Some weird energy has been creeping around the past week and I'm trying to get in touch with it. I'm trying to understand my role in it and what it is I am to be learning from it.
After teaching last night and again today, the nag to go inside was too strong to resist. The sun was just setting and the moon had risen. I went to my yoga room, turned on my salt lamp, frankincense burning, set out my mat and my folded blanket and went down with the blanket supporting my spine, chest and heart open, arms splayed, soles of my feet together. Looking out my window, there is the moon, flooding my room with clearing energy.
In anticipation of the next Chopra meditation series, I hit play on The Medicine of Love, one of the guided meditations from a previous series. Settling in, I tune in.
Word choice is of particular interest to me. When the speaker said, "Gently, close your eyes." off I went.
How else would one close their eyes in preparation for meditation? Is it necessary to request a gentle closing? What would happen if she just said, "Close your eyes"? Would the devotees hastily squeeze their eyes tight so much that their nose scrunched up?
She mentioned surrender. I'm pretty sure she was talking directly to me. So I did.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Chill Factor
Now, I understand how you might be thinking this is in reference to the weather, but it is not.
Chill Factor is a 48 count line dance that has very few repeating steps. I used to dance it years ago with my friends in Long Beach and I've been itching to dance it again up here. After a few frustrating starts of getting reacquainted, it came back to me.
Tonight, I taught a class strictly on Chill Factor. It is a challenge. It can make you stomp your feet--not part of the choreography. It can get your head turned around so much that you have no idea which way you're going. And when you get it, it can make your legs fly and your heart sing!
The dance floor was crowded tonight. The dancing was on.
I like my Friday nights.
Chill Factor is a 48 count line dance that has very few repeating steps. I used to dance it years ago with my friends in Long Beach and I've been itching to dance it again up here. After a few frustrating starts of getting reacquainted, it came back to me.
Tonight, I taught a class strictly on Chill Factor. It is a challenge. It can make you stomp your feet--not part of the choreography. It can get your head turned around so much that you have no idea which way you're going. And when you get it, it can make your legs fly and your heart sing!
The dance floor was crowded tonight. The dancing was on.
I like my Friday nights.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
New Rules #212
The plastic seal around the outside of the cap did not have a handy perforated strip; scissors were sought in order to remove it. It seems those who jar this precious cinnamon felt that the unbreakable plastic wrap was not enough to protect me from the unstable individual wanting to harm me via a ground spice.
As an added security measure, they put a foil lined paper seal over the top, and under the honey-combed pour top. Some of these seals, as you know, have a gratuitous tab with which to pull---off, because they inevitably come apart from the seal itself thus requiring, once again, the aid of additional means with which to enjoy a much anticipated breakfast.
If I have to go through this much trouble to open a jar of cinnamon, why can an 18 year old walk into a gun show, make multiple purchases and walk out without so much as a question?
The new rule is: let's get our priorities, fears, morals, beliefs, paranoia, defenses of the Constitution, what and whom we are ardently protecting in line with one another.
You know the adage: You can't have your cake and eat it too.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
The Sweetest Kiss
My right arm over Hy Note's back, my left arm cradling his chest, I am resting my head on his withers.
As he chews hay out of the feed cart, I gaze up.
The night is perfectly adorned with magnificent stars dancing around the waxing moon.
Quiet. Pure. Precious.
Holding him tight, dreaming I disappear into his nobility.
I inhale deeply, the corners of my mouth turned up,
so glad that I know the earthy candy-like smell of a horse.
Holding him tighter to move with his breath, I close my eyes.
This is my sweetest kiss goodnight.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Can a Rooster Count?
One of my baby hens, Honey, is in my chicken special care unit for tonight. With much hope she will pass the remainder of a bound egg. My special care unit is so flexible, it changes names depending on which animal is in there. But, to my point.
In the early evening, I walked down to the hen house to collect any pearls the girls may have left for me. Two. The other 10 hens were inside their high rise, settling in at dusk, but Red was pacing outside. He was looking around, under the big juniper and back out again. I believe he was looking for Honey.
Red is one very gentle, respectful Rooster. He is loyally protective of his girls. He tries to mount them every now and again and if they scoot out from under him, he just goes around in a circle almost a little embarrassed that he even tried. So, here it was, time to head in to safety for the night and one of his hens was missing.
In my best gallo speak, I explained that she was with me and assured him I was looking after her for the night. I hope he understood me. The last thing I would want is for Red to think he lost a hen on his watch.
Sweet dreams, Red.
In the early evening, I walked down to the hen house to collect any pearls the girls may have left for me. Two. The other 10 hens were inside their high rise, settling in at dusk, but Red was pacing outside. He was looking around, under the big juniper and back out again. I believe he was looking for Honey.
Red is one very gentle, respectful Rooster. He is loyally protective of his girls. He tries to mount them every now and again and if they scoot out from under him, he just goes around in a circle almost a little embarrassed that he even tried. So, here it was, time to head in to safety for the night and one of his hens was missing.
In my best gallo speak, I explained that she was with me and assured him I was looking after her for the night. I hope he understood me. The last thing I would want is for Red to think he lost a hen on his watch.
