my peace by cassie premo steele

8/12/2019 My Peace by Cassie Premo Steele

1/80


2/80

2

Wordclay1663 Liberty Drive, Suite 200

Bloomington, IN 47403www.wordclay.com

Copyright 2008 Cassie Premo Steele. All rights

reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in aretrieval system, or transmitted by any means without

the written permission of the author.

First published by Wordclay on 6/17/2008.

Printed in the United States of America.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.


3/80

3

At First There is a Yes

You've been there-- the dark, dark tunnel filled

with vines that capture you and hold you back

from your dreams. You struggle and struggle,

keep moving with all your might, but it is not

progress you're after. It's transformation.

I was there, too. A year ago, I was going through

a bad spell-- depression, no writing, my spirit

was dry. And one day an email came, inviting

me to join a yoga studio. And I said yes.

Maybe you, too, are wondering, looking at this, if

yoga is for you. The answer is yes.

So why did I do it?

Because in the end, all my struggling came down

to this: belief.


4/80

4

I was traveling through that dark tunnel of vines,

and my legs were strong but my arms were weak.

I could move and move, but staying still was a

problem. I needed help-- someone to sing to

me, teach me to breathe, allow me to dance. I

could not do it on my own. The tunnel was long.

The vines were wicked. The dark was cold and

unforgiving.

And so I stepped into a new moment and

decided to be new. Walk away from the past.

Refuse to rebuild the illusion of my own

weakness. Take a journey into my own

possibility.

It was so easy, really.

No one tells you this because they are so busy

trying to sell you a complicated elixir: all you

really need to do is to say yes to yourself.


5/80

5

And you are there. You are free. You are healed.

You are loved. You are strong. You are growing.

Say yes.


6/80

6

It didn't come all at once...

It didn't come all at once, of course.

There was the inevitable rush of newness when I

first started practicing yoga. And then the innermind struggles began. In a pose, I would arguewith myself: this is so easy, what's the point?

Then I would try to beat myself up: I'm no good

at this, I'll never do it right.

But through it all, I received encouragement

from the teachers. No matter how many

cigarettes I'd smoked or egg mc muffins I ate on

the way to class, I was always greeted with a

welcoming smile. Was it possible these people

weren't judging me? Was it possible I actually

was okay just as I was?

This was a bit too much for me to handle, so for


7/80

7

about three weeks, I skipped classes. Napped a

lot. It seemed the best way to quiet the voices

fighting in my head. I need a break was singing

with a rousing chorus of you'll never make

progress.

I got bored with the napping after a while and

returned to class. And sitting in meditation, my

teacher talked about being addicted to progress.

How we don't always have to struggle to get

better. How trying to be good can be a kind of

violence to the self.

I breathed deeply, and let it go. The voices. The

struggling. The judgment. The avoidance. The

competition. The constant bickering with

myself.

At first I said Yes. But now it was time to say

No.

I was starting to get it: balance. First a yes, then


8/80

8

a no. First the right side, then theleft. Stretch.Breathe. Be.


9/80

9

L e t t i n g i t B e

There are cultures where rest is revered. Banks

close for lunch. Merchants take a couple hours

off in the afternoon. Schools have a half day each

Wednesday. Families take month-long vacations

in the summer.

Ours is not one of them.

Is it our Puritan forefathers who haunt us from

their graves, insisting we earn our worth through

work? Or our immigrant foremothers who came

here to marry and work and forge independence

through labor? Is it the constant barrage of

advertising that makes us desire more and more,

for which we must strive and strive?

Whatever the reason, we Americans do not quite

grasp the importance of rest.

Yoga teaches that each motion must be balanced

by a rest. To be fully in an asana is torest into

it.


10/80

10

How many of us walk into our houses and see

them as places of refuge instead of tasks waiting

to be done?

How many of us bathe our children with the

attitude that this time with them, young and

buoyant in the water, is a gift rather thana

chore?

How many of us look in the mirror and

appreciate our health, our breath, our life

instead of seeing imperfections there?

At the end of each yoga class, we lie back in

shivasana. The word means corpse pose, and this

alone is enough to scare people. But isnt death

part of all cycles? Dont flowers have to let go

into seeds to make way for another season?

Try this: the next time you find yourself working

too hard, clenching your jaw, rushing around

feeling you have to get it all done, let it go. Just

stop, wherever you are, lie down, palms up, eyes

closed, and breathe.


11/80

11

Feel the flower in you letting go.

Feel the seed in you taking shape.

Feel the peace of where you are, right now, this

moment.

Let it be.


12/80

12

Grace

My daughterwaves her arms and dances afterdinnerher tummy is full, she is happy, and I

laugh.

My husband throws up his arms in the

morninghes late for the dentist, cant find his

keys, and I laugh.

A woman in Iraq shakes her arms at the crowd

before bowing down to her dead daughter. I cry.

A baby sea turtle tucks her arms into her sides,

confused by the lights from the boardwalk, and

refuses to go further. I cry.

I open my arms during warrior pose, feel my

fingers stretch all the way from my heart.

No laughter. No crying. Peace. In-between.

I rest, at shivasana, taking the whole world in,

admitting to myself how much I feel. How much

energy it takes to numb myself to these feelings,

day after day. My sensitive nature rises to the


13/80

13

surface with each breath, and for once, I do not

wish it away.

