Enjoy the Silence: Meditation with Mantras

I've been attending a weekly Kundalini yoga class for the last two months. It's a style of yoga that's very different from the power/vinyasa flow I am used to. The poses are dynamic (i.e., you're moving) but you do the same pose for several minutes. It might look easy on the surface, but I can attest--this stuff is intense!

What has really captivated me about this style of yoga is its bevy of mantras. Lots of chants and hand motions. It's like cheerleading in Sanskrit--but without the kicks, flips, and squeals. The mantras serve as a form of meditation.

Generally speaking, a yoga class is a meditative experience in and of itself. But there's something about throwing around all those Kundalini gang signs (better known as mudras) and the lullaby of all those foreign words that has swept me into a place where to-do lists and everyday woes are just a tiny blip on the horizon.

"Your strength is how quietly, calmly, and peacefully you face life."

                                                                                           --Yogi Bhajan

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically, on Tuesdays at 7:15 p.m.--to live happily ever after. (Image courtesy of stevoarnold via Creative Commons.)

Cheesy Gifts

In the car on the way home from work this evening, in the middle of our how are yous and how was your days, Andrew announced that he had a gift for me. He reached into his coat pocket and handed me a piece of paper. It was a coupon for a dollar off on Sargento cheese. Actually, it was two coupons. "One for now, one for later," he proudly reported.

I laughed, he laughed, and it was all good. Really good. Even though I can't remember the last time I actually used a grocery store coupon, that moment of a shared chuckle after a long day was exactly I needed.

Plus, I love cheese.

"Laughter is the closest distance between two people."                                                                                  --Victor Borge

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. And to find lots to laugh about.

Lucky Ticket

"The psychological and moral comfort of a presence at once humble and understanding--this is the greatest benefit that the dog has bestowed upon man."                                                                                   --Percy Bysshe Shelley

Our pup that we adopted nearly three weeks ago came from a home with two other dogs--one of whom had already been adopted by the time we were there and the other, a small cattle dog named Ticket. I met Ticket briefly at the pound. He had a lot of words, as is to be expected of anyone--or any pup--who has been cooped up for as long as he had been.

We weren't in a position to adopt the two dogs. Really, the idea never even crossed our minds. However, knowing that Ticket was a sibling of sorts to our new little girl, I felt emotionally invested in him, too. His sister got to go to a nice, loving new home. Ticket deserved the same.

When I checked Ticket's Petfinder ad on Friday to see if he had found a new home yet, there was an "URGENT" note attached to his description. It said that, because of his intake date, his name was near the top of the euthanasia list. I know, sadly, that there are thousands and thousands of pets out there who never get to go to new home--but it just seems so very wrong that they have to die because of it.

I posted a write-up about Ticket on Facebook, Twitter, the intranet at my workplace, and on Yelp. Several people responded, and a few others helped spread the word. When I checked his listing again this evening, I was delighted to see that Ticket had gone to a wonderful foster home and that he was making great strides in his new, less stressful living situation.

So, what I am most grateful for today is that there are caring souls out there who open their hearts and homes to provide foster care to pets in need of an honest-to-goodness second chance at a happy life.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--for disadvantaged pets live happily ever after.

All Wrong--but it's Alright

One of my favorite things to do is to take back-to-back yoga classes. The first a flowing, moderately challenging vinyasa class; the second a tranquil and restorative yin class. Together, they recharge me. And since I'm not able to get to a studio class as often as I'd like, I'm all about optimization.

Today's classes, however, were led by a substitute teacher--and everything about the classes was wrong. Not wrong as in incorrect; just different. My expectations were not met--but I wasn't entirely disappointed either. Here's why:

When the chemistry is perfect--student & teacher, husband & wife, best friends, business partners--joy is effortless. You want to spend all of your time in their company. When the pairing is so-so--or a bit rocky--it's up to ourselves to create the joy we're looking for. It's a daunting task, but also a powerful reminder that happiness is entirely within our own control.

