t know what to do is to sit. Get still. Listen. Watch what’s going on. Oh, the monkey mind is incredible and the fidgets both physical and mental are astounding. Yet it helps me somehow to rest in the awareness of the moment and know that I’m okay right now.
2. Write – Following the daily practice of Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way, I write stream-of-consciousness for 15-20 minutes. Just whatever is in my head goes right down my arm, into my pen and out. It feels a bit like a mental flush. Here’s a little excerpt from yesterday:
“I am at a loss and time is slippin into the future. Why aren’t those chickens laying? Why is that chicken limping? Why did I plant that garden so close to the cypress? What to do? How to be? What is next?”
Not great reading, I grant you, but perhaps you can see why it felt good to get it out of my head. Sometimes I also scribble scribble scribble on the page. That feels good, too.
3. Weed – I am my mother’s daughter. I love me some weeding. It’s meditative, it helps the garden and it looks better when I’m done. It’s a way of taking something that is tending toward chaos and reigns it back in. I figure if I can’t do it with my professional life, I might as well do it in the lettuce bed.
4. Help – Yesterday, when my afternoon collapsed in on itself, Frank said he needed some help on a project so (after some unattractive resistance and poutiness) I spent my time doing that. It was unskilled labor, to be sure – pulling carpet staples out of a floor so hardwood can go in – but it felt good to be of service and the repetitive work helped quiet my thoughts. Come to think of it, it was sort of like weeding indoors!
5. Cook – I’m finding great solace in preparing food for my family and friends. I’ve been experimenting with new recipes and preparations (Farro Risotto, anyone?). I’ve delved into a new cookbook (Clean Food! Thanks for lending it, Laura!). And I’ve played with new ingredients (anybody know what to do with kohlrabi??). Both the act of nourishing myself and my dear ones, and the creativity of making a dish are satisfying and easeful to my antsy spirit.
So what do you do when you don’t know what to do? What allows you to dwell in the unknown a little longer when you need to? Is there something that soothes your weary “Do-er”? You have no idea: I would so love to hear about it.
For now, I’ve decided to stick it out with I Don’t Know. I figure the space may do me good, and at the very least, the gardens will look better, and I might find a new favorite recipe.
Susan’s Song of the Week: May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012
Just back from a weekend wedding and lots of driving so I’m a little late on the song this week — and I think it’s worth waiting for. Just before I left I had an amazing conversation with Jamie Catto. Many stunning things were occurred during the conversation not the least of which was realizing that he sang in Faithless, a band whose music I use regularly in Nia! So in Jamie’s honor the song of the week is
Don’t Leave by Faithless (that’s Jamie singing!)
Radical Sabbatical: Love
May 18, 2012
This weekend is a big celebration of love in my family: my cousin is getting married on my sister’s birthday which is two days before my mother’s birthday (which was also my maternal grandmother’s birthday) which is four days before my father’s birthday! We’re all gathering in New York for the first time in a long time to be together and celebrate all the people we are so lucky to have in our lives.
On my Radical Sabbatical, I’ve been reading and exploring a variety of lines of inquiry. Last week, I came across two quotes about love:
“Neurons are not very efficient at getting across information. They are slow – they work a million-times slower than electricity runs in copper wires, they leak signals to their neighbors, and they are probabilistic rather than deterministic. They only do their job some of the time. … This is absolutely central to our humanity. It is absolutely central. It is the reason we have love. The reason we have love is because neurons suck as electrical processors….”
– David Linden, PhD
“Bodhichitta is a Sanskrit word that means ‘noble or awakened heart.’ Just as butter is inherent in milk and oil is inherent in a sesame seed, the soft spot of bodhichitta is inherent in you and me. It is equated, in part, with our ability to love.”
– Pema Chödrön
A neuropsychologist and a Buddhist nun, remind us that love is built-into us: it is who we are. Dr. Linden and Pema Chödrön are both brilliant and it would seem that they are coming at the question of love from hugely different perspectives. And yet they end with the same conclusion: love is our essence.
