fall yoga classes in the wind of time

fall wind
pods of summer crowd around the door;
i take them in the autumn of my hands.

last night i heard the first cold wind outside;
the wind blew soft, and yet i shiver twice:

once for the thin walls, once for the sound of time.
                        ~ william stafford

ah! the zepher..
whistling the vayu breath practiced faithfully
dispersing the clouds of conceptual thought
a sea change .. at my back..
transporting me beyond all knowing ~
trusting the challenge..
following the wind..
to the next great adventure of mystery & grace..

septembre 11th i wrote this letter..
by the 15th, i had my answers..
& pulled the rug out from under myself
and the precious practitioners of room 34..
here is the letter..

dearest yoginis  ~ kit, jeri & susan..
   it is said in the buddhist tradition that the highest and best form of generosity is the gift of dharma..i sing your praises & i thank you, sincerely, as each of you bring forward the teachings of patanjali & others from the wisdom traditions - through the practice of yogadharma..
on  & off the mat.. on & off the cushion..
   i would like to think.. if i may.... in the most humble way.. i might have had a wee hand in offering each of you a gift of dharma that inspired you to become active guides & teachers on the path..
   my karma has ripened in the most breath-taking ways as i come to face a back that is mostly broken & degenerating.. a hip that will need replacing most likely..  & much refined renewing of cells and ligaments.. nerve regeneration & rejuvenation..
   it may well come to pass that my teaching days are numbered until all these distractions are tended to.. i wonder if you might consider & be willing to  accept the practitioners who have a series with me by redeeming their classes within your classes should they choose to clear the books.. as a kindness to your olde and crumbling teacher..
   it would bring much relief - financially & otherwise - knowing that i (we) have maintained the integrity of the dharma by the giving and receiving of goods.. what could be more good that the practice of breath, stretch, stillness and wisdom ?
   another perfect gift of generosity is the gift of fearlessness..
during this time i am traveling to and fro along that fearful highway ~
doing my best to bring the practice to every aspect of accepting & letting go..polishing my detachment of the kosha of form, un-winding my dismay at the plate set before me, freeing the dread that rises up to meet me daily..
   if you choose to accept this opportunity, it would bring me closer to that fearlessness i am doing my best to befriend..
   i admire each of you, bowing to your love of the practice & your presence in my life & the lives of all on the planet & beyond!
palms folded to my heart -
dunja
septembre 11 - 2017

each of these exceptional teachers has generously accepted
this request, welcoming any and all practitioners
to their classes as a gift, a kindness, an offering
in the tradition of bowing to a teacher..
a spiritual friend on the path..
honoring noble friendship..

if you have a series you would like to finish up
with one of these lovelies ~ do let me know
which teacher/class you will be attending
& all will be settled in the blink of a breath..

PLEASE NOTE:
CLASSES CONTINUE THROUGH THE END OF SEPTEMBRE
FRIDAY, THE 29TH IS THE LAST ..
PLEASE COME..
SUNDAY, THE 24TH @ 10 AM
MONDAY, THE 25, @ 5:30 PM
THURSDAY, THE 28TH @ 8:30 AM
FRIDAY, THE 29TH @ 9:30 AM

jeri lancaster teaches 7 PM wednesday evenings 
at the happiness center..the ballroom..anacortes..
360 299 2519
jerilancaster108@gmail.com

kit muehlman teaches 8 AM tuesday mornings
( this class has a 30 minute meditation tacked on
for $1 if you choose to stay )
at maple hall in laconner
360 630 4152
kit.travis@gmail.com

susan schanen teaches 9:30 AM wednesday mornings
( this class has a 30 minute sitting meditation tacked on
@ 11:15 no charge..should you be so inclined!)
at crescent moon yoga in laconner
360 941 1975
susanschanen@me.com


if i ever die, i'd like it to be
in the evening.  that way, i'll have
all the dark to go with me, and no one
will see how i begin to hobble along.
                 ~ stafford...again

if you wonder..
how this could happen to me..
please scroll down to the september 19 post
what would i give back?

together for peace

international day of peace
 together for peace..

respect, safety & dignity for all ~

to bring peace, be peace..

each of us can transform another
by our own respect for life
by our own sincere wish to bring happiness
        (be happiness)
to those around us..