I wouldn't say that I succeeded entirely in this pursuit, but I certainly took a step in the right direction. And for that, I'm grateful.

"Gratitude allows us to reshape the meaning of any situation, so we can choose the perspective from which we view a joy, a sorrow, a disappointment--even success."                                                                                                        --Dr. Robin Smith

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (Image courtesy of madame.furie via Creative Commons.)

Putting Gratitude Into Perspective

I have a to-do list that's a mile and a half long--and an I want to-do list twice that length. I have lists at work and and at home, about the pets, about my writing, and about yoga. About decluttering and simplifying. Healthy stuff, us time, the holidays, and volunteering. As a result, I start a lot of sentences with the words "I have to."

More often than not, Andrew corrects me, saying "No, you get to."

Touche, my dear.

With a simple switch of a word--I get to vs. I have to--suddenly the to-do lists seem less overwhelming. Gratitude replaces obligation. It's all about perspective.

Getting in the gratitude habit For as long as I can remember in my adult years, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas has been a stressful time, complete with feelings of not living up to the stereotypical and commercial expectations. Blech. Totally defeating the spirit of the season, right?

Between now and Christmas--and hopefully long beyond--it is my wish to take time each day to focus on all that I have to be grateful for. All that I get to do. All the good that exists in our world. And all that I already have.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (Image courtesy of allyaubry via Creative Commons.)

Note Worthy

Last summer, I spent a leisurely long weekend in San Francisco where I filled my days with fresh air and sunshine, good coffee and good wine, and the company of one of my best friends. It was delightfully restful and not the least bit touristy. On my last day in town, while walking back from a yoga class at International Orange, I spotted a piece of paper nestled in some leaves alongside a chain-link fence separating a schoolyard from the street. Noticing a child's penmanship, I stopped to give it a closer look.

What a simple and profound message to come across! And written by someone so young. Heavy and light all at once. I snapped a photo and left the index card right where I found it.

A few steps later, I spotted this:

And then this:

Was this part of a school assignment? Remnants of the previous school year? Were they planted here as a pick-me-up for unsuspecting folks such as myself? Hands down, these three photos--and the experience of coming across these messages one at a time--were the best souvenir I could imagine bringing home back east.

I was reminded of this exquisite experience this afternoon when I came across a post on a very cool blog called Operation NICE that encourages individuals to be proactively nice. It's creator, Melissa, is brimming with heartfelt enthusiasm. Today on Operation NICE, she talks about leaving NICE notes, which are simply a few kind words penned for the benefit of a stranger. Much like those schoolyard notes I found at the intersection of Pine and Steiner, I have no doubt that a NICE note can have a profound impact on its passersby.

"Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I cannot take it, like my heart's going to cave in."                                                                                                                    -- American Beauty

Have you ever come across something random and profound when you least expected it? If so, please share. I'd love to hear your stories.

 _________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. Tangible souveniers are so 1984. (All three photos are © Holly Sivec)

Maybe I Was Born to Run

Personal productivity experts say that one of the best ways to help you achieve your goals is first to put them in writing and then to share your plans with others. So, that's exactly what I'm doing, right here and right now. I am going to start running.

I had pretty much written this off a no-go quite a few years ago, remembering how silly I looked running (or so I was told) as a child, and later as a teen. With my legs flapping and my arms flopping, I too believed it wasn't a pretty sight. No big deal though; I had plenty of other activities to occupy my hours and never gave running a second thought.

Exercise has never really been my thing--that is, until I discovered yoga back in 1994. Heart-thumping, liberating, acrobatic, and introspective all at once, this package deal clicked with me and my long limbs right away. I quickly subscribed to its noncompetitive spirit and never looked back.

However, my body is calling out for some cardio--and my soul is begging for more time outdoors. I enjoy my alone time, like listening to eclectic music, and am inspired to introduce another healthy habit into my life. I need balance. So what if I have floppy arms? So what if my stride makes me look like I am hopping over puddles?