I just love this: we are love. It’s literally in our cells. I wake up in the morning, feel the cool spring air, hear the birds (those melodious chickens!) and see my beloved beside me and I can feel it. I am love.
Until I stub my toe on the way to the bathroom. And I can’t find my hair brush. And I trip on the sneakers that were left in the living room. And the cat knocks over her water dish. And I think about that uncomfortable conversation last night.
Love may well be my essence and everything, but it feels like I’ve got a good bit of irritation, anger, worry and fear in there, too. If I’m love at my core, why is it that these other feelings are so quick to flood the premises?
Part of what I’m experimenting with on my sabbatical is really paying attention to what is going on in my internal landscape. I’m meditating more regularly. I’ve been choosing to slow down my decision-making process so I can feel what I need or want in the moment. Whether I’m picking the kind of movement I want to do, who I’m spending my time with, or what I’m eating for lunch, I’m doing my best to pay attention to what’s going on in the moment.
And darn barn, people, I’m amazed at how often I’m annoyed or worried or anxious or hoppin’ mad. Even if it’s low grade, background noise, there it is: that nagging tug at my sleeve. Will I have enough time? Would she stop talking to me with that tone? Will he be angry? Why doesn’t she pay more attention and be more thoughtful? Can I do this?
All these clouds in my internal landscape. All these dust bunnies in the corners of my mind. And in the corners of my heart. Because when she talks to me in that tone, for example, I tend to focus on how I want her to be different. When I am focused on her being different, I am disconnected from feeling love as my essence. Which feels crappy.
Metta meditation is a simple practice that serves not just as a reminder of my love-essence, but actually as a way of retraining my nervous system to be more at ease even when I trip on those sneakers. Here is where neuroscience and mindfulness intertwine: where we might see that Dr. Linden and Pema Chödrön’s approaches aren’t so far apart.
“Metta” in Pali is roughly translated to “loving kindness” or “friendliness.” Metta meditation is the practice of repeating four phrases of care and good will, first to the self, then to others. Traditionally, these phrases offer wishes for safety, happiness, health and peace and meditators are encouraged to choose phrases that work well for them. The phrases that I use are:
May I be safe and well.
May I be happy and content.
May I be healthy and strong.
May I be peaceful and at ease.
Metta always begins with the self since if we are rattled or upset, we are unable to offer care to others. From there, the metta is offered to various categories of people, including benefactors (teachers or anyone who has helped us), friends and family, neutral people, and those with whom we have challenges or difficulties.
My experience is that even when I’m feeling strong emotions – resentment, anger, fear – practicing metta meditation (even if it’s while I’m driving or sitting at my desk and not in a more formal sitting session) calms me and brings me back to my center. It softens me and makes me more easeful with myself and others.
Dr. Linden’s contention that human beings have love because neurons suck as electrical processors, frankly, cracks me up. The idea is that because neurons are inefficient, it takes a long time to grow the nervous system of a self-sufficient human. Humans have, by far, the longest dependent childhood of any animal on the planet (in any other species, a five-year-old offspring that isn’t independent is unheard of). Given the long haul of human parenting, the human nervous system needed to cultivate a strong sense of love and care in order to raise a child to adulthood.
The neuroscientist tells us that we are hard-wired for love. And the Buddhist nun tells us that love is in us like butter in milk. Both the research of the scientist and the traditional practices of the nun argue that the connections we make more often, will color our moment-to-moment experience. So if I chew and stew on that which is irritating me, I will strengthen those pathways in my brain. The next time I trip on somebody’s sneakers, I will go quickly to anger and irritation. If, on the other hand, I focus on offering myself and others loving kindness on a regular basis, especially when I’m feeling upset, the next time the sneakers and I collide, I will be more inclined toward patience and ease. Just like anything, what I practice creates my experience. Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit.” I would say, that not just excellence but ease or happiness or love is not an act but a habit.
On a weekend full of celebrations with loved ones, it can be easier to remember that love is at our core. In the energy of excitement of a wedding, we can see that love is really all we are. And after a few hours in high heels, I could imagine myself going down the road toward cranky. The work of Dr. Linden and Pema Chödrön reminds me to come back to that which is my essence: the loving-kindness that I am. When I do that, I can kick off my heels and dance.
