First Quarter Moon, Growth

First Quarter Moon

First Quarter Moon

This week the moon arrives at the first quarter phase of her journey to fullness. I love the irony of this phase of the moon – called “first quarter” but appearing to us on earth as a “half-moon.” Since the moon is a sphere, not flat like a disc, we are privileged to see only one-quarter of its daytime side which appears to earthly inhabitants as half of the moon.

About a week ago the moon entered her “new moon” phase, which I spoke of in my last blog as symbolically a time of new beginnings. When I think of the new moon in terms of the planting cycle, I image a shoot beginning to emerge from a seed, making its way toward the light. So, too, in a time of new beginnings our own thoughts and intuitions begin to roil, gradually starting to cohere and emerging as new goals or directions or decisions.

With the first quarter moon the shoot that emerged from a seed just a week earlier, pushing through the soil toward the light, gradually unfurls a few leaves. They may be tentative at first, but grow stronger and larger as they are nourished by light, water and the nutrients of the earth. So too, we may find our own goals and decisions becoming clearer, our steps becoming firmer as they are nourished by our own faith in our direction and the support we may receive from friends, family, a counselor, or mentors.

One of the reasons I love Vedic chant is that so many involve nature. And in these chants, various elements of nature relate to aspects of the human system. For example, fire is identified as supporting speech, air supports breath, the sun support sight, water is connected to creativity, and the moon to the mind.

The Vedic chant laghunyasah is an example of a chant in which elements of nature and their positive relationship to the well-being of the human system is expressed, with a beautiful refrain threaded throughout. The effect is spiritual, almost the feeling of a prayer. A rough translation from Sanskrit of the lines in this chant that speak of the moon and the refrain follow.

May the moon support my mind.
May my mind be linked to my heart.
May my heart be linked to me.
May I be linked to that which is eternal within me.
May what is eternal within me be linked to the universal source.

If you are drawn to these images, you might use this as a mantra (mantra meaning “that which protects”). You might even recite it to yourself aloud several times, then softly, then silently. Just sit, and perhaps hold the image of the moon in your mind for a few minutes. You might even have a picture of the moon there with you.

In your own life, as you find your direction, decisions, and goals beginning to unfurl, perhaps you will find this practice focusing on the moon to be of support.

Below you can listen to these lines chanted in Sanskrit and recited in English:

~

New Moon, New Beginnings

the Moon

the Moon

“You can’t really criticize the moon,” one of my Wise Women yoga students observed on the heels of our yoga practice. It was the day before the new moon at its darkest stage, a time in the moon’s cycle connected with the idea of “new beginnings.”

In the days leading up to our class, the idea of “new beginnings” had taken roost in my mind as a dear and close family member struggled to find the best path for herself and her family. When I noticed the small darkened circle in the corner of June 4 on my calendar, I made the connection – new moon, new beginnings. I did a little research on the symbolism attached to the new moon only to find the idea of “new beginnings” coming up again and again.

The new moon is a time of both darkness and a sliver of light, which, like the gentle light of winter, supports a more internal focus, encouraging reflection. We can look at old goals, some of which may have been laid aside or forgotten as other aspects of our lives required more attention.

As I started reflecting on my old goals, I became aware of a new beginning I made in my practice of vedic chant. Although I had been studying and practicing chanting since 2003, my progress had been slow and disappointing. About a year ago, that changed when I decided to work via Skype every two or three weeks with a chant teacher. My chanting practice became more regular. I felt a renewed commitment to continue, and not only saw progress, but came to enjoy the work, as well. Sometimes the new beginning simply requires a new direction to move us closer to our objective.

As we reflect, we might decide to resurrect and recommit to some old goals. Some may have already been attained. With others we may find new directions reveal themselves. Some goals might have beginning after beginning in an ebb and flow, each one leading down a path we hadn’t expected when we first began. But not all old goals may seem as desirable as we had initially thought, and those we may decide to release. .

