I am Not My Body

How many people look in the mirror and think the reflected image is who they are? Do we ever have a perception of ourselves that is true? It is wonderfully ironic that getting in touch with the body is what enables us to see that we are not our bodies. We are so much more. In the practice of grounding and mindfulness, we quiet the mind and feel the spirit that we are. In that space we viscerally understand our connection to every other spirit on the planet.

The physical experience can be delicious whether at a favorite restaurant, playing with a beloved or zipping down a slide at Water World, but it does not define us. Our bodies are what cause us to appear separate from others. They are our containers, our temples, and yet, we are all joined by a higher purpose that is born of Love. In the stillness we experience the Love that is much bigger than anything we have felt with another person. It is not special or unique to one, but it is the great unifier of all. When author of A Course in Miracles says: “I am not a body. I am free” (Foundation of Inner Peace, 1977) she refers to the freedom we can receive from a shifted perception.

Let me back up. When our minds are in control, they organize, plan, judge, divide like rats. Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate rodents, but by only looking down at the rodent, we miss the elephant. Our

Starbucks and Revelations

Standing in line at Starbucks, I got to talking to the man next to me. He told me that every morning he drives north to this particular Starbucks to buy his drink and breakfast before getting on the freeway to travel south again to Denver where he works – all because the staff is stellar – unbelievably friendly. “It’s not like other Starbucks.” It adds about 15 minutes to his commute to make this coffee run, but evidently it’s worth it. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but this phenomenon fascinated me, and I started to go to this Starbucks just to observe the dynamics. And, it was true. Mostly female employees, they were like morning stars that must have risen hours before we arrived, shining down and lighting our way. The woman at the register asked one man how his birthday had been. She asked the next customer if he had found the folder he had misplaced. And, she complimented the third gentleman on his jacket. It was my turn. I thought maybe I was looking into the eyes of Venus. When the dark haired beauty, probably a student at the nearby University of Colorado asked how I was, it felt like if I had said I was having a hard day, she would have pulled me aside and urged me to vent. Her enthusiasm was sincere. I wanted to order more than a decaf Americano – like maybe a couple of salted caramel cake pops, some almonds, a CD and a veggie plate, but I reminded myself that coffee was all I wanted. “Okay Hon, that’ll be right up.” It felt like we were all swept back in time to a 50’s diner.

People long for connection and caring. Taking it a step farther, we also yearn to be accepted unconditionally.  A part of us heals when we tell our deepest (what we consider darkest) secrets to a friend, counselor, coach or spiritual advisor who can receive it without judgment. Accepted, we forgive; we’re a little easier on ourselves. It could be someone who loves us enough to know that whatever we did was what created the person we have become today. Or it might be a confession to a total stranger on an airplane or to a priest. My mother always says that the concept of Catholic confession was the precedent for counseling.

Too, we are thirsty for touch. Yoga instructors will tell you that the more people they can "assist"(helping them to move more deeply into a pose), the more likely those individuals

Laughing at Murphy

Dharma Mittra

Dharma Mittra has no idea the hoops I needed to jump through to get to his yoga class yesterday morning, and it was well worth it.

On Friday evening as I was about to leave for the Yoga Journal Conference in Estes Park I saw that my ex-husband, Brian’s, house keeper was calling. And this is how the conversation unfolded:

Me: “Hello.”

Other person: “Hi. I borrowed the housekeeper’s phone to call you. This is the mail lady. Which woman is this?” (Brian got a good laugh out of that remark. Since both of our daughters are in and out of his house, he had a girlfriend for a while, I am often there, and recently his sister moved in, it's understandable that the mail lady has no idea who's who.)

Me: “This is the ex-wife, Jen.”

