Body Talk (Poem)

image from ashtangayogameditation.blogspot.com

Yoga makes a mouth of it to share my truth.

Free as a baby’s imagination

Let its flexing tell my story without ink.

As reaching fingers in a sun salutation grab at air

Forming my intention.

My most back (bending) and forward (folding)

Negativity sweats out of my pores.

In Warrior I my thighs yawn widely the details.

Without practice, my tongue is still as a lost child in a great cave.

What really comes of a mouth that hangs open and shut

As a broken door on well-oiled hinges?

Ah, how the heart unfurls like secret flowers.

What passion it expels

As the body begins to feel wispy in a vinyasa ballet.

By savasana, there’s no need for verbal words.

The body has said it all. 

Weekly Updates (September 23)

In case you missed it. Here are my links from my blog and my other writing homes. 
As always, thanks for reading! 

Lessons from Labyrinth (9/17):  Just because you have to take a major part of it alone, doesn't mean you can't come back with the other's when it's over.

To Grandfather, From The Baby (9/19): I can hear you wondering aloud about our clothes and the small bright things that make noise and everyone is touching all day. The great grandbaby's are playing and shouting and Grandmother uses a cane now. The house is almost a new thing but much is still the same. You built it with your own hands and of course your family still lives where they belong right? Your work is solid. You always knew it. 

"Practice and All Is Coming" via Rebelle Society (9/20): The life you were meant to live. The life that lives up and over your fullest potential if you work at it. The life you feel warming your solar plexus like butterfly hums. A tingling during brief moments of paused thought and all of a sudden you know you’re on the right track.

Since I was gone all weekend for a wedding, I thought a fun yoga wedding picture was appropriate! Even though they weren't yogis. haha. :)  

Namaste My Friends, 

Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

My Writing Arm: Poem of a proposed future

This morning before I got out of bed,I got an urge to do something I don't believe I've ever wanted to do on my own. I wanted to visit a grave. Your grave. I've never wanted to visit any cemetery really because the dead rest there. Today was different. 

I wanted to go to your grave. Brush the dirt and grass from your name and read it. Feeling the cool sensation of your earthly title and years. I wanted to sit on the grass where you are and cry because you are so close and yet so far. How far I have no idea and that hurts a little more. 

As I laid in bed weeping, I wondered how it could still hurt after almost 20 years. How I can still miss you with the few precious memories I've got. The thought crossed my mind if I could give my writing arm, not just my hand, my arm, it would probably be worth a prosthetic and learning lefty for a while to see you. 


To have you show up at the door of my grandmother's house. Thanksgiving when all of us usually are there. You'd recognize me I think because my hair is the same as when you first saw me. An afro. Only I'm not so small and chubby with a green felt dress and shiny black baby shoes. And those socks with the lace. I'm big now. 

What did you call me? What would you call me? Rachelle or The Baby? Either one would do. You'd be speaking and I'd hear the sound of a voice forgotten. It would sound strange and I'd immediately find all to love in it. 

I'd even sit on your lap like when I was small. Yeah, you'd bring your chair. And when you pulled the level I'd still laugh. Perhaps harder now. 

You'd see a medium small dog run up to you enthusiastically and probably ask why it isn't outside. And what's wrong with him when you put the dog out. He's too old not to know how to lift his leg when he pee's. Sandy,your older granddaughter, my cousin, would probably be the one to say, "Grandfather. That's Gigi. She's a girl and is more of a house dog." Then you would do what I know you did and don't really remember and call my grandmother."BIIIIILL!!" And we'd all laugh as you fussed about this girl dog and it not being outside where it belonged and what is a Gigi?  

There would be children running around. More than you remember 20 years ago. And one of them isn't me. Two boys from Sandy and a girl and another girl on the way from Ramsey. Poor Dear Grandfather. You're probably wondering how they got it all wrong. Two girls can't carry on the Smith name. Then you'd love them anyway wouldn't you? Like you loved me. 

Perhaps wondering who the white kids really were. Yes, those are Sandy's. She's just always been light like this side of the family and the white man cooking delicious healthy food is her husband and we love them all. You may not understand it all. You'd love them anyway. 

Then I'd tell you everything whether you understood it or not.
My blog. A what? Oh you're a writer huh?
I'm married. You'd wonder where your shot gun was. Got rid of it? The b-b gun too? Damnit Bill. Not even a male dog that can lift it's leg. 
He's a vegetarian and I've thought about it too. A what? No meat? This 2012 stuff is pretty liberal.
And I'd even tell you about yoga and how it's changed my life. No I'm not a hippy. Yoga? So you work out? You look good. 