With the darkness and sliver of light of the new moon encouraging reflection, we each might ask ourselves what it is we might want to cultivate in our lives. Courage? Compassion? Joy? Patience? Balance? Or perhaps there is something more concrete we would like to attain. A daily yoga practice? Traveling? Playing the piano? Volunteering to read to children? Finding a different job?

We need only be open and patient to what may come up in our reflections, be not afraid to plot a path toward what we hope to cultivate, and move with patience and a willingness to continue to listen to ourselves and be open to modifying our direction.

The new moon days invite us to make new beginnings.

~

Below is a poem by a favorite poet of mine, inspired by the new moon.

NEW MOON

How much it must bear on its back,
a great ball of blue shadow,
yet somehow it shines, keeps up
an appearance. For hours tonight,
I walked beneath it, learning.
I want to be better at carrying sorrow.
If my face is a mask, formed over
the shadows that fill me
may I smile on the world like the moon.

     …Ted Kooser

 

A Beautiful Garden

Art by the river

Art by the river

All of us have been touched by the acts of terrorism in the world, the shootings in our city, drug use and violence that reaches into all our neighborhoods. The images and vivid reporting of these events weigh heavily on the minds and emotions of many of us, creating fear, sadness, anger, and often despair.

Both last year and this year, I have designated the donations given by those participating in the Yoga for the Winter Solstice class I teach to go to the Harrisburg Peace Garden Foundation. It seems especially appropriate this year to make this contribution.

If you have walked along Riverfront Park north of Maclay Street, you are familiar with the Harrisburg Peace Garden. You have seen the beauty of its flowers, the inspiring words of world figures carved into the stones resting among the plantings, the poignant sculptures along the beautiful Susquehanna. The garden was created in 1990 by the Harrisburg/Hershey Chapter of Physicians for Social Responsibility and the City of Harrisburg. The Peace Garden Fund was established to make sure the garden is preserved and maintained for future generations. The garden truly is a living monument honoring our interconnectedness with nature, with other cultures, with one another, and with generations to come.

Visually it moves us away from the images and soundbites that can draw us toward hopelessness. Instead it garners our attention, moving our focus to its colors, textures, and messages, and renews a sense of faith that we can live in harmony with the earth, other nations, and one another. It assures us that as we have peaceful hearts we bring greater peace into the world.

Yoga teaches that when we are suffering, we need to move our focus away from what causes our discomfort and towards its opposite. The opposite of violence is peace. In the candlelight of our Yoga for the Winter Solstice class we have the opportunity to pause in the midst of the holiday season’s busyness and honor both the quiet aspect of the winter season and the lighter energy it promises will come. As we seek lives of harmony and peace through yoga practice, it also seems right to let the visual reminder of the Peace Garden stand as a metaphor for what we wish to bring into our hearts.

I invite you to join me for Yoga for the Winter Solstice on Wednesday, December 16 at 5:45 pm at TMC wellness through movement, 2134 N. 2nd St., Harrisburg.

Learn more about Harrisburg’s Peace Garden

 

Avoiding Autumn’s Adversities

2015-0921 Blog image

2015-0921 Blog image

The Yoga Sutra (YS II.16) teaches that we should “avoid future suffering.” This means not only letting go of behaviors, attitudes or habits that cause us pain, but also looking ahead and preparing for difficulties that may arise so they can be avoided. This Sutra applies to our environment and its seasonal changes as well. They require our attention, so we can prepare and mitigate any adverse effects to come. After all, if we heard that a blizzard was coming, we would go to the store to buy our milk, eggs, and bread, and possibly batteries. We would make sure there was gas in the snowblower, we had trusty shovel, and maybe a little extra food for the birds.

I love autumn. The days may be warm, but the nights feel cool and clear. Mums, and pumpkins, and apples appear everywhere. And, we know that soon leaves will explode in dazzling reds, oranges, and yellow.