Instead, I pray.

And the teachers voice comes to me, Roll to

your favorite side. Feel yourself enveloped by a

blanket of grace.

Yes. Grace.

Grace is laughter and crying, paying attention,

letting wave after wave of emotion come and

then go. Grace is knowing we are all part of this

feeling, breathing, searching, being world.

Grace is accepting that we are pearls on the

strand of the worlds necklace, precious and rare,

yet just one of many on the same string.

Grace is not something we earn or achieve. It is

not found at the bottom of a well or the top of a

mountain.

It melts, like butter left out in the sun. It just

comes.


14/80

14

T a k e C a r e o f Y o u r H e a r t

The heart is full of surprises.

Not all of them are good. My husbands father,

for example, died suddenly from a heart attack

while on his way to lunch in New York City.

He was 57years old.My husband is 58. And last week, we discovered

a blockage in his heartdetectable only when he

was running fullspeed on a tread mill.So this week hell go in for a CT scan, and

possibly a catheterization, to fix the blockage.

What does this have to do with yoga?

Everything.

A few weeks ago, the beloved teacher Manju Jois

visited my yoga studio, and while at lunch with

some of us from one of the classes, he said,

Yoga was meant to be part of life. Those people

who make it their whole life are missing the

point.


15/80

15

My husband laughed when I told him this story.

Hes a yogi at heart, always chiding me about

moderation (when the ice cream comes out) and

balance (when I start getting obsessed over

something) and discipline (when I say I cant

take my daily walk because my iPod needs

syncing.)

And now this man, this yogi with a jump shot,

has been told

NoRunningNoWeightsTakeItEasyMaybeYoga.

After years of my encouraging him to try yoga,

he finally has; ironically, just weeks before the

news about his heart, hed begun taking private

yoga lessons with my teacher at the studio. (Did

I say encouraging? Ha! Nagging is more like

it.) The word encourage comes from the Old

French word for heart.

Let us remember our hearts.

Not just cholesterol counts and fears of early

death and tests, but the year after year love

chiding-nagging-encouraging of the ones we


16/80

16

love.

Take care of yourself.

Do your yoga.

I love you.


17/80

17

Walking Down the Red Carpet of Life

Today, one of my dreams came true: I read my

poetry at the South Carolina Book Festival. I was

so pleased to be there, so proud of the years I

kept writing, all the times I answered the

question, "What do you do?" with "I am a writer"

only to be countered with "Oh. Have I heard of

you?" that I felt like I was winning some kind of

award just by being there.

And lo and behold, what did I see as I

approached the entrance to the exhibit hall?

Nothing less than a red carpet flanked by two

life-size academy award statues.

Someone, some genius toiling away for the good

of the community of booklovers, came up with

the idea that each and every person who entered

the exhibit hall would walk the red carpet.

Feel special. Like a superstar. Winning an

award.


18/80

18

This is what I've found to be true: the more

AWARE you are of everything happening in and

around you, the more vivid the colors and

feelings of your life, the more you realize that

being alive is in itself an AWARD.

The other day in Ashtanga yoga, my feet were on

fire. Poses I'd long thought of as easy, evenrelaxing, were excruciating. Rather than suffer

in silence, I said something to my

teacher. "Think of all you've got going on," she

said. My husband's heart procedure (which went

well), a busy semester of teaching, the intensity

of preparing for the festival, my daughter's bout

of pneumonia, and saying yes to a new job

opportunity-- all within the last two weeks. "It's

grounding you," she said. "The pain is reminding

you to come down to earth." "But Ashtanga has

always been an upper for me before," I

said. "You're just becoming more aware of its

subtleties," she replied.

Aware. Feeling the feelings-- joyful and

painful. Acknowledging them. Out loud. Asking


19/80

19

for help when you need it. Remembering to

come back to the ground. These are the ways

that I stay aware. I will read again at the SC

Book Festival tomorrow-- and then I'll come

home, eat supper with my family, and then settle

in for a night of watching the Academy Awards,

cuddled by the green knit shawl that Ashley gave

me for Christmas.

And as I watch the stars walk, so human and so

hopeful, down the red carpet, I will count myself

among them.

Because I know how they feel. Grateful for

dreams coming true.

And you, too. You are a star. As long as you

remain aware, you win-- every day, in little ways-

- you win an award in the Academy of

Life. Dream your dreams. Say your

prayers. Find your feet. And walk down that red

carpet with me.


20/80

20

Opening the Heart

Here in the South, spring comes early. As I write

this, I'm out on my back porch on a clear blue

day, surrounded by bird song. Chickadees take

turns at the feeder, sparrows hop through the

just greening grass, and a crow calls from the

pine.

My yard, I know, is always this beautiful, this

magical, but I don't always take the time to sit

still and appreciate it. * This morning, in

Vinyasa flow, my teacher started class by having

us open our hearts.

Try it now: put your hands together at your

heart, and as you breathe in, open your arms out

to the front and then to the sides. Feel your chest

expand with the breath, let your heart say hello

to the world, and then close your arms, first to

the front of you, and then back to the heart as

you exhale.

Do it a few more times.

One of the purposes of yoga is to prepare


21/80

21

ourselves for everyday life--not just the dramasand crises that come our way, but the small

blessings that are in front of us every day.