I can hear you wondering aloud about our clothes and the small bright things that make noise and everyone is touching all day. The great grandbaby's are playing and shouting and Grandmother uses a cane now. The house is almost a new thing but much is still the same. You built it with your own hands and of course your family still lives where they belong right? Your work is solid. You always knew it. 

The head of the table would be yours and Ramsey on the other. Grandmother and Mom to your flanks and me by mom. And I'd stare at you. What we expected, you wonder about this health food and why Sandy's husband, a man, did 99% of the cooking. You'd eat and maybe like it or not and you'd complain and fuss at my grandmother "Bill" and we'd laugh to crying and back again.

Later after dinner while there are naps, walks, work and play, I'd touch your face. See how much I'd remember or forgotten and if the photos captured you right. I'd touch your salt and pepper hair because I'm curious about the texture. What did your eyes see in me then and what do they see now? Yes,the little girl is in there,but she's big now. 

Isn't she? Or am I always the baby? I don't care either way. Your flannel shirt is familiar. Your chair feels familiar and your arms have grown bigger and my hands much smaller. I'm resting in your lap in a felt dress with lace socks and shiny black shoes while we both breathe in the memory of then and now. Have they become the same? Are you proud? Do you love me Grandfather? Eyes open again and we smile. 

Now you have to go. Everyone hugs you. There's no time limit. I would go last, since I'm losing an arm but I can't deny the best for my Grandmother. I hug you softly. With strength. Shake with tears falling from confusion, sorrow and happiness. And I stare at your face. Etching you into my memory like the name and years on your grave. I'll remember the flannel. Your face, hair, eyes. Your smell. When you say you love me, The Baby, I'll rewind and replay however you say it until it's a part of my brain chemistry. 

You would hug your wife. Tell her she's doing pretty good, you guess, considering your not there. Do something about that dog or get another one too. You used to have a couple dogs at a time. You'd probably wonder how she's gotten on without a man. Mom too. Must be that 2012 thing. Not even a shot gun. 

Then we'd see your last facial expressions of confusion of what you'd come back to.

Internet, cell phone, Vegetarian, Blog, girl dog, Yoga, mixed kids, no Smith boys. No shot gun. Mom's not married. The baby's not small, Bill lives half alone. 

Then you'd smile, not minding what you didn't understand (as much) and be glad. 

Ramsey has a wife and two great grandbaby girls, Sandy has a husband and two great grandbaby boys. Mom is doing well and your only living child, you'll see your son Jim when you got back. The girl dog's got a good bark. You'll give her that. Bill's always your Bill. She looks good in her old age. Got all her mind which you may not remember losing. You've got a solid wife. And my husband. A real and dedicated man. And me. The Baby. The writer and does/is a Yoga? She's a healthy and smart baby. With all that hair and the big smile. 

You'd leave happy and with your last demands as the man in charge. We'd all laugh and nod and love you more than we can physically express. The same will go for you and the tears we show on the outside will fill up your inside, with your own, even though you don't say. We know. I know. You love us so much more. 

Then I'd say good-bye to my arm. My writing hand. I'd be sad and take it to memory as the one I've gotten in trade for it. I got a great bargain I'd say. And I'd come to your grave again. And lay on the grass. You're so close and so far. I know how far you are away now. Never too far. 

You can hear me can't you? My tears are filling you up so you'll never dry out. Our tears are our thoughts and love to you. You'll never dry out. 

I'll write you again with my left hand or  my new one. And you'll love it. Like you love me right? 

The Baby with the afro, green dress with lace socks and shiny shoes. 

I Love You. And you can hear me. I just don't know which wind or frequency to listen back for you on. I'll keep writing and trying to hear. 

You love me too Grandfather don't you? 

My memories, imagined into reality and lived into imagination say yes. 

Love,

The Baby



~WY

Lesson From "Labyrinth"

Following your heart is not something you always recognize right away. Sometimes you have to be in the middle of it to understand that's what you're doing. You may have to be in the middle of whatever you are going through to realize, "There is a lesson here I'm supposed to learn."

Lately my heart's been sending me a message through a simple repetitive thought. Not much detail to it like in Labyrinth with David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly. Sara, the heroine, was a young woman on a simple mission "I have to save my baby brother." That's the only thing she thought her journey was about and it ended up being so much more.