Whale Tale

Today, shortly before Savasana – or the period of relaxation after a strenuous yoga class - my instructor played music that featured whale calls. With my eyes closed, and my legs twisted left while my torso twisted right, I was immediately transported to the sea. In 1996, after a day of whale watching, I was snorkeling off the shore in Maui when I heard whale songs. Likely, the Humpback whales were more than a mile away, but the water carried the sound so clearly that I scanned, wide-eyed in my mask, 360 degrees to see if I could make out any massive forms. Their bellow resonated in my heart, and I knew that I would never forget that moment, that at the end of my life I would hold it as an image when I am being carried from this world to the next. [Image courtesy Animal Planet site]

Having evidently thoughtfully chosen that piece of music, the instructor interrupted my thoughts by saying that whale calls can be healing; that we might consider listening to their songs as we slowly switched our twist to the other side, earth bound and 1,029 miles from the closest sea.

I remember the feeling when the boat’s engine was cut in the vicinity of whales and seeing

Halloween, Sex and the Number Two Test

…to be human
is to become visible
while carrying
what is hidden
as a gift to others…
~ David Whyte

People often ask how I know or choose what I’m going to write about next. I’d like to report that I carry a literary witching rod to divine a lofty inspiration from some higher source, but that’s generally not the case. I do two things. The first is called the #2 test. Usually while I’m driving I scan through recent events. If an idea is too intellectual, I skip over it because clearly my ego would be writing about what’s “important" (yawn) and not my gut and heart. Every now and then the divining rod strikes it rich and the material has to come out as soon as possible. I rush home and let it flow. If I ignore it or I can’t get home in time – you guessed it: the urge passes and I forget whatever it was I wanted to write. Naturally, the urge will return in some form and sometimes even when I do get home in time, I read it over and realize, well, it’s crap.

The second part of the equation is humor. If it’s not somewhat funny, no one wants to read it. Generally, if it’s funny there’s a darker underbelly to the piece, which gives you an idea about my sense of humor. But darkness is not necessarily twisted - soul seeks darkness. In Soulcraft, Bill Plotkin explains: “the movement toward spirit is a journey of ascent…transcendence, while the movement toward your soul is a journey of descent… a journey that deepens.”

So, today what got me racing home at high speeds was… s-e-x! Well, at least the idea of it. This weekend I went to a couple of Halloween parties. I dressed as Nefertiti, complete with a hat I made for the occasion. Totally ignoring the heavy eye make up and bejeweled dress, some guy asked if I were a “Bic Pen.” Really? That gave me an idea about how to use the headdress next year. Granted, I passed over sexier options, choosing instead an elegant sack, and at one of the parties, I watched as men gravitated to more skimpily dressed women. No surprise there, but it reminded me of the Halloween party in college when I dressed as a frumpy yellow bird and all the guys asked my two lithe friends, who were dressed as a kitty cat and a school girl in a low buttoned shirt and mini skirt, to dance while I sat in a chair preening my lemon yellow feathers. One of the guys pulled me aside and said: “You’re the kind of girl we’d want to marry, but who wants to get married in college?” I was such a nerd; it's no wonder I was a virgin until age 21!

I have no issue with being playful and wearing fun, sexy costumes, especially on Halloween. I've worn my share of them. And when I was married there was clarity and it was easier to venture from base and be flirtatious. Married but not dead. But as a single woman I want to be conscious about what I'm putting out there and what I want to attract. My last lover taught me a lot about spirituality and health. He said that most people “bleed sexual energy,” which depletes power and the capacity for deeper relationship. (I liked to remind him that when I met him at a Halloween party years ago I had my hair down and teased and I was dressed in a skin tight, one-piece snake suit draped in a strand of ivy.) The fact is some men are visual and won’t see my mind unless I show them my ass first. Alas, I wasn’t in the mood this weekend to be luring men, at least, not that way. I like to remind myself that as much as I learned from that lover, we weren’t on the same page. If I am meant to meet a long-term partner it’s probably not going to be dressed as a wanton middle-aged Lolita.

Certain traditions say that when a woman has sex, she carries that partner’s energy along with her for seven years. Maybe I knew that back in college or maybe I was a scared canary. Sex is never just sex – at least not usually for women. The heart gets involved in a way that can shred us. We think we’re going to be calm, cool and collected, and the next day we are crying and thinking about puppies dying in scientific labs and the affect of global warming on bees and is he ever going to call me again? On the flip side, one may have sex with a man who seems and looks relatively stable and then Pow! The intimacy triggers something shall we say... unexpected. Humans are complex!