Already today I have received so many: My

daughter came out of her room this morning,

already dressed and happy to meet the day. On

the way to school, she asked me who made the

first car, and I told her about Henry Ford--andhow her great-grandfather was his secretary. My

grandfather lived in Detroit, heard about what

this man was doing, and decided he wanted to be

a part of it. So he--who had been brought toAmerica at six months old from Czechoslovakia--walked up to HenryFord's door, and knocked.During shivasana at the end of class, my teacher

played the country song, "Georgia Rain," and I

was washed in memories of times I spent with

my good friend, Kimberly. Born and raised in

Georgia, she was my neighbor when my

daughter was little, and together we forged our

souls as mothers, writers and friends. She's back

in Georgia now, and her first novel will be out


22/80

22

this fall.

After class, I passed my husband, who was on his

way in to take yoga with his teacher. The sight of

him--so tall, so good looking--still thrills meafter all these years.

And now, in my backyard, taking a moment to

reflect on the heart and all the doors it opens it

opens for us, I am filled with gratitude

Open your heart. Open your door with a smile

on your face. Or knock on that door of

opportunity. Or press your heart next to the

heart of a friend.


23/80

23

I n t h e I n t e r i m

Just yesterday, I walked along the wild coast at

Hunting Island with my mother, husband, and

daughter, collecting shells and running through

the sea foam. It was a clear but windy day, and

the sound of the waves brought us all to a place

of peace.

Just days before, I'd attended the funeral of a

man who'd died suddenly from a heart

attack. After all the worrying about my

husband's heart I'd done over the past few

weeks, it struck me that no matter how good our

health seems, we can encounter death at any

time.

And rather than filling me with more worry, this

thought brought home to me how precious every

moment is.

We are all living in the interim.

How manytimes have you put off somethingimportant because you think you'll have time


24/80

24

later? That yoga class? That trip to see a

beloved? That painting you've been meaning to

do? Those words you've been meaning to say?

As we walked along the beach, my mother, who

is as outgoing as I am reflective, answered every

compliment about her dog with, "She's got

cancer. She hasn't long to live."

At first we laughed about it. "Jeez, Ma," I said,

"You're bringing everybody down."

But later as I thought about it, Irealized she wasgiving people an opportunity to really look, to

really love, if even for a moment, knowing that

life can be quite short.

I write, my mother opens up to strangers, my

husband cuddles our daughter on the couch--weall have ways of honoring each other and the

time we have been given. This week is spring

break for many universities--a week off to restfrom the intensity of work. Make this week your

spring break, your interim, your time to pause in

the midst of work and pay attention to what


25/80

25

really matters to you. And to say, "Thank You."


26/80

26

That Still Spot of Beauty

I've been thinking about motion and stillness:

how yoga helps us slow down so we can focus on

the peace within, but how a regular practice also

speeds things along. The paradox is that when

you take time for stillness, movement is more

possible.

I've felt this before-- the kind of synchronicity

that occurs when you're being faithful to your

deepest convictions. Yesterday when a friend

asked me how I was doing, I said, "Good. You do

good, you get good." Doing good does NOT

mean doing what other people think you should

do. It means going within to that still spot of

beauty that is the source of faith, creativity, life.

I do this through yoga and writing. Others might

do it through synagogue or church or mosque or

temple. The thing about yoga, though, as

opposed to religion, is that everyone has a body,

so it's pretty inclusive. Yoga is not about what


27/80

27

you can or can't do with your limbs but about

connecting the mind and body.

And the thing about writing is that everyone has

language. You might be intimidated by poetry,

but don't be. The fact that you are, I think on my

paranoid days, is a result of a multi-billion-dollar

grant paid to all public schools to get students tothink poetry sucks when, in truth, poetry can

rock the world.

Here's a poem I wrote last summer:

How the Rose Works

I get upsecond night of sleeping soundly, with

only one brief awakeningpast dawn.

The rose bush, already in the summer sun, just

glows. Some blossoms drying brown

on top, others down below, pinkly hot. Birds

flutter, twit, and sit. But I pay no mind.

My eyes watch the roses as I sip my tea and feel

fine. The rose does her work in silence,


28/80

28

like a writer or a yogi, focused and aware, moves

so slowly you cant see it unless patient

enough to sit for hours with a calm mind, and

simply stare.

This is how I want to live my life, still and

balanced, yet always growing, open to the cycles

of bud and blooming, full of beauty, roots deep,

thorns for protection, stalks strong with liquid

flowing up to feed the bees, emitting sweet

perfume into the air.

___

Did you feel it, as you read it? That still spot of

beauty, waking up in you, saying, "I'm here! Pay

attention! Stop working so hard at nothing! Stop

rushing around for no reason! Sit down. Breathe.

Let me speak."


29/80

29

You Can Do This, Too

Imagine there is a net, deep at the bottom of the

sea, where trapped human souls go to hide.It is tangled, messy like hair, full of fish bones

and debris. You have to make yourself very, very

tiny to get in. And once you do, it is dark. Quiet.

There are other souls there, but no one is

speaking.

They left their voices far behind, on the land.

They were needed for nagging and whining and

retelling the same sad story of a life gone

wrong.