"You achieve much once you stop telling yourself you can't do things."                                                                                   -- Elizabeth Kadetsky

Here I go. I'll start this weekend; one foot in front of the other, one minute at a time. Cool Running has a Couch to 5K running program for raw beginners. In two months--with a commitment of training just three times per week--I should be able to run a 5K (that's just over 3 miles for those of us who never really learned the metric system) by the beginning of October. Just as the air starts to develop its New England crisp and the leaves begin to change colors. All the more reason to be outside.

I've satisfied the productivity experts by declaring my plans. Next, it's time to answer to the fitness pros and register for a race. My favorite part of this assignment is that so many of them are tied to some sort of charity or nonprofit cause. So, pick your platform and let that serve as motivation and inspiration to kick butt.

The plan:

• Get fitted for a new pair of sneakers from the pros at Marathon Sports. Resist the nagging temptation to purchase a heart rate monitor or a cute running skirt.
• Take a nice, long walk in my new sneakers to break them in. Load up the mp3 player with some good, rollicking music.
• Sign up for an upcoming 5K run/walk. (I'm eyeing one in my old neighborhood that benefits the Travis Roy Foundation; I wish the Boston Race for the Cure was a bit later!)
• Begin the Couch to 5K program, starting with 60 seconds of jogging followed by 90 seconds of walking, for a total of 20 minutes.
• Keep at it--three times a week for the next two months, along with twice weekly yoga.
• Celebrate!

Can I do it? Of course I can. Not only am I really looking forward to spending more time outdoors--and getting in better shape--but I'm excited to carve out this additional 90 minutes per week to do some additional mental housekeeping. To-do lists, goals lists, daydreaming, story ideas, more daydreaming . . . bring it on. 

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© 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (These two photo copyrights are not my own--though I wish I could claim them. Don't you just love that dog face?)

Plenty Is a Mindset

We live in a culture of wants. It's no secret. Everywhere you look, you see covetable stuff. Shiny stuff. Pretty stuff. Fancy stuff. Cool stuff. I admit, I like stuff; however, I am also overwhelmed by it all.

The first thing I vividly remember wanting--with every pleading fiber of my nine-year-old self--was a pair of Nike sneakers. Ones with a lavender swoosh, like Amy Gardner's. I also wanted a baseball tee shirt with a silk-screened unicorn on the front and my name in fuzzy letters on the back. And a Cabbage Patch Kid (and another Cabbage Patch Kid). And let's not forget the Hello Kitty erasers and scratch-and-sniff stickers. I got all of those things, and pretty much everything else I've wanted for over the years.

Whoop de doo.

Want is an insatiably hungry beast. It took me a good, long time to realize all that stuff just gets in the way of truly living. My happiness has little to do with designer handbags or $200 jeans or a yoga wardrobe full of Lululemon gear. I am more than the sum of my possessions--and you are, too.

Last weekend I watched Into the Wild, and the message has been haunting me ever since: stuff does not equal happiness. As circumstance would have it, I've been a student of this philosophy for the last six months. While I would give anything not to be in this situation, it is perhaps the most valuable lesson I've ever learned, distinguishing want vs. need.

"Until you have it all you won't be free."                                                                                                                                                -- "Society" by Eddie Vedder

In order to experience that sense of freedom, you have to come to terms with the fact that you already have everything you need. Trust. Dig deep. Look in the way back of your closet. I promise, whatever you're looking for is there--as long as you're willing to be creative.

Can you cultivate your own definition of happiness--of "having it all"--with only the resources at your fingertips? Life is short. Time is passing. You can't afford to wait.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because less really is more.

Related posts: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Acceptance The Haves and the Have Nots

A Bunch of Caramels

It's inevitable. Get a group of females together and before long the conversation will shift to one (or both) of the following topics: marriage and babies. Even still, after a decade-plus of answering these questions, they make me squirm. It's exhausting being in the minority. Though I've noticed, the older I get, the more often I find that I'm not alone in choosing to sit out these rites of passage. And the more at ease I feel with these decisions.