there is a saying in india..
be happy for someone else's sake
( if you cannot be happy for your own!)

be peace..for someone else's sake..

it is healthy, you know...
for children and other (all) living things ~

shanti, shanti, shanti ~

what would i give back?

is there something i might regret..?

my spine is the scripture of all my actions ~

a brushstroke missing the paper..
a train off its track..
the ill fitting shoe..
a bad hair day all the way
to the middle of next lifetime..
a bald tyre
the soldier missing in action
a rice sack ransacked

the very long stroll to california
slipstreaming the crash to the boulders below
thunderstorms striking the lost chord
tap dancing the waltz on cement
much whiskey dank days the burren
bushels of burdensome guilt
sitting stitching for hours
quilting with salliema
dogs running, chasing, biting

lifting, shifting everything up to the sun..
moving the bed from the garage
to the garage and back to the garage
again, and again, and again..

changing flat tires, changing the oil..
driving the coast up and back by the trillions
slipping on ice thrice..
flipping my tricycle and bicycle
dumping the kawasaki on my bones more than once
losing a friend in a maze of malignancy
climbing the holy mountain to hang prayer flags
flagging down trucks to take me to persia
making love in those most bizarre places
running halfway in the marathon twice
caught in the shower by interpole lopers

stepping off the 7th rung of that ladder to concrete
landing belly up on a fire hydrant - a flip that flopped
spilling over the bannister to the deep cement stairwell
falling out of how many trees i've attempted to climb?
hitch-hiking across india, pakistan, afghanistan..
iran, turkey, syria with a backpack twice as big as myself..
(those were the days, my friend)

runway modeling striking outlandish poses
gymnastic training for the iron cross
lifetimes of backbends
falling out of handless headstands
forwards bends with friends pounced atop
twisting the topsy-turvy inversions..
sitting sitting endless days in the monastery

hugging the wind that took me to sea
losing my way on the road to shambhala
where will this list end..?

as a bodhisattva in training..
one trusts without doubt..
trusting this life, this bonebag, this rachis demise..
with look no hands to ride the cycle..
may i bow the deep bow ~
may i chant the deep prayer..

all that i am afraid to lose
i offer up without any
sense of loss..

je ne regrette rien

shots ring out!

the valley ricochets the gun shots..
banged and popped by the hunters of ducks..geese..

it is not an easy sound..
not like the mooing of the nearby cows
nor the wide awake howls of coyote moon bashes
nor the magic dialect of the raven's flight path
or the whiz & click & bizbuzz of the hummers at the feeders ~
it shocks one into an o my goodness !
where is the goodness in this crashbangboom?
it eludes me..

i thought i heard a wounded cry of a winged one..
twanged and tinged with a bullet
that did not bring it down to earth..
a ragged song that had lost the full vitality of voice..
over and over and over and out..

i had written a post
LAMENT some years back..
(on all soul's day)
here it is again..
the sentiment the same..

my mate..
my mate for life has gone..
gone the way of the deceiver's call
in the early soggy wet of duck morning..
though he has offered his shimmer feathers
his meat
his wing
for the nourishment of another -
        & i praise him for that..i do..
my mate for life
is gone


( what the hen must feel
when her drake does not return..?
we humanoids say that animals /birds/ insects
are not the feeling type..
how is it we know this?

i look at the yes of a bird,
the eyes
and i am seeing back to myself.. )

yes..we are feeling..
our small hearts skip a beat..
the weighty life of loss
makes our wings burdensome ~
flight is not a soaring
with our true companion gone..

i know this ..
i know this from my own wing ~
my own lonely wing..


exaltation for all souls all saints
all ducks & all hunters of ducks

red moon - red sun

after all, anybody is as their land and air is.
anybody is as the sky is low or high, 
the air heavy or clear 
and anybody is as there is wind 
     or no wind there.
it is that which makes them
and the arts they make 
and the work they do
and the way they eat 
and the way they drink
and the way they learn
and everything.
                ~ gertrude stein

we are being watched/witnessed by the red planets ..
the red moon gazing down upon us as we slip into slumber..
the red sun rising to shine on us with the hue of fire and flames..

we are embossed in vermilion..
we are at the end of the colour spectrum
we are on red alert
we are one of 3 colours of quark
we are in the cold war of wildland fire
we are wine made of the darkest grapes