You know the story. It is the kind without an

ending. The kind that goes on and on. Or the

kind where you bump up against a wall and don't

know which way togo, so you stand there,tantruming, blaming everyone you know, even

though it was your own two feet that brought you

there.

You see the story clearly now, from deep within


30/80

30

the quiet darkness of the net. The traps, on

land, that you set for yourself: Looking outside

yourself for happiness. Thinking having is more

important than being. Being dishonest about

your feelings.

There is no one to blame, and no one who can

save you: you know this now, from the center ofthe net.

Only you alone can untangle the strings to free

yourself.

Only your limbs can bring you up to the surface.

Only your lungs can help you breathe again.

You see others doing these things, and you think,Maybe I can do this, too.

And you do.

My dear, dear friend: I have been there. I got

out.

And you can, too.

You can.


31/80

31

We Yearn for Safety

Last week, my purse was stolen. So Ive been

longing for safety.

Like new cooks who cling to a recipe, we keep

the old formula at hand, following them to the

letter. God forbid we don't have a measuring

spoon. And yet these recipes--police reports,eyewitnesses, media attention, demands for new

laws--guarantee nothing. At some point whenwe are learning to cook, we realize that the

dinners, like our lives, are bland. There's no

spark of originality, no new taste that makes our

taste buds long for more.

And so we turn off the television. The new credit

cards arrive in the mail. Life returns to

normalcy. Yet what have we learned?

The Buddhist heart sutras say that what we

endow with great meaning, what we cling to, is

an illusion that keeps us from

enlightenment. Safety is just such an


32/80

32

illusion. The recipe is an illusion. The police,

the media, the legal system--illusions.This is not to say that they don't exist, but that

they have been created and we've convinced

ourselves that they are necessary and

permanent. Nothing is permanent.

And yet believing in permanence is

dangerous. It means that we can allow ourselves

to live out the script of a false life--a life of falsesafety, false speech, false satisfactions, false

sanity.

And it is in clinging to the illusion itself that we

allow ourselves to ignore other violence. The

daily 'domestic' violence against girls and

women that we tell ourselves are 'isolated

instances.' The daily bloodshed of people on

their way to work or school that we cover with

terms like 'insurgency.' Governments and

institutions ruled by the greedy who refuse to

curb their appetites.

Become aware of the presence of this moment--


33/80

33

this moment and no other can bring us to a place

of peace. We are a movement culture--images,cars, appointments. We rush in and out of

everywhere and never really go anywhere. Even

in the midst of this, we can be still. We can

breathe peace. And then, later, ask

youself: What is your true service? Do it. What

is it you truly want to say? Say it. What would

create a world of true safety? Create it.


34/80


35/80


36/80

36

But it is not too late. It is never too late to begin

again. The woman walks away. You close your

eyes. It is night. You are alone in the darkness.

And yet not lonely, not hungry, not sad, not

angry. Simply alone. And now, only now, are

you ready to go home. For only from the bottom

of your self can you truly connect with others.


37/80

37

Summer. Time. Fun.

In the season of sun and water, beaches and

barbeques, we often think to ourselves: where is

the fun?

Is it to be found under the sprinklers misting

rainbows over barefeet?

Or in a quiet card game played with our children

mid-afternoon?

We wish.

We wish for fun. Summer means fun, right? Butnot if you're exhausted.

Not if you've had no time to yourself. This

summer, I challengeyou to change your idea offun.

Wake up at sunrise. Greet the birds. Listen to

their song.


38/80

38

Here is what I heard at sunrise in Magny,

France:

A mourning dove cries--the same language as athome. I am reminded of the birds before the

bombs in Baghdad, just before the dawn, and

wonder if they are a comfort to the soldiers

there, a sign that everywhere nature speaks is

home. And then I hear a cuckoo in the distance--and a cock--always before they were pretend

things on clocks, in children's songs--andthink that no, perhaps even the earth can

mock us in our violence, so far from home.

What is it that you hear from your perch when

you wake up early? (Don't tell me you don't have

the time. Isn't that, in itself, a kind of

violence?) Do it. Set your clock. Listen.

And then tell me: isn't the rest of your summer

day just a bit more peaceful?


39/80

39

And what, exactly, does peace mean?

If peace is not fun, then what are we rushing

around trying to achieve?

Slow down.

Even the sun, in the summer sky, takes its time.


40/80

40

Into the Emptiness

In today's yoga class, my teacher started with a

simple exercise: writing. On one slip of paper,

we were to write what we are ready to let go. On

another, we wrote what we wanted to let enter

our lives. Thenwe crumpled up the first slip ofpaper and threw it to the side of the room near

the door.

They sat there, trash ready to be taken out, and

we began the meditation before the yoga set. The

meditation was about emptiness.

We can see ourselves as clay vessels, the

meditation said, that hold a sacred nothingness,and out of this our breath can flow, in and out,

bringing peace.

My teacher went on to lead us in a forward

bending set, which focuses on letting go in mind,

body and spirit. There is a lot ofsadness inletting go. Those pieces of paper lying on the

floor called out to us, "Take me back!"


41/80

41

The reason why it's sometimes hard to let go is

that we want to avoid the emotions associated

with looking into our clay vessels with honesty

and integrity. We might get angry. We might

feel ashamed. We might be sad. But that's okay.