Susan’s song of the week: May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012
First full week of the Radical Sabbatical! The song of the week is
Fly Like an Eagle as covered by Seal…
Time keeps on slippin’, y’all.
Radical Sabbatical: Time
May 11, 2012
Clock by Linda Pastan
Sometimes it really upsets me—
the way the clock’s hands keep moving,
even when I’m just sitting here
not doing anything at all,
not even thinking about anything
except, right now, about that clock
and how it can’t keep its hands still.
Even in the dark I picture it, and all
its brother and sister clocks and watches,
even sundials, all those compulsive timepieces
whose only purpose seems to be
to hurry me out of this world.
“Clock” by Linda Pastan from Traveling Light. © Norton, 2010.
—–
Radical Sabbatical. Eleven days in. All the time in the world, right? No classes to teach. No schedule to speak of. And yet time is all I seem to be able to think about. How am I using it? What’s the best thing to spend it on? Where the hell is it all going?
I know that the calendar and the clock are human constructs. I know that 8:20am does not really exist. I know that these organizations of time were created by businesses to get us all coordinated. The Gregorian calendar that we follow today was created by the Romans to facilitate tax collection. At exactly noon on November 18, 1883, American and Canadian railroads began using four continental time zones to end the confusion of dealing with thousands of local times. Clock and calendar were created so money arrived regularly into the coffers and we’d all be waiting on the platform when the train came. These time-measuring constructs began society’s movement away from connecting to Nature for understanding time and toward a rigid connection to the clock. (A book I’ve had on my list for a while about time is called Turn and Jump by Howard Mansfield – has anyone read it?) Even with this knowledge and with a now flexible schedule that would allow me to be more pliable with my time, I still find myself chained to, fixated on, obsessed by the clock and the calendar. My schedule for the day, the week, the month, the summer: What will I do with my time and how can I stop myself from wasting a precious moment? I know calendar- and clock-time is manmade and yet my mind gravitates toward the measurability and clarity of it. My mind loves standard time, but the truth is, I don’t really understand it.
In Nia we talk about Natural Time. Natural Time is based on a 13-moon calendar that is connected the natural cycles of the earth. The Natural Time calendar is an intricate system of cycles and patterns that offers a unique signature for every day and the energies that move it. I’ve been looking at and fascinated by the Natural Time calendar for years (you can find more information here http://www.13moon.com/) and still much of its wisdom eludes me. I love the colors and patterns and I relax when I connect to it. During my sabbatical so far, I’ve been reading a bit about the signature of each day and drawing the glyph that represents it. My body loves Natural time, but the truth is, I don’t really understand it.
Rick Hanson, a neuropsychologist and Buddhist, wrote in his Just One Thing newsletter this week (which is awesome and I recommend highly and you can find it here http://www.rickhanson.net/writings/just-one-thing) about living in Now. He writes,
No one – not even the greatest scientists and philosophers in the world – knows exactly what this present moment is. No one knows how its contents vanish the instant they arise, yet somehow last long enough to be the causes of the next instant. Yet we live in this mystery and take it for granted as we sip a cup of coffee, ride the bus, or put the kids to bed.
I’d never thought about the present moment, the Now, that way. And when I do, it bends my brain. Dr. Hanson continues,
There’s a profound and miraculous mystery right under our noses: this instant of now has no duration at all, yet somehow it contains all the causes from the past that are creating the future. Everything arising to become this moment vanishes beneath our feet as the next moment wells up. Since it’s always now, now is eternal. (See the listing in the Helpful Links menu at the right for Dr. Hanson’s complete posting.)
As I sit in my Radical Sabbatical room, with my fingers on my keyboard, I feel myself relax into the Now. The inexpressible, eternal Now. As soon as I think about it, attempt to analyze it, get attached to it or push it away, I’m no longer in it. Like nailing Jello to a wall. My spirit loves Now but the truth is, I really don’t understand it.