Sweet dreams, Red.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Utterly Foul
My favorite part of coming home a little before 1am from a good night of dancing was to realize that that utterly foul smell that was tracked in by one of the dogs earlier in the evening remained.
I had already cleaned up the spots that ran up the stairs. What else? Then I discovered the source.
Even before getting my coat off, I had Bodie between my knees as I brushed, washed and cut out a serious collection of pooh on his furry little butt! It was some intense mouth breathing. I wiggled him over to the sink so I could wet another paper towel. When it became obvious that more serious measures were called for, I wiggled him over to the scissors.
Pinkie would have no part of this circus. She was tucked in under my bed.
After Febreze room spray and then Febreze fabric spray, putting the "green" wipes back and pulling out the 409, the malodorous air lingered. I found some remnants around the carpet and in the kitchen; it was easy to track where he had been over the course of the evening.
He may be fierce when someone approaches the gate but my little Bodie has the most gentle heart. He's sound asleep beside me--I'm such a good mom--and before passing out, he looked up at me a few times with soft eyes and a titled head as if to say, "I'm sorry I have a smelly butt, mom. Thanks for cleaning me up."
Pee-ew!
I had already cleaned up the spots that ran up the stairs. What else? Then I discovered the source.
Even before getting my coat off, I had Bodie between my knees as I brushed, washed and cut out a serious collection of pooh on his furry little butt! It was some intense mouth breathing. I wiggled him over to the sink so I could wet another paper towel. When it became obvious that more serious measures were called for, I wiggled him over to the scissors.
Pinkie would have no part of this circus. She was tucked in under my bed.
After Febreze room spray and then Febreze fabric spray, putting the "green" wipes back and pulling out the 409, the malodorous air lingered. I found some remnants around the carpet and in the kitchen; it was easy to track where he had been over the course of the evening.
He may be fierce when someone approaches the gate but my little Bodie has the most gentle heart. He's sound asleep beside me--I'm such a good mom--and before passing out, he looked up at me a few times with soft eyes and a titled head as if to say, "I'm sorry I have a smelly butt, mom. Thanks for cleaning me up."
Pee-ew!
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
New Rules #107
If you're going to take a horse off the property for a walk, you must be sure to lock the goodles in the dry lot before setting out.
It was Faramir's turn for a good walk around the neighborhood. The goats were out tearing through my nicely stacked hay bales, the dogs have learned to sit by the corner of the fence until they see us coming back up the rise, the hens were scratching in the softening earth.
As we head out on my road, the dogs run along the fence to the furthest corner they can and then sit and wait for our return.
Faramir and I got about 1/4 mile out on our walk when it dawned on me that when the dogs run, the goats run. And what's in that furthest corner where the poodles wait? The hen house.
"Argh! Come on Faramir!" I blurted as we did an about face and attempted a respectful jog back home. As we came up the rise in sight of the hen house, I called out and I could see Pippin outside the hen house, which only meant Shadow was inside. Goats are definitely not supposed to eat grain and once they get a taste it's good luck momma trying to get a 180lb horned goat to give it up.
We made it back, heart in my throat, Faramir wondering what that fuss was about, got the gate unchained, convinced Pinkie not to nip at the horse, chained the gate again and breathlessly stumbled our way to the hen house. As predictable goat behavior would have it, I made a really scary sound and Shadow came bolting out eyes wide open looking for that big monster. I lunged forward and quickly closed and latched the door. "Whew." I let my breath catch up and turned for Faramir who had walked off to take in his own moment of exploration.
All was well. All secured. Faramir was a bit disappointed that he didn't get to meet the neighbors I had told him about but Alibi sure was glad we were back early enough for him to get out for a walk.
I followed my new rule and delighted in an easy pace until the sun set with my horse.
It was Faramir's turn for a good walk around the neighborhood. The goats were out tearing through my nicely stacked hay bales, the dogs have learned to sit by the corner of the fence until they see us coming back up the rise, the hens were scratching in the softening earth.
As we head out on my road, the dogs run along the fence to the furthest corner they can and then sit and wait for our return.
Faramir and I got about 1/4 mile out on our walk when it dawned on me that when the dogs run, the goats run. And what's in that furthest corner where the poodles wait? The hen house.
"Argh! Come on Faramir!" I blurted as we did an about face and attempted a respectful jog back home. As we came up the rise in sight of the hen house, I called out and I could see Pippin outside the hen house, which only meant Shadow was inside. Goats are definitely not supposed to eat grain and once they get a taste it's good luck momma trying to get a 180lb horned goat to give it up.
We made it back, heart in my throat, Faramir wondering what that fuss was about, got the gate unchained, convinced Pinkie not to nip at the horse, chained the gate again and breathlessly stumbled our way to the hen house. As predictable goat behavior would have it, I made a really scary sound and Shadow came bolting out eyes wide open looking for that big monster. I lunged forward and quickly closed and latched the door. "Whew." I let my breath catch up and turned for Faramir who had walked off to take in his own moment of exploration.
All was well. All secured. Faramir was a bit disappointed that he didn't get to meet the neighbors I had told him about but Alibi sure was glad we were back early enough for him to get out for a walk.
I followed my new rule and delighted in an easy pace until the sun set with my horse.
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