Because as the emotions swim through us like

fish through an ocean, we begin to feel the

enormity of that ocean, its constant rhythm

calming us, bringing us peace.

"Peace" was what I'd written on my second slip

of paper. After the class, another woman shared

with me that she'd written "Peace," too. We

laughed. Isn't that what we all want?

Try this: write down what you want to let go,

crumple it up, and throw it away. And then

breathe. Feel the emotion. Feel the

emptiness. Feel the peace. Time for you to let

go of the old and let the winds of new come

through.


42/80

42

Slowing Down

Have you ever been in a yoga class and glanced

at a clock and thought, "Only 10 minutes have

gone by? I feel like I've been to the Bahamas and

back!" This time-slowing-down sensation is a

result of steadying our breath, becoming

conscious and aware of our bodies, and allowing

our minds to relax.

Remember this the next time you're stuck in

traffic, late for something, staring at your car's

clock, willing it to stop: You have chosen this

stress. You can choose differently.

You can get a babysitter one time in the next

month and vow to yourself to attend that yoga

class. (This doesn't mean that you have to go to

that class every-week-or-else-you're-a-failure.

This kind of thinking keeps you stuck. Just do

one class. As my friend Val taught me, "Baby

steps.")

You can set your alarm just a tad earlier, wake in

the dark, light a candle, and breathe before you


43/80

43

start your day.

If you spend most of your time indoors, go

outside. Smell the freshly mown grass. Dig in

the dirt. Remember why this season used to be

your favorite season.

And when you're tempted to go to the mall or

Walmart to distract yourself, stop. Think all all

the junk already in your closets. Think about the

people who don't have enough. Take that money

you would have spent on one more camisole and

another pair of earrings and write a check to a

cause you care about. Sure, it only takes five

minutes, not the whole day. But weren't you the

one just a few minutes ago nodding your head at

how fast time flies by?

So, stop. Think of all the time stretching out

between now and sundown. Do not fill it up.

Feel how it is alreadyfull. How much youalready have in your life.


44/80

44

Breathe in gratitude. Breathe out generosity.

And in between the breaths, feel time slow down

like sundown.


45/80

45

When You Least Expect it

Do you remember the "super" named Dwayne

Schneider on the old show from the seventies,

One Day at a Time?

My sister, mom, and I used to watch this show

religiously since it was about the trials and

tribulations ofa perky divorcee and her twoteenage daughters.

The "super" was the father-figure, and one bit of

wisdom he used to impart to the family was,

"When you least expect it, expect it."

Dwayne was a yogi.

I have found that this kind of attitude helps a lot

with all sorts of situations--weather,mothering,health, traffic.

If you start out "expecting it," you'll be in the

right frame of mind when all heck breaks loose.

And instead of pumping up the drama, you'll

take a time out, breathe, count to ten, and


46/80

46

breathe again.

If you start the journey at peace, you just might

have a chance of arriving in one piece.

Blessings.


47/80

47

Survivor Song

A feeling of solid warmth lives now in my chest.

A certainty, a kind of faith, a stone of security.

No loss, no fear. I am past tears. I am here.

Where I am going I do not know and I keep

changing my mind about where Ive been but I

know who I am and its showing in my eyes and

my smile and my glow from within.

I am a survivor.

You cannot imagine the darkness Ive seen. But

I washed it and ate it and came out alive and

clean.

These are my breasts, now, the milk of my

heartmy words and my actions, what follows,

what I give you, as you begin your own journey,

as you start.


48/80

48

Start over again. Start from the heart to be safe,

to heal.

The energy that will heal you is not a push or a

kick, not violent--but happy spirals that cling toeverything saying, We forgive.

So get it out, let it go, let it float, let it grow. See

the spiral in your eyes as you lookinto themirror. Let it change your vision.

This is now, it is the time, time to go, time to

grow, time to stop talking about the problem,time to come up with a solution. Solve it. Love it.

Be it. Lose it.

See it go away and spiral back again, no

beginning, no end. Its here. Heart. Its here.

Heaven. Its here. Heart. Its here. Heaven. Its

here.


49/80

49

Re-Soul-utions

We try to make resolutions all the time. Stop

smoking. Be nicer to our ex. Lose 20 pounds. Eat

healthy. Ask for a raise. Take better care of

yourself.

Argh! It's all a bit overwhelming, isn't it? Itmakes me want to grab chocolate and head for

bed. Hide. Numb out. Escape.

I have another idea: let's try looking at

resolutions as Re-Soul-utions.

Here are three ways you might do that:

1. Instead of thinking about what you want to do

differently, reflect upon what you've already

accomplished this year. I did this in a workshop

with my friend Rebecca Jacobson (check her out

at womansoul.com) and it was amazing to count

up the number of things I'd done. It helped me

feel less anxious and more grateful.

2. Resolve to make no changes. You are perfect


50/80

50

as you are. Think of yourself as a delicate being

in need of loving care, and hug and nurture

yourself. Bathe yourself gently. Feed yourself

with smiles. Let yourself rest when you are tired.

Instead of berating yourself to be better, be

better, be better, try loving yourself as you are.

True change comes from this.

3. Be a Soul-ution. Are you concerned about the

environment? Resolve to dedicate 5% of your

income on a regular basis to an environmental

organization. Feel bad for the homeless and

hungry? Resolve to volunteer. Concerned about

kids? Tutor or become a Big Brother or Sister.