This week, I’ve been playing with all three: standard time, Natural Time and Now. I find myself moving from one paradigm of time to another. I’m doing my best to stay in the sensation of flowing and surfing what is happening right now and then letting it move past. My invitation this week is to spend some time contemplating your relationship to time: how do you sense it? Are you obsessed by it? Do you feel imprisoned by it? Do you have a way of flowing with it? I’d love to hear.
For this moment, I’ll just sense the cool May breeze blowing the hair off my face and the touch of these keys and see if I can just leave it at that.
Susan’s Song of the Week: May 5 2012
May 5, 2012
Hello from Sabbatical Land! In place of my playlists for the week, I’ll be offering a song of the week. And this week, it’s:
Twinkle Berry ‘The Belly Dancing Chicken’ by Brent Lewis / Drum Sex
Have a little listen to it:
Making Miracles
May 4, 2012
What’s a miracle? An extraordinary event that is ascribed to a supernatural or divine cause? I think the human body is an amazing miracle, but it is far from extraordinary ~ billions of them are walking around everywhere. Something impossible or at the very least, highly unlikely? Flying an airplane into a building seems to me to be damn close to impossible, but when it happened, no one I knew thought it was a miracle.
In her book, Here If You Need Me, Kate Braestrup posits that the difference between any old random event and a miracle is gratitude. The doctor who arrives at the accident just at the right moment: I’m grateful, and it’s a miracle. The seeds that I planted last month that are now sprouting greens and garlic: I’m thankful (and amazed by them), so it’s a miracle. The good fortune to be able to do something much desired and needed (say, like taking a sabbatical): my gratitude makes it miraculous.
This week, I taught my last class before my summer sabbatical, was given a lovely send-off by team mates and Nia practioners, and I’ve started playing with creating the form and freedom of the next few months. This week, I’ve been inundated with miracles — the people I get to dance and work and play with, the garden I get to experiment in, the music and words and colors I hear and read and see – for all of it, I’m deeply grateful and I am aware of the miraculousness of it all.
In March, when I was leading the Nourishment Retreat*, I kept finding myself knee-deep in miracle. We did a simple taste meditation one morning and I was struck by how that one cashew nut connected me with not just hundreds of people (from farmers, field hands and truck drivers, to wholesalers and the Whole Foods guy who stocks the bulk containers), but with Nature (the sun and rain and soil that made that one nut possible) and the mystery of life (I mean, how DOES a plant grow and how does that nut become part of me when I eat it?). Sitting in that meditation, I felt filled up with amazement and wonder and gratitude for that durn cashew nut, because no matter how mundane it might be, in my book, it’s still a miracle.
This first week of sabbatical, it’s been easy for me to remember how grateful I am and how miraculous my life and the world is. That can be far more challenging when life feels busy and overwhelming or I’m feeling bruised and battered in body, mind or emotion. My invitation today is to connect with something that you are grateful for and notice that by that very act, you are making a miracle.
Even if it’s the miracle of a cashew nut, I find that the shift in perspective makes a world of difference.
As I launch into my summer sabbatical, I leave you with a poem of blessing that I read at the end of my last class. May you be safe and well, happy and content, healthy and strong, peaceful and at ease.
Beannacht — A Blessing — by John O’Donohue
On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.
And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The gray window
And the ghost of loss
Gets in to you,
May a flock of colors,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
In the curach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
And may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.
* If you missed the Nourishment Retreat in March or if you went and loved it and would like to experience the “summer version,” please join Rebecca George and Heather Wetzel and me for A Day of Nourishment on July 28! Click here for all the details and register before May 15 for the best price!
Susan’s Nia Playlists April 23-30, 2012
April 30, 2012
The playlists from my last week of classes before my Summer Sabbatical. I’ll continue to send the music I’m listening to! And let me know what YOU’RE listening to! xo Susan
Monday, April 23, 2012, 1045am ~ Come to the Edge
Yulunga [Spirit Dance] 6:56 Dead Can Dance
Little Britain 5:15 Dreadzone
Sun Is Shining (Out Of Sight Remix) 7:30 ReUnited
Dish 6:42 Deep Dive Corp.
