Wonderwall

we will forever begin with three..

Is it possible that the earth could turn blue?

That all the waters, the oceans, the seas, the tears of humanity could cover our land;

that as a human animal we could become drenched in disparity, in loss, in confusion, disbelief and hopelessness.

Is it possible that this paradise of a promise land could sink in a storm of lost dreams and aspirations;

that castles in the air could crumble at the thought of sad story storms?

Is it possible that that thing with feathers that flutters feverously, known as soul, as spirit; could not fly?

Is it possible that that the impossible is possible?

That the earth could be a rainbow of colours?

Bright greens, radiant reds, vibrant violets, bold blues a whirlwind, a storm of incredible lush hues.

That a heart of grace exists in each and every one of us; binding us in union, in life in existence.

That rays of hope shine through free speech, free passion, free will.

That each one of our songs and stories are lined with a silver luminescent spirit that shines bright in a possible nights sky.

Harbor inspiration and ignite with your words.

Anything is possible,

even with the sparsest amount of hope.

A blue earth can become a mosaic of colourful collages.

Tears of despair can turn into treasures of dream.

Restrained thoughts of reason can become fulfilled stories of fantasy.
Never Never Land can exist and
Peter Pan can travel hand in hand with Wendy.

With hope anything is possible.

Journey can find home.

Confusion can become clarity.

Darkness can become light.

The undone can be done,


 &

the lost can be found

Possibility.

: unspecified qualities of a promising nature; potential; hope. [1]

"I do not have any other way of saying it. I think it happens but once and only to the very young when it feels like your skin could ignite at the mere touch of another person. You get to love like that but once." - Pat Conroy

Hope or Esperance is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life.^[1]

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul."


We will carry onto two..

Her spirit unraveled, her soul grew heavy, she became undone. Her wonder became ghosts of reason, where wings of imagination patiently waited for a sign of hope. But how long does one wait? How long does one hope? After countless encounters of disappointment she continued on, days by days, months by months without a spare breath of expectation.

How does one let go? What is to let go?

Although the days became duller, the sun became more shallow, the clouds became gloomier, there was still a faint glint of light that shone through her eyes storing faith, sparkling love and holding onto hope.

Why doesn’t one wish?

Wish wonder, wish for treasure.

With wish comes imagination.

With wish comes a flurry of dreams and a Never Never land where Peter Pan flies high traveling a fantasyland holding hands with Wendy.

Together a perfect destiny seems unfathomable- but is in fact just around the corner.

Silently whisper a wish.

Wish for a fantasy.

Wish for a never never land.

Wish for your peter pan.

Wish for hope.

"No story is a straight line. The geometry of a human life is too imperfect and complex, too distorted by the laughter of time and the bewildering intricacies of fate to admit the straight line into it's system of laws." - Pat Conroy

a story untold

Life is not determined by the number of journeys we take, the steps we make, the treks we conquer. Life is not determined by the number of breaths we take, but the number of moments that take our breath away.

We will start at one.

At age nineteen he moved. His life unfulfilled, his heart yearning more than what this quaint city could offer. Looking for a home he headed out east- far east. His steps burned holes in the earth as he saw fields that grew green in abundance of quest, trees that stood tall foreseeing wonder, mountains that preached dreams, bridges that whispered journeys, towers that bellowed tales, paintings brushed of gold. He met old men weary of hurt, young women blinded by bliss. He met content couples, smiling singles. He met travelers. He would chat in coffee shops, sing in bars, he would meet then leave nothing every permanent. Being so fortunate and grateful to witness all this beauty, all this fame, tradition and wealth yet he still knew there was something missing- something more. Days passed, weeks passed, a year passed and somewhere along the way he got lost in the maze of his mind- and so did she.

They became confused, lost, obsolete.

"A story untold could be the one that kills you." ~Pat Conroy

Kiss the Earth

    Kiss The Earth

   ~

-       Walk and touch peace every moment.
Walk and touch happiness every moment.
Each step brings a fresh breeze.
Each step makes a flower bloom.
Kiss the Earth with your feet.
Bring the Earth your love and happiness.
The Earth will be safe
 when we feel safe in ourselves.  

~Thich Nhat Hanh

The First Day to New York

It is funny being in an airport at 6:49am.  I sit in a teal, well-aged, hard cushioned chair that is by no means comfortable, but “sufficient” waiting to board West Jet 238.  In the back of my mind I know my incredible parents are outside waiting in their car to make sure that my flight takes off.  They hold my dog Eli too tightly giving him kisses and tummy rubs as they hold back their tears- but I push this out of my mind.  I can’t quite handle the fact that I’m leaving my family to move to New York. 

I find the people in the airport are really one of two kinds of people: Couples- perhaps singles- that are in a state of absolute bliss flying with this embellished, romanticized concept of love.  And then there are people who fly in sadness, maybe to family who have just suffered a loss, maybe flying home from disaster or just moving away from home.  But what is even more interesting than these two kinds of people- is that no one really knows who is who. 

Travellers go about their business in airports.  They check in, check their luggage, go through customs, board their plane etc etc.  But when does one ever stop to inquire who is who?  My favorite thing about airports are the stories.  They are kind of like a television show.  You get to be the mastermind and weave unimaginable- or imaginable- stories of whatever you like!  Perhaps a drama for the handsome gentleman in the corner, or a comedy for the family sitting beside him, a love story for the lone girl who stares out the window..