It's not all about you. We're in this together.


51/80

51

M y F r i e n d N a m e d T r e e

I have a friend named Tree. For over ten years

now, we have been writing to each other,

whispering confidences like the wind whispers

through branches.

She calls me Bird. I hop and scurry and fly and

twitter around and she stays still, calm, patient,

constant. Every birdneeds a tree. Every treeneeds a bird.

Think of the Tree Pose. Tall and graceful are the

arms, yet deep and secure are the roots. Life

needs up and down. Life demands balance for

growth.

What brings balance to your life? Nurture it.

Feed its roots. Water them daily. Make the soil


52/80

52

moist and full of minerals. Feel how attending to

the roots adds to the branches.

We are all connected.

And even in the winter, when all is still and

frozen, we are growing. Resting is part of

growing.

Who is the Tree in your life? Tell them. It's the

best gift you could give.


53/80

53

The Door of Peace

A few days ago, my house was robbed. The

burglars bashed in my husband's study door and

took, among other things, our computers. As

writers, our computers mean more to us than

any other possession, so we've been having to do

a lot of yogic breaths...

It's not as if we didn't have anger or sadness. We

did.

I fantasized about taping my voice to a loud

speaker than runs constantly from my rooftop,shouting, BACK OFF YOU MOTHER F---ERS!

STAY AWAY YOU NO GOOD A--HOLES! YOU

HEARD ME!

GET BACK, M--F---S---O-B--CHES!

Then I took a breath. And laughed.

My husband had tears in his eyes when he


54/80

54

thought about how long we've lived here and

how we've come to see that the neighborhood is

really not safe anymore. So we've decided to

move.

So it all works out, right? Well, we can't really

know. And being okay with not knowing is thedoor to peace.

When we start thinking in either/ors,we losepeace of mind. Either this is a tragedy or a

salvation... Either this was terrible or a good

warning sign.... Either we're cursed or

chosen.... Neither good nor bad.

That's the phrase that came to me upon waking

the morning after the robbery.

Neither good nor bad.

It just is.


55/80

55

Body of Kindness

Too often in America, the body is a thing, an

object, a nuisance, an enemy. And our

relationship to it is oppositional.

How often have you done the following:

___ eaten too much or had too muchto drink inorder to comfort yourself

___ turned to cigarettes or other substances to

get through stress

___ skipped meals or gone hungry in order to

get or stay thin

___ worked out with a vengeance, trying to beat

yourself into shape

___ skippedwork outs and numbed yourself

with television or naps

___ looked in the mirror and thought,

"Ewww...."

In yogic philosophy, Ahimsa or non-violence


56/80

56

begins with kindness to ourselves and our

bodies. Let's take a look at these violent

behaviors toward ourselves in another way.

Imagine, for example, that as a group, we were

acting this way toward people in another

national or ethnic group.

Would you support

___ pushing substances on people to help them

forget their problems?

___ starving people to keep them in line?

___ beating people?

___ looking at others with prejudice and hate?

We think of collective non-violence in very

concrete ways thanks to leaders like Ghandhi

and King. Think of the differences those leaders

have made in the world. Think of the differences

that could take place in your life and the lives of

the people around you if you were to practice

non-violence against the self. What is one kind

thing you could do for yourself today?


57/80

57

American Idol and the Inner Voice

My daughter and I watched some of the

American Idol audition show last night--we'vebeen fans of the show for years, and it made me

reflect upon time and growth andchange. Thefirst thing I noticed was how differently my

daughter responds to the show now that she is

eight years old. When she was around four, she

would see herself as every contestant, in a kind

of giddy, "I'm as good as that, if not better" way.

She would sing and dance along. Our living room

was the stage, and I was every judge, always

loving whatever she did. As years passed, she

began to feel more empathy and emotion for the

contestants. She liked them and wanted them to

do well. If a judge was mean, she would burst

into tears. I remember holding her, telling her

the rejected person would be all right.

But now, she sees something different. The show

is not so much about what the judges say about

the contestants, but the pure courage and inner


58/80

58

light of each person who gets up there and sings.

"They're all good," she said last night, "because

they all got up there to sing."

Don't we all follow a similar trajectory as we

move along our spiritual and emotional

paths? At first it is all about me, me, me. You

start yoga or start eating healthy because youwant to look better, you want to be less stressed,

you want peace. You, you, you. There's nothing

wrong with that. And your teachers are like the

mothers who love unconditionally, giving two

thumbs up for every living room performance. It

is this love that will move you down the road.

Then you start to notice other people. You've

achieved a bit of peace and clarity for yourself,

and this allows you to feel compassion for

others. You reach out to help. You bite your

tongue. You breathe. You pass on the love you've

been given.

And then there comes a day when it's not about

you or them--you're not criticizing yourself forhow far you can stretch, nor comparing yourself


59/80

59

to others. You see the light ineveryone. TheMcDonald's drive thru lady. The bully kid at

school. The annoying coworker. The slow driver

in front of you.

"They're all good," you say to yourself. "Because

they're all singing."


60/80

60

Spirit of Kindness

Is Spirit kind?

Do we get what we deserve?