But some of the qualities of fall that we tend to overlook can cause problems. Think of the leaves we see fading. Their tips curl as they become drier and drier, even as many color magnificently. The leaves of most deciduous trees will fall to the ground, dry and crunchy as we walk in them. The air moves, as winds sweep the dried leaves, and the days begin to cool.

Ayurveda – the ancient Indian holistic medical system – tells us fall is the season when vata dosha is dominant. The word dosha means “a fault or mistake,” and vata means “to blow or move like the wind.” Vata is one of three doshas, the others being pitta and kapha, that are components of all life.

Throughout the year, each of the three doshas becomes dominant in different seasons. When vata dosha is dominant in fall, it can lead to an imbalance of that dosha within us. And, if we are in our wisdom years, we become more vulnerable to an imbalance of our vata dosha.

Some of the symptoms we might experience when vata is out of balance include: difficulty sitting still, racing thoughts. unfocused mind, difficulty sleeping, dryness of the skin, hair, or nails, constipation, forgetfulness, or anxiety. Our joints might feel creaky, as if they needed lubrication.

We may experience a vata dosha imbalance in seasons other than fall, depending upon our own constitution (the mix of the three doshas we are born with) and our diet, lifestyle, and life situation. But just to emphasize – the qualities of fall make us more vulnerable to a vata imbalance.

An ayurvedic practitioner can help us understand our own unique constitution and recommend dietary and lifestyle changes to help us achieve or maintain balance. Our yoga practice can help us mitigate the suffering that a vata inbalance can cause for our bodies, energy, mind, and emotions as we work to create a sense of groundness. We can use breathwork to calm our breath and mind; we can include a meditative practice to focus the mind. While we regularly use these tools in yoga, it is the intention of our practice that is most important. Bringing a calm, quiet, meditative intention to our yoga practice can help us maintain balance so we can welcome rather than suffer from the autumn days.

Let fall be a time to nourish yourself with your yoga and enjoy the season, and please let me know if you would like to work with me to develop your personal yoga practice for the fall.

 

Fall Harvest Yoga

Fall Harvest image

Fall Harvest image

Join Us…

Saturday, September 19, 2015
On the green, under the tree for
Fall Harvest Yoga at
Loaves and Fishes Farms
1810 York Road, Dover, PA

 
Led by Elizabeth Terry, Yoga 4 Healthful Living
Yoga from 10:00-11:30am. Light lunch and fun to follow!

Bring your own yoga mat, walking shoes and “farm friendly” clothes for playing with the goats. A free will offering will be accepted to support the work of Loaves and Fishes Farms.

Please reserve your spot by September 15th:
Elizabeth Terry eterryyoga@gmail.com or (717) 645-0067

 
For more info on the farm, check out their Facebook page – Facebook.com/LoavesAndFishesFarm or contact:
Farmer Jen Briggs jenbriggs@comcast.net or (717) 774-0794
Farmer Bonnie McCann bonniejmccann@comcast.net or (717) 319-7721

 
Directions (from Harrisburg area)

Interstate 83 south to the Yocumtown Exit. At Light make a left and then an immediate Right on to Taylor Road. Follow that road for about 3.5 miles. You will cross over Rt. 382 (Lewisberry Road) which then becomes York Road, this is curvy and you will pass the Susquehanna Speedway and the farmer market on your left and you will pass a church and school on your right. The Loaves and Fishes Farm is on the corner of Red Bank and York Road. It is a white house with green shutters – the kitchen is in the garage (doesn’t everyone have a kitchen in the garage?)

1810 York Road
Dover, Pa 17315

The Anniversary Tree

The Anniversary Tree

The Anniversary Tree

Last Sunday my husband, Jim, and I celebrated our twenty-ninth anniversary. We had married the end of April as I had wanted a spring date, thinking it the perfect time to start something new.

On the day of our wedding, my brother-in-law and family brought us a young weeping cherry tree and planted it in our back yard. Each year since, we eagerly have awaited the knots of delicate pink blooms as if they were our anniversary gift.