There's not always need for the message to be in depth. The details will arise  upon the onset of the adventure. You just have to know there's a trip that needs taking and get ready to go! I began  to understand the repetitive thought was keeping time with my heartbeat. That's when I realized this was something I HAD to do. It was a journey I needed to take and I was afraid.

This fear did not come from the adventure itself. I was afraid of where it would take me. More specifically, who it might take me away from. Not wanting to leave someone behind or have them feel left out or abandoned is hard to deal with. There is a line where Sara tells her new friends before the final face off, "I have to do this alone." When her friends ask why, she simply said, "Because that is how it's done." 

Sometimes we need to do things alone. There is a adventure, fight, talk or whatever that needs to be done by ourselves. As much as we want to bring out loved ones, we can't because that's how it's done. If it's a journey specifically for you, just because you have to take a major part of it alone, doesn't mean you can't come back with the other's when it's over. That's when I started to feel a little better.

At the end of the movie, Sara's new friends tell her "Should you need us..." they will always be there. Her reply was "I need you. All of you". And there they were! Though she began her trek alone, met friends along the way, and had to finish the last stretch by herself again, that didn't mean she was forever severed from her new acquaintances. She began her journey for her baby brother, and ended up learning how to grow up.

I'm learning that certain personal growth and change takes your own doing. You can't always bring everyone you want to come along. It may not be the trip they need to take (whether they want to come or not) and that's okay. I have a personal path that my heart has been beating for. I've finally listened to the rhythm and now I am preparing to go. It turns out, those I am leaving behind, for a brief while, are supportive and want me to experience what means so much to me. 

Listen to your hearts repetitive rhythmic words. Don't be afraid of what it's beating even if you have to leave for awhile. You can always come back to the ones you love. There's no need to stay away. Tell them where you are going, make your journey,and come back wiser and stronger than before. 

Namaste my friends,

~Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

Weekly Updates (September 16)

In case you missed it! Here are links to my posts for my weekly updates.

Meatless Monday: Fajitas ( 9/10): Fajita's enough said! 

What's In A Name? (913): My letter to Jennifer Pastiloff and why you should connect with her! 

The Body Hug (9/13): A poem on Rebellesociety.com about the closeness a certain forward fold brings. What pose speaks to you? 

Oh, my friend,

all that you see of me

is just a shell,

and the rest belongs to love.

Rumi

Namaste My Friends, 

~WY

What's In A Name?

Dear Jen,

I noticed something about your last name. I feel it represents a lot about you. Read it slowly.

Pastiloff. 

Did you get it? Here, I'll break it up Past-Il-Off.

The message I get is: Passed Ill Off. 

That's one of the main things you talk about. About shaking off the past negativity. The "shoulda, coulda, woulda" as you say.  Learning from it and being fine it happened because you are no longer there. 

Everyone has flashbacks. Everyone looks back to where they were and spends some time looking around. The point is to not do it too often and to not stay there. Don't live where you don't belong.

You practice living in the moment. Moving forward. And only seem to go to the  past to help others, and yourself if needed, with obtaining the greatest present and future! How brave is that? I can't even look at my journal from the past year, heck the past month! Even if it's all good news. You go back Years! You go into the jungle of past unpleasant experiences and cut the negativity of tangled vines with a machete. 

Everyone has things in the past that they don't like to remember. We don't like that we wasted time with this, or didn't do that. You on the other hand, and I'm not sure many can, take the past, put in a jar, study it, and then present it in the world as something worth seeing. 

You stand as the Ringmaster on stage before the Circus. The Passed Ill Off Circus! We think it's going to be a show of other wonders, (but it's a reflection of the own show we need to put on for ourselves). 

Your past is on display. We arrive unaware on how this will effect us and are amazed with glitter a unicorn and twinkling lights. We think it's going to be something we haven't seen before. A new wonder to take us away from where we have been. To stop thinking about it.  Instead, your show of the history you lived somehow bleeds into our own. 

We weren't expecting this. The crowd is wide eyed and perhaps slack jawed. It's a better surprise and wonder than we ever could have imagined! We didn't realize how much we needed a ticket to this show. 

For those surprised and perhaps fearful, and those of us touched and heart swollen, we can hear you calling from the spotlight during a brief intermission. 

"Look at this hurt, this experience! Look at his hate and this love! This past me and perhaps a past you as well. Look at what you are manifesting now. This isn't just for me, it's for you too. Don't shy away. Be touched, dazzled, brought to tears or silence. Here is my past. You've got one too!"