If we are good, does Spirit reward us? If Spirit is

kind, then can it also be angry?

I sometimes ponder these questions during Yin

Yoga--postures that ask us to stay on that edgebetween relaxation and pain in our stretch--which gives us the chance to see how our mind

reacts in uncomfortable situations.

I find myself fleeing into the future, making

plans in my head, in order to escape my

feelings.

This is what we do with ourselves--we run away,and in doing so, we run away from Spirit.

Can someone hand you a cup of comfort if you

are running like a chicken with your head cut

off?


61/80

61

Picture it spilling all over the place--and thenyour anger at the mess.

"Oh, great!" we say to Spirit. "Now look at the

mess you've caused!"

Try this: sit on the floor with your legs in front of

you, a pillow on your thighs. Bend forward,

breathing into the stretch, and then stay there

for the length of a song. See what happens.

And remember: we can only sip from the cup of

comfort if we are calm and still enough to receive

it.


62/80

62

L o s s , A n g e r a n d A c c e p t a n c e

Try this: quickly write down one situation of

LOSS in your life. Then one situation that has

made you ANGRY.

Then put on a CD or your iPod or the radio and

dance.

During the first song, dance out your grief,

sadness, loss: let it flow through your body.

Enact the feelings through postures, sweeps,

jumps and swirls. Let yourself feel it.

And during the second song, allow anger,

resentment, and rage to rush over you. Pound

out the beat. Clap, jump, shimmy, shake.

Welcome the fire.

And then, during a third song, LET YOURSELF

DO A DANCE OF ACCEPTANCE OF WHO YOU

ARE.

~


63/80

63

The way to peace is not through a lack of conflict.

In fact, conflict often stirs us to courage, rising

up, and independent action.

Think of the teenager fighting with his father

and how this spurs him to move out on his own.

So, it is not disagreement, loss, anger, or

disappointment we must avoid in our search for

peace.

Rather, it is the acceptance and celebration and

meaning-making of those experiences that will

bring us peace.


64/80

64

The Body of Truth

In the last few reflections, we looked at the yogic

principle of Ahimsa/Kindness and tried to

experiment with staying kind in our minds while

we stretch.

But now, we move to a bit harderconcept:Satya/Truth.

Kindness without Truth can be rationalization.

Think of it this way: Kindness is the writing, the

words we tell ourselves, as we go about our day.

"You are fine. You can do this," you might say to

yourself when you get a phone call with some

news that stresses you out.

But then Truth comes in. Think of Truth as the

metal that allows the writing, or mental attitude,

to manifest itself in reality.

Kindness without Truth can allow you to use

caring self-talk without the action necessary to

bring about wisdom.


65/80

65

For example, you might hang up the phone after

receiving the bad news, tell yourself you are fine,

but run from the truth of the situation by not

following up on what needs to be done... or

having a tantrum, pigging out on ice cream, or

driving like a maniac in5:00traffic.If you were to connect Kindness with Truth, youwould know that you need to respond with

actions that are True to who you are.

Breathe into your heart. Pay attention to your

body. Find the feeling that you are carrying that

makes this event so stressful for you. And then

be the metal--pick up the phone, make theappointment, do what needs to be done to rectify

the situation and bring peace and clarity to all

involved.


66/80

66

Truth and Love

I've been thinking about Satya / Truth, one of

the important philosophical limbs of yoga, and

how it relates to love.

Truth, like love, is not always sweet-smelling or

full of sugar.

We want to make it so. We want to skim the

cream from the top of life and ignore the rest.

But when we do this, we are not living in truth.

We are in denial.We are toddlers, bangingagainst the floorboards, screaming "I want it

now!"

But truth, like love, is full of hard work. It is your

great-grandmother waking before dawn to milk

the cows. Not just the sweet cream. But all of it.

The dark and cold of a February morning.

The smell of the cow poop.

The itch of the hay underfoot.

The day ahead, full of chores.


67/80

67

She milked like a rural yogi, though, squeeze

after squeeze, rhythmically present to the task at

hand.

Think of her when you think of truthand love,and then pick a task you can do and do it with

patience, with presence, with the truthful

awareness that this is your life, now, in the tiny

actions, seemingly insignificant but oh so full of

love.


68/80

68

Moving

Today is our moving day, and you won'tbe

surprised to learn that I've been reflecting on the

whole concept of moving. (I'd love, for instance,

to go to one of my books and look up the origin

of the word "moving" because we can learn so

much from the histories of things, but alas, allmy books are in boxes!)

Moving: to be emotionally engaged by

something.

Yesterday, when the wife of the couple who

bought our old house told me she likedthe wayI'd painted my daughter's bedroom, I was so

moved. That dream of having someone who will

love your house as you have--and the sadness,too, of letting go--came true in that moment forme.

Moving: to be in motion.

I don't think I've ever spent as much time on my

feet (and hands and knees) as I have this past


69/80

69

month. Spending six hours a day packing,

cleaning, organizing becomes a kind of drug. It's

hard to slow down. As Pam said at the beginning

of Gentle Yoga last week, slowing down can feel

like slamming on the brakes in your car: the car

stops, but objects fly all around.

Moving through: to come to terms with, payattention.