There's a line in one of my favorite movies, Good Will Hunting, where Will and Skylar are just about to make plans to go out on a date. Skylar says, "Maybe we could go out for coffee sometime," and Will's responds with "Great, or maybe we could go somewhere and just eat a bunch of caramels." Their simple transaction so perfectly makes my point.

So often we gravitate toward doing things just because it sounds like the right thing to do--or because it's what's expected of you and the situation you're in--not because it's what we truly want to do. Why is that?

Had I fallen in love with someone else, I very well may have gone the marriage and babies route. Would it have been right for me? I'm inclined to think not. Not everybody's a coffee drinker, so to speak. But that doesn't make coffee bad. Or good. Though it sure is nice to have options.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--mentally and physically--to live happily ever after.

Something There Is that Doesn't Love a Wall

With the sky bright blue and a weekend without too many to-dos, I spent a lot of time outdoors this past weekend. Several hours reading--and marking up--my copy of Patti Digh's Life is a Verb, sipping iced raspberry green tea out on the patio, dipping every vegetable I could get my hands on into my doctored-up humus, marveling at the upside-down sky while in a standing split on top of my backyard hill, and taking lots and lots of walks. On these walks, I couldn't help but notice, it seems that only the little kids say hello. Unabashed hellos with wildly flailing hands and "outdoor" voices.

"Hihihi!" called out one little girl with plush, cupcake-like pigtails and pink shorts, her grandfather back in the distance.

"Hieeeee," squeaked a toddling boy dressed in Nemo pull-ups and splashing in his inflatable pool. His mother kept her back turned as I waved and squeaked back a hieeee.

And then there was Anthony, the bespectacled four-year-old who shouted out, "Can I pet your puppy?" as we walked by and then proceeded to wrap his arms around our old pooch Inky's neck and tell us how much he loved our dog and that he, too, had a puppy--a husky pup named Shadow--and that we could come over and meet him sometime soon. Whew. His parents encouraged him to say goodbye to "our puppy" and to let us go on our way. Truth be told--I was okay with engaging in preschool banter with a neighbor kid. I know that, in a couple of years, Anthony, the pull-ups kid, and cupcake curls will stop calling out their friendly hellos and extending hugs to docile neighborhood dogs. And that bums me out.

I attended this little utopia of a university out in Pennsylvania where everyone said hi to one another, whether you knew each other or not. I remember the first few times I was hello'd by smiling strangers, I didn't really know what to make of it. Being a third-generation New Englander, that's just not the way it's done back home. Why is that? What happens to us as we get older? And what was it about my little utopia that gave us all permission again to say hi to a stranger? The only thing that makes us strangers is the fact that we havn't yet said hello. Right?

There's a chapter in Patti Digh's book titled "Just Wave." She talks about the subtext of this gesture, calling it "a recognition of humanity on both . . . parts--a connection, however brief." Back when I was in my yoga teacher training program and giving it my all to make that connection--however brief--with my students, I had a quote from Chopra's Seven Spiritual Laws of Success (page 65, I think) that I would repeat over and over to myself : "When you experience uncertainty, you're on the right path, so don't give up." Those words kept me from keeling over mid-instruction--and did a little something to relieve the pressure of a "perfect" delivery.

Several months into teaching, I noticed my mantra had unknowingly morphed. Uncertainty had been replaced with connection. What I had been repeating over and over to myself was this:

"When you experience humanity, you're on the right path, so don't give up."

These moments of humanity, these extended connections with a community of strangers-turned-friends, made me feel like I was five years old again. Completely oblivious to Frost's walls.

So, what is it about our cold, long, New England winters; our reservedness; our need for privacy and boundaries that holds us back? When's the last time you made a connection with the person behind the check-out counter, next to you on the train, or walking down the sidewalk? What's stopping you? Do you need a double-dog dare?

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--both mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (photo © Pamela Glaysher)

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