Last Thursday, I ventured north to Bellingham, Washington for my long anticipated class with Shiva Rea. I had never driven that far on my own before (about five hours), and the writer in me created all kinds of awful scenarios in which I did not return in one piece (the price for creativity!).  I prepared for many eventualities, every last duck in a row, and left very dark (seriously Spring, no need to be so shy) and early.  Thankfully, the drive went off without a hitch, a succession of NPR news stories, jazz, and rock and roll.

When I exited the highway hours later, my stiff legs itching for a stretch (yoga!), I had the first of many indications that none of my visions of doom would come to fruition.  The sun started to peek through the clouds and a Bald Eagle swooped over my car.  Talk about a warm welcome!

I arrived at the class after a picture perfect afternoon (more on that tomorrow), a warm, light-filled room, with equally warm and friendly strangers of all stripes.  Then Shiva arrived and the magic began.  With the beat of a drum, the raven spirit invocation (even more auspicious, considering my deep love of crows and ravens), curious, mischievous, dancing and spreading his wings, inviting us all to fly.  This was followed by a truly amazing, heart liberating kirtan with Dave Stringer (like this).  I sang at the top of my voice, every cell pulsing, full of joy, and ready for practice.  The sadhana was kick-my-ass challenging with moments of silliness too (Shiva is funny!), everything I hoped for, infused with grooves from Dave and his cohort, and a final round of chanting to bring the magical practice to a close.

It’s pretty amazing when someone you’ve admired for a long time lives up to your expectations, live and in person, and a bit of a relief, too.  I’ve been practicing with Shiva for the past six years, her work, and ours together, inspiring me more than I ever could have imagined.  So when it came came time to thank her, for everything, that in the flesh, no going back, she’s standing right in front of me moment, rather than take my hand extended in gratitude, she embraced me, a hug between “old” friends.  A perfect day, a perfect sadhana, made all the more sweet.  Namaste.

p.s. I hope to get a picture with Shiva next time!

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I realize that this came out a few years ago, but, as I have said before, I’m not terribly good at being of the moment, so there you go.  Besides, good funny is timeless.  “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!”  In any case, if you like me and my sense of humor, watch this.  Gaffigan is clean (I might like to drop an f-bomb from time to time, but I’m not crazy about hearing it), subtle, likes to talk about food, and offers spot-on commentary in the third person.  “He’s weird.”  “Is that a blouse?”  “Watch it fella!”  The hubster and I nearly wet ourselves with laughter.  That doesn’t happen nearly often enough!

Notorious

Forget safety.
Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.

Malwana Jalal-al-Din Rumi


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After what seemed like an interminable amount of time without sun or warm temperatures, there was an extra special treat of nearly cloudless skies and sixty-eight degrees on Friday.  We in Portlandia were dancing a proverbial jig, my friends.  I celebrated by mowing the very long lawn, which was more than eight inches tall in some places.  I kid you not.  It was a fine workout, going over it three times, with our earth friendly, but very inefficient electric mower.  To top it off, I took a leisurely stroll to the library (come along with the photos below…), camera in hand, sunglasses on, a warm weather rock star out for a good time.  Ho ho!

Today we are back to the grey and cold, with ice cube toes to prove it and a mushy mind that is taking ages to write this post, but whatever.  I am happy.  The weekend was a ten.  I’m meeting Shiva Rea this week (dancing another jig), seeing an old friend for the first time in more than twenty years (thanks Facebook!),  and generally creating my own sunshine.  I hope you are, too!

Somebody bottle this!

Delicate, but tough, this flower.  A bit like me, maybe.

The truck in the background matches.  They’re an outfit!

Bare Shade

A favorite house: a fantastic yard teeming with flora and fauna and the biggest rosebush known to man.

Sun + Shade = Heaven

Magnolia Sky

Tricksters: they smell like garlic!

If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.

Daphne du Maurier

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