In packing, I've touched every book, every dish,

every physical piece of our lives, and cherished,

discarded, let go, or saved each one. It's helped

me see how very full my life is, and feeling this

fullness helps me let go of what I no longer

need.

Moving: to move something from one place to

another.

When my husband and I were first married, we

took a canoe ride in the marshes off Kiawah

Island. I volunteered to "lead" because I'd

canoed before and he hadn't. But I wore my butt

out trying to steer the boat when I really didn't


70/80

70

know what I was doing. We zigzagged back and

forth into the marsh grass over and over until

the guide came back and told us to switch

positions. I needed to let someone else take over.

I've thought of this experience so often over the

last ten years, and it helps me to remember that

moving does not have to mean being in control

or being in charge. We're in this together.

Moving on: to leave, say good bye.

Driving home from the closing of our "old" house

yesterday, my husband and I cried, sad to leave

behind the memories of all this house holds. We

came home and looked at the photo of our whole

family that was taken on Christmas Day in 1999,

five days after the birth of our daughter. So

much happiness, and yet such loss: my

stepfather and his mother, who are in the

picture, have both passed away since that day.

My daughter is a tall, smart 8year old--not mybaby anymore. My stepdaughter is a grown

woman. Yet there they are, in the photo,

surrounded by the loving walls of this house. It's


71/80

71

a good house. It's a good life.

Maybe sometimes it's in moving on that we are

are moved by all we've been given, and our

hearts open in grateful movement. And like our

heartbeat, we begin again and again.


72/80

72

March to a Different Drummer

Now we'll begin our exploration of the third

yama or yogic principle, Asteya, non-stealing.

With all the latest news on how Americans are

tightening belts, giving up small luxuries, andworried about gas prices and the economy, this

is a good time to think about possessions,

money, budgets, stuff--all our "stuff" and howit's connected to our "stuff."

So what does Asteya mean? Here's how

Wikipedia defines it: "The concept is frequently

confused as being an equivalent of the Westerncommandment 'Thou shall not steal' although in

principle it means more than that. Asteya refers

to not stealing, not coveting, nor hoarding, as

well as not obstructing other people's desires in

life."

Hmmm...let's think about that. In our culture,


73/80

73

it's almost a sin to not want. We're bombarded

all the time with ads and pressures and

incentives to spend and acquire and get more,

more, more.

I've been thinking about this in terms of the

Earth andgoing green, though.

Either we pay the price or she does. Either we

learn to ride the bus, walk, bike, hang up our

clothes on the washline, recycle, reuse and

reduce our consumption... or she will pay for it,

and that means we'll all be dead. An

inconvenient truth, but true.


74/80

74

Asteya and Abundance

I believe that one of the best ways to understand

Asteya is to cultivate a sense of Abundance. One

of the Hindu goddesses that has taught me the

most about abundance is Lakshmi.

Many years ago my husband gave me a brass

statue of Lakshmi for Valentines Day. I hadnt

known anything about her, so I called my friend,

Christi, who read me these traits from a book

while I copied them down:

Sri Lakshmi

~giver of vitality to all living things

~domestic cooperation

~shakti ~joy

~creative fertility

~goddess of abundance

~rich harvest


75/80

75

For years after, Id thought of Lakshmi in terms

of "stuff" only. She was sort of an Ivana Trump-

like figure to me. Put notes under her statue for

things you want. A good hotel suite at a

reasonable price for an anniversary trip. A book

published. A successful workshop.

But over the years I've come to see the wisdom in

her gift of domestic cooperation. With a recent

move, a busted pipe over the weekend, and

delivery or repairmen coming in and out every

single day, I worry about my house a lot these

days. And whenever I am worried about my

house, my financial, emotional, or spiritual

house, I sometimes get up in the night, the house

dark and asleep, and go to my yoga mat. First, I

write whatever is worrying me. Then I put the

pen and notebook down, and lie down.

I relax my body, breathe, and focus in on one

part of my body that needs attention. And I

imagine that Lakshmi is tending to me, to that

part of me that needs to remember peace.

It is Lakshmi who reminds me that the key to


76/80

76

domestic tranquility comes from paying

attention to the self, which is an endless source

of abundance and creative vitality within.


77/80

77

Nest Eggs

I woke early this morning and had the fabulous

opportunity to see winter leave and spring come

in.

When I woke, it was dark, rainy and windy. The

tall pines along the creek waved in the night, andthe lights even went out briefly.

Winter went with a flourish of her scarf.

But by sunrise, the clouds had dispersed and the

light shone so brightly that the little leaves on

the evergreens shimmered.

I love spring. I love daffodils and daylight

savings time and nests of eggs.

***

As we continue to reflect upon the gifts of

Asteya, think about the eggs in your nests:

children, loved ones, your body, your health,

your home, your ideas and projects.

Honor them.


78/80

78

Feel the abundance of the many gifts we have

already been given.

Feel the new season being ushered in.


79/80

79

The ABCs of Support Systems

A affirmations

B breathing mindfully

C collages

D dancing

E eating healthily

F friends

G going slowly

H happiness

I incense

J joy

K kick away the past

L letting go

M making promises

N naming it

O opening

P priorities

Q question patterns

R rest

S sit down and look around

T take time

U unpack

V violets in the yard

W walk it out

X X out doubt

Y yes

Z zest


80/80

my peace by cassie premo steele

Documents