I Found My Bodhi Tree


I found my Bodhi Tree 

After class today @balancedlifecenters we had a short discussion about what yoga is. Yoga is not just postures and movement. It is a return to our home, the knowingness of connections and oneness, a return to that place we felt safe to just be without our defense mechanisms up that cause us to grow tight and tense over time physically and calculated and protecting our thoughts mentally. The process of this healing work can often be painful because we are returning back home often by walking through some of our old experiences and pains, but as one student said, “but it leaves us feeling good.” 

We can find yoga in a multitude of ways, Siddhartha found it meditating for 7 days under the bodhi tree which is translated as the tree of enlightenment or awakening. We walk our own path and must find our own path back and some of us are blessed to find the guides that help facilitate that journey, whether it be a guru, child, or even one who might bring out the darkness in us. 

Namaste to this journey of home. 

Pyramids


Egyptians, Mayans, Aztecs, 

Ancient civilizations,

Building perfect pyramids

As a collective 

Sacred and divine,

And we the evolved

Now call ruins.

 We have revolved,

Struggling to rebuild our own temple,

Born perfect,

On our own

Ruined,

What was sacred and divine. 

Generator, Operator, Destructor 


Me and my bean, we’ve seen things.

We’ve stared into each of our eyes so intently that we’ve seen God.

We do this for minutes and he doesn’t turn away.

I don’t turn away.

We just stare until our hairs rise and we giggle

Because I helped create him and he helped resurrect me. 

When I hum and he hums we breathe in the same things and we mmmmmmmmmmmmm

Until we smile because it feels good to be one sound.

And when he’s tired he curls up like a little bean, legs and arms tucked right on my lap with his ear by my chest,

I wrap my arms around him until our heart beats the same again and we return home,

Both of us a whisper who haunts gods dreams and lure him to play king of the forest,

Until we open our eyes and forget 

and 

repeat.

Bird Song 

Bird Song

Morning light and sweet treats,

Expanding wings in clear dreams 

Deep breath into floating feet,

Water flowing through my soul with ease. 

Moving to my birds songs

Mornings light 

Sweet treats

Clear dreams 

Soul at ease  

Flight in feet.
Weekend schedule:

@balancedlifecenters Saturday gentle yoga at 9:00 am

@oliveyogalb Subbing Sunday 8:00 am yin yang yoga and 10:00 am prana flow 

String Theory 

My name echoed from every dimension of each universe,

Ripples rewinding into one defined point as Goddess conceived me into existence whispering my name, 

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah…..”
I am born again and again and again from that dark open space where thoughts form words to be spoken into vibration then into being as she plucks a string again and again whispering my name as a song made of pure sound and the reverberations sliding through the tight particles of each invisible filter of worlds back into that single point of light at the center of my universe. 

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah…”

I did not see, but hear myself born into being,

Perpetually formed. 

The sage priestess sweeping gold dust and broken glass from the remnants of a shattered hour glass onto a dustpan while guiding me to float in between the panes of universes to experience my creation. 
And each time I hear my name called,

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah….”

I remember. 

  

 

The Star

The Star

Consistently be the same person with every circle, connection, space, 

Plat•form 

In the hats you pair with the trade you share. 

Be able to trust 

And trust “Love is real,

Real is love.”

Always learning from the foil.

Telekinesis 

“Mom, if you meditate a lot, can you move things?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Like move things with your mind.” He puts his hands by his temples and looks at me inquisitively. “Because my dad says if you start moving things with your mind, he wants to see it.” 

I laugh, “why? Did you tell your dad that meditating will teach you to move things with your mind?” I’m having an aha moment because I wondered why Elijah is more open to meditating and chanting than asana. 

“Yeah! And he says he wants to see it if you do. But can you? If you meditate a lot?”

“Well that is one belief and I think anything is possible.” And right at the moment, a huge container truck was slowly turning into a shopping plaza. Elijah was so occupied he didn’t see it and I raise both hands and say, “watch!” And he looks up at the road to see this huge container turning to block the road with the driver cab on the other side of the truck so it looked as if it was floating. His mouth drops and then laughs as the driver becomes visible. 

“Ha. You didn’t do that. It’s a truck!” And he’s still laughing for being fooled for a moment. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t really trying to move the truck. I was trying to move you to laugh. We can move the heart, and we can move the energy. Are you feeling happier already?”

He laughs a different kind of laugh. “Yes.” He says smiling and content with that. 

Resilient

Resilience

Instinctively we want to draw in and close up into a tight ball as if our body’s a fist to protect the softness within. 

Yet if we open up and let the whole body soften so that whatever tramples upon us moves right over us and we become unbreakable rather than impenetrable. 

Open up,

Take a deep breath,

Relax and sink,

And experience the strength of softness

Then,

“Yes we can!”

“The Giving Tree” revisited 

“The Giving Tree” revisited 
His new favorite book is “The Giving Tree”

It’s the first book my dad bought me. I remember staying home sick from school one day because I wanted to go to work with him. Back then my dad had like 5 jobs to support my family and one was cleaning homes. I begged and begged to wash the windows because the squeegee looked like fun. He let me do a window and I read “The Giving Tree” over and over again on a porch until I could read it so fast that I didn’t have to pause to turn the page. 

     “Mom. Can you read “The Giving Tree” 

“Of course.” I respond with warmth because I love the book so much.” As I read, he finished the sentences because we read it over and over again. I have tears streaming down my face.

He says,”and the tree loved the boy,” in his loud, strong voice,”very much! Mom! Mom! You be the giving tree, and I’ll be the boy. You say, come, eat my apples!”

And we reenact each page and I’m laughing and crying,”hey, but don’t leave me and take all my apples and cut my trunk. How does the tree look?”

“The tree is happy, but but but she looks sad.” He says empathetically. “Mom, but I want to a boat! Can you give me a boat?”

“Sure baby!”

“No, you say, ‘I don’t have a boat.”

“Ok,” I say in my high motherly giving tree voice, “but I don’t have a boat. You can cut down my trunk and make a boat. Then you can sail far far away from here. And you will be happy.”

He hugs me with that smile where his whole face smiles. And I cry. 

Making Rainbows 

The storm came violently tearing through 

Ripping roots and smashing structures. 

My temple, once safe and trusted,

Failing me and slowly desecrating its disease into my heaven. 

The storm flurried with the beat of my erratic heart. 

Pushing me up and down until I found myself at the edge of a cliff facing what I thought could be the end. 

And at its peak, with majestic trees falling and sacred structures burning to return once again to the soil, 

I realized that I am not afraid and I sat down on that edge,

The storm moved into the eye and it became silent,

At the center of destruction

Everything became clear,

And I was offered peace in the knowledge that I am not afraid to take that leap, although a little sad to leave the temple I love. 

I laid still, eyes wide open, staring into the open sky,

Arms spread wide,

Legs spread wide,

As if making snow angles in soot and ash,

Smiling and lifting my belly to make rainbows,

Right in the center of the storm. 
It passed,

And I did not fall,

But my body, a rainbow, stretched itself across the sky,

Married with the destruction beneath,

Hideously beautiful.