But over the years the tree has waned, the blossoms fewer and the number of barren branches growing. We consulted an arborist and fed the tree to improve its vigor. We had years when we thought it looked hardier, and some when we were certain it was in its last season.

After the cold winter last year, the tree failed to blossom at all, the buds tight before turning to leaves. My mind is good at wandering to seek meaning or read a sign into such events. So you can imagine the fears raised by our anniversary tree’s absence of blooms.

Not knowing what to expect of the tree his year, we were full of hope for its rebirth as pink buds covered the branches. Our hopes were met with a number of knots of pink blossoms, even more lovely as goldfinches sat among them, waiting a turn for sunflower seeds. Even so, most buds remain tightly closed and many branches barren. Much will go when we prune the dead wood.

Sometimes we have things in our lives we cling to as they represent something important, something deeply significant and dear. We become so attached that to let go feels almost like a betrayal. In the case of our anniversary tree, as it blossomed it reminded us of our pledge to one another, our relationship. To see the tree age and fade reminded us not only of our own mortality, but also of the fragility of relationship.

I know we will miss our tree when we finally take it down. As with so many things now gone, we will still talk about it, perhaps frame a picture. But there comes a time to let go, to make room for something new.

Already we talk about replacing our wedding tree with something strong and hardy. Perhaps a red bud. And we don’t need to have a big tree, thinking we may not have the years it might take to grow it full and large. As I told Jim, instead we will plant with faith in something new to come. And, also hold in memory the starting point of something lovely, beloved.

Spring, the Sky…

First signs of Spring

Spring, the sky rippled with geese,
But the green comes on slowly…”
From “March 16,” in Ted Kooser’s Winter Morning Walks

We have almost arrived at the end of March, and I have been observing its fluctuating energy throughout the month. What have you noticed this month? And, not just about the weather. How has your body been feeling? What has your energy been like? How have your moods been?

It is in the nature of March to reflect both the winter we have barely left and the spring that is promised. And each season has an energy that influences each individual depending upon his or her unique system.

A friend of mine with whom I spoke on one of March’s first sunny, warm days talked about feeling a sense of excitement without knowing why. I thought it funny she expressed it that way as I had been experiencing a similar sense of excitement. It was only when she mentioned this that I began to relate it to what was going on around us.

On a warm sunny early spring day there is a feeling of potential energy. My friend described it as “pregnant energy.” I had just noticed earlier in March how daffodils in my yard had pressed through the cold, hard earth, undeterred by snowfalls. They were growing greener and taller each day. “Pregnant energy” had pushed them toward the sun with a promise of blossoms, energy expressed in their opening. That pregnant energy is an energy of anticipation, excitement, a movement toward birth, renewal, fulfillment.

But even now as the vernal equinox is behind us, we can still feel the fluctuating energy of this season. Ted Kooser expresses this best in a short poem in which he speaks of “The pond, still numb from months of ice,” and juxtaposes it to the nearby “budding maple whose every twig is strung with beads of carved cinnabar, bittersweet red.” On a chilly, overcast March day, one perhaps even offering some wintry precipitation, we may relate more to ice barely cleared on the pond, or, for us living close to the Susquehanna, to ice barely cleared in the river. On such days the excitement of spring is dampened, and we feel a heavier, denser energy of winter not ready to let go to make room for spring.

Transition is often difficult. And the transition between the pregnant potential of a promised spring and weighty, internal energy of winter can bring a sense of agitation, confusion, or maybe even a sense of just being worn down.

One of the teachings of yoga that helps me with the fluctuating days of this seasonal transition is parinama vada, translated as “everything changes.” We learn that everything in the material world is in flux. It is the nature of things to be constantly changing, including ourselves, which we see as we grow from children, to adolescents, to young adults, to middle age, and to elders.

A regular yoga practice attunes us to the changes around us and within us. We learn to live in the present moment and accept that change and transitions are inevitable.

When the moody indecision of March plagues our bodies, energy and dispositions and disappoints our desire for a more consistent diet of pleasantly warm and sun, we can remind ourselves that it will change. That is assured.