Take for example, right now Im looking at this older couple.  The gentleman is probably in his early seventies.  He is wearing a leather jacket, jeans that are hemmed at the bottom- very crisp, runners with shoelaces tied in a perfect bow.  His navy blue tommy hilfigger polo is the perfect addition to his outfit.  His eyes look gentle, his skin show lines of laughter- of happiness- of family.  His wife looks quite similar.  They seem well suited.  She is dressed very “proper” a lovely lavander top with lace around the neck and dark denim jeans with a matching jacket.  She wears glasses that make her look wise.  Her deminear seems very motherly.  As they eay their Harvey burgers at 8:50am this morning I think they are getting ready for a good day.  They will board the plane and get off in Newark.  Go to their hotel unpack their things, get dressed and continue to dinner then a show on broadway.  They will rave about it to their friends once they arrive back home and tell them all about the food they ate, the wine they had, and the amazing theatre they saw.  Their favorite play will be some ballet- they look like the ballet type.  The favorite food they had will be from some high class diner restaurant in SoHo.  But behind closed doors, they both know that secretly they both loved the little dive they went to every morning for their breakfast that had the best eggs benedict.  And their favorite show was a comedy club that they stumbled upon when Chicago tickets were all sold out. They are the couple that do all the “big” things in life, but secretly love the “little” things in life.

Today I am a traveler.  Iam the girl that sits on the bench with a Starbucks short Pike’s Place coffee typing a fairy tale on her computer.  When people look they notice that she has too many bags, far too many layers of clothing and all clothing that is far too oversized.  Her luggage was overweight because she is too indecisive to make decisions about what to bring and what not to bring.  Her indecisiveness leads to a mind that constantly wheels in circles as to what will I do?  Where will I start?  But she knows not to worry about what she will do or where she will go, because all the “big” things in life start with the “little” things.  

Solstice

Winter Solstice is up and coming everybody!  December 21^st is the date so mark your calander!  If you have no idea what the Solstice is here is a brief synopsis.  The Winter Solstice is known as the first official day of winter where the days get shorter and the nights get longer.  In relevance to our lives and our bodies- this is also when we have the most yin in our body.  Yin is known as the cooler elements of life, more slow paced and restorative.  But because of the busy holiday season we tend to send our bodies out of “wack” by incorporating way too much Yang in our life!  Yang is known as the hotter elements of life, fast paced and energy building.  Im sure you all know what im talking about; holiday shopping, holiday baking, family dinners, work parties- ringing a bell?

"Winter solstice, just three or four days before Christmas, is the darkest, most yin day of the year," says Cohen. "Instead of turning inward, we're celebrating with excess and yang activity. This artificiality creates stress, and many people dread the season as a result."

Lets not dread this awesome holiday this year!  Nourish your body and take extra care!  Try to find a perfect balance between your Yin and your Yang!  So when your out rushing about getting gifts or whatever, toss in a practice or maybe even two!  You deserve it!

Now here is the exciting part!  It seems almost counterintuitive to what Cohen is saying but often to bring in the new season there is a “celebration” or “offering.” You are probably wondering what is this glorious “celebration” slash “offering” is… well drum roll please its 108 sun saluations!  Sun Saluations, or surya namaskar, are known as offerings where we “salute the sun.”  It consists of 12 asanas, postures, that are beautifully weaved together.

Why 108 you may ask now…. Well 108 is actually quite a significant number.  Here are a few reasons why:

• §  108 is the number of Upanishads comprising Indian philosophical texts knows as Vedas
• §  108 is the Chinese number representing man
108 is the number of names for Shiva in Hindu philosophy
108 is the number of beads on a Catholic rosary
• §  108 is the number of beads on a Tibetan "mala", a type of “rosary”
• §  108 is the number of names for Buddha

• §  108 is twice the number "54", which is the number of sounds in Sanskrit

• §  108 is twelve times the number 9, which is the number of vinyasas in a Sun Salutation and eighteen times the number 6, which is the number of days per week that yoga is traditionally practiced


 So join me!  “Celebrate” and “offer” your breath, your grace and your presence in 108 surya namaskar December 21^st 2010!

You

when i grow old

i will find you.

 aged old wood will hold you in that familiar place, where you softly sing our fairy tales that ran their course.

we will laugh loudly, smile brightly and stare deeply exchanging our words, our vows, we were always too scared to speak.

you will find me waiting. patiently. back home.

i will find you 

when i grow old

i see you.

i see you in your glory- its perfection.

the way you dance on this earth, weaving steps into a wonderful rythm that writes paths of poetry.

your words wine a humble wisdom that you are modestly blind to.

you know who you are.  when i grow old.  i see you.

 when i grow old

i will grow old with you.

i will twine our broken palms together, melding forever love.

the cracks and creases will smooth like glass, mirroring a history of drive, will, vigour  and passion.

our steps will christen this world. 

turning rocks into gold, smoke into clouds and dreams into paths.

when you grow old you will be far too handome.  your charm in your form, your words, your dance will shine.  your eyes will smile when you speak, when you walk and when talk.  when you grow old you will be loved.

when i grow old i feel you all around me.  my soul warms, my heart pounds giving me life.  cries constantly remind me of your form, of your words, your dance, your passion and light.  my eyes smile when i think of us.  walking down our never ending path of perfection, seeing shiny, glittering gold, clouds that look like elephants and dreams that continue to grow.  when i am growing old i am loving you.

Today I am growing old.

today i am loving you.

today and everyday I dedicate my dance to you.

until we are together.

hand in hand.  our lives in sync. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAs5y2lvO-Q