It’s one of the reasons I’m not looking for sex for sex’s sake. Besides worrying about the puppies, birds and bees, I want to understand my heart more fully, and I think it’s been shut down for a long time. It’s why yoga has been so important to me. I remember last year when my favorite yoga instructor, Matt, led a class that focused on “heart openers.” Heart openers, I innocently thought, were exercises that stretched the pectoral muscles to free up my shoulders and arms. But NO! Fear the cruel yoga instructor! (And they all look so innocent. BUDDHIST BULLIES I say!) When it came time for savasana, I was a blubbering fool curled in a fetal position trying not to sob audibly and disturb the peaceful corpses lying next to me.

I’m happy to say my heart is accustomed to opening more readily thanks to the safe space of yoga, tango or BodyMantra. Don’t get me wrong. Sex is a show stopper. It’s glorious, transcendent, life changing at its best. But it's more fun with a committed partner. Our culture seems to breed men and women fumbling towards one another with the idea that we can complete each other in a night, that the other person will erase our pain. We go into relationship with too much expectation - we wonder why it caves under all that wet snow! We might be relieved that – God forbid – we are not seen in public alone...again. We jump in without taking the time to feel our way fully, without understanding our hearts and the deeper quests it leads us on. Our media flaunts sexuality as if sex is no more life changing than eating a bag of chips. Sadly some people who've been abused and never taught otherwise are inured and their hearts and feelings are shut down so that it isn't any more special than Cheetos. While some teens may be ready to experience it with a sense of fun and wonder, other kids feel obligated and lost, slamming the heart shut for another decade or for good.

There really is no answer here. It’s like the question about what I’m going to write next – sometimes the urges we follow, whether on the page or between the sheets, turn out to be great and then other times… not. I guess what I’m hoping for is more creativity when it comes to engaging with the opposite sex – especially for middle-aged singles. Friends often say that dating in our 20’s was fun and easy. At 50 people are crumbling fortresses of terror. Halloween is our signature holiday.

I feel a certain peace when my yoga teacher comes over to kneel on the back of my thighs and ease down on my upper back as I’m lying on my stomach; my heart opens like a tide pool on my yoga mat. I feel this same serenity and safety with a couple of dear male platonic friends - one I've only known a year and the other I have known for five years who told me he would never sleep with me because down the road it wouldn’t work out and we would lose our friendship. I thought he was wrong at first, but now I know – in my heart – that he was right. What I've come to find with both is this unconditional acceptance, a freedom of interrelating with someone from the opposite sex without expectation.

Granted, it would be nice to have a sexual partner, but ultimately friends with benefits seems to end up biting someone in the ass. It's been so long... I want to bite an ass. Sigh.

While I’m not officially declaring abstinence, I have made a commitment to sink into the feeling of what it’s like to be by myself... making snow angels! And, without getting lost in another person or carrying yet another man’s energy around for seven years. (That is such a weird concept.) There will come a time for losing myself – again – to delicious, blissful love, but first I want to know my heart. I want to urge her out of hiding. It’s all perception. I could focus on the disappointment of going to one more event without a date, but I am beginning to trust that being single is right where I’m meant to be. The universe will open the door to a relationship and when that happens, I will be ready to walk through the door without leaving myself on the other side of the threshold.

In the poignant book by Martha Beck, Expecting Adam, as she contemplates whether she’s going to abort or keep her unborn son with Down’s Syndrome, she asks herself: “What is it that people do? What do we live to do, the way a horse lives to run?” Later in the chapter she reveals: “This is the part of us that makes our brief, improbable little lives worth living: the ability to reach through our own isolation and find strength, and comfort, and warmth for and in each other. This is what human beings do. This is what we live for, the way horses live to run.”

I may be single, but I don’t feel alone. My life is graced with a wonderful immediate and extended family, close friends and dear teachers who sustain my heart and make every moment worth living.