Spellbound 5:43 Rae & Christian
Star Power (Rui Da Silva Remix) 7:56 City Reverb
Pemulwuy 5:32 James Asher
Release [Remix] 5:31 Afro Celt Sound System
Deep Inside 5:06 Kid Beyond
Devorzhum 6:13 Dead Can Dance
Wednesday, April 25, 2012, 1045am ~ Trust Your Body, Trust Yourself
(Sting and Eric Clapton by request for Pat Taylor’s birthday!)
A Thousand Years 5:58 Sting
Fields of Gold 3:44 Sting
Perfect Love… Gone Wrong 5:24 Sting
After the Rain Has Fallen 5:03 Sting
Never Coming Home 5:00 Sting
After Midnight 3:09 Eric Clapton
Tulsa Time 4:01 Eric Clapton
Hold On! I’m Comin’ 6:20 Eric Clapton & B.B. King
Brand New Day 6:20 Sting
Hoochie Coochie Man 3:14 Eric Clapton
Stolen Car 3:58 Sting
Let It Grow 4:56 Eric Clapton
Every Breath You Take 4:56 Betty Wright
Thursday, April 26, 2012, 9am ~ Come to the Edge
(for Pamela Gibson’s birthday!)
Qurna 7:09 Banco de Gaia
Little Britain 5:15 Dreadzone
Sun Is Shining (Out Of Sight Remix) 7:30 ReUnited
SexybackClean Version 4:03 Justin Timberlake
Coolsville 4:53 Rick Braun
Spellbound 5:43 Rae & Christian
Artichoke Funk 5:56 Zeb
Release [Remix] 5:31 Afro Celt Sound System
Falling Slowly 4:04 Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova
Devorzhum 6:13 Dead Can Dance
Friday, April 27, 2012, 9am ~
Use Me 3:44 Bill Withers
Say 3:51 John Mayer
Sun Is Shining (Out Of Sight Remix) 7:30 ReUnited
Spellbound 5:43 Rae & Christian
More Than This 4:07 10,000 Maniacs
Dance Til You Bop 5:10 Candy Dulfer
Let It Whip // 4:43 Dazz Band
2025 4:45 Candy Dulfer
I Just Want to Celebrate [Remix] 5:03 Rare Earth
I Can’t Get Next To You 3:09 Annie Lennox
Hoochie Coochie Man 3:15 Eric Clapton
Let’s Get It On 4:54 Marvin Gaye
Wiarthul 5:55 Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu
Saturday, April 28, 2012, 945am ~ When in Doubt, Tell the Truth
Yulunga [Spirit Dance] 6:56 Dead Can Dance
Little Britain 5:15 Dreadzone
Sun Is Shining (Out Of Sight Remix) 7:30 ReUnited
SexybackClean Version 4:03 Justin Timberlake
Coolsville 4:53 Rick Braun
Spellbound 5:43 Rae & Christian
Long Train Running (Groovy Dooby Mix) 5:07 DJ’s Brothers
I Can’t Get Next To You 3:09 Annie Lennox
Hoochie Coochie Man 3:15 Eric Clapton
Let It Grow 4:56 Eric Clapton
Every Breath You Take 4:56 Betty Wright
Monday, April 30, 2012, 1045am ~ Making Miracles with Gratitude
Orange Sky 6:11 Alexi Murdoch
Tears From The Moon 4:18 Conjure One Feat. Sinéad O’ Connor
Shadow 4:28 Big Blue Ball
Siamsa 4:28 Ronan Hardiman
Unwritten 4:19 Natasha Bedingfield
Deeper (Into Places) (Silk Spinner Mix) 6:23 Afterlife
Shakin’ It Up 6:15 Ganga Girl
I’ve Got The Music In Me 5:02 The Kiki Dee Band
Why Must I Feel Like This Today? [Feat. Baaba Maal, Michael Franti, Ulali, Radio Active & Krishna Das] 9:28 1 Giant Leap
The River 5:31 Suzanne Sterling
Lift the Wings 5:00 Bill Whalen
Mark’s Song 4:21 eastmountainsouth