The show begins again. The audience sits still as you show us where you have been and where you're going. We are allowed to come along. It's interactive! No expectations, no certain ways things are supposed to be done. Only connection on the highest level and producing the most wonderful-filling manifestations.  

Who knew there could be so much good in where we've been? Even the parts that leave a sour taste on the tip of our tongue. 

At the end of the show, there's and invitation to come again.

"There it is. It's all there. Nothing to hide and everything to see. Heartbreaks and headaches. Loved ones and sticking to your guns. Holding yourself back and losing your track.  New life creating and karaoke yoga gyrating. We are the combination of our past but we don't have to stay there. Passed Ill Off Circus! Whose ready to join me?!"

All I know is, I'll forget about my ticket. I'm running away to join the circus! 


xoxo

~ Chelle aka Writer Yogi   

Meatless Monday: Fajitas

Welcome to another Meatless Monday Recipe!

My husband and I decided Fajita's were what was going down! I do enjoy eating "south of the border". With the lovely cutting of yours truly and the seasoning and cooking of the Hubster, we got a yummy and pretty healthy I would say dinner! 

It was very simple really.
1. Cut up your veggies. We used, 1 green pepper. 4 mini sweet peppers, 1 onion

2. Stir fry your veggies with vegetarian chicken strips. Add taco seasoning and spices to your liking.

 3. Cut up one Avocado. You can mash it into a paste if you wish, or just scoop out and spread it onto a flour tortilla. Use as much avocado as you may wish. My husband doesn't like beans so I figured avocado would be a decent substitute. 

4. Finish with a few "veggie toppers". Spinach, lettuce if you wish, and tomatoes. (Not all the garnishing is on this one. But you can imagine how yummy it is! 

5. If not, here it is! Yummy! Enjoy! 

Namaste all,
~Wy 

Weekly Updates: (September 9)

Incase you missed it, here are the my weekly updates! 
Links Below

Life Lessons from Don Quixote 9/3 The story of a Mad Man. Or is he? (My second MindBodyGreen article!) 

Meatless Monday: Broccoli Stuffed Tomatoes 9/3 A Yummy Recipe! 


What Tears Are These?: True Story 9/4 I respect my body and my journey. What tears are these? It is because this has turned into a prayer? 


In All Earnestness 9/5 Be fine with the fact you know good and well you can't keep up and Modify the Heck out of it! 

Dear Father's Of Mine Who Have Passed 9/8 An unexpected letter and lesson in love. 

Now here's a video to boost the spirits! I know it does mine! I hope everyone had a great week. Cheers to the new one! The Future is Ours! 

Namaste My Friends,
 ~Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

Dear Father's of Mine Who Have Passed

I wrote this as a response to Jennifer Pastiloff's post asking for letters to someone alive or passed. It was part of one of her posts to encourage connection between everyone and have us share our stories. I put it in my blog as a draft, and I kept it for some time and I'm not sure why. 

Perhaps because when I wrote it, I wasn't expecting what came out. Or I didn't realize that I was loved by three father figures in my life growing up in a single parent mother home and being around my friend's mothers. The dad's didn't influence us at all.

After high school, I found out that without even knowing it, my definition of a dad was "That guy married to your friend's mom who doesn't really talk to us (or when he does it's just annoying) and that your mom doesn't really like". Something to that extent. Which when you look at it is pretty bad. 

I am sad about the short time I got to have with my fathers. I do wish I could have spent some of that time better. I can say that I am very fortunate to have had them at all. Three of them. I guess, in a way, her post made me realize, instead of having no father's in my life at all, throughout this first quarter of my life, I have had three. This lifts and saddens my heart at the same time. Regardless, I believe the joy will eventually outweight the sorrow if I look at it the right way. 

I had three Father's in my life who loved me very much. Still something surprising and crazy to wrap my head around. I suppose though, when it comes to love, that's all that really matters. Here's my letter...

Dear Father's of Mine Who Have Passed,

Grandfather, thank you for playing games with me in your big old leather chair. I remember the cool feel of the brown and the smooth cracks with fluff I'd stick my fingers in. I will never forget you reaching over to the side pulling a lever, saying I broke the chair as we reclined and me laughing wildly as I shout "I saw you!"

Step Father Larry, thank you for loving my mother and letting her love you. You were the first man in my adult life to like me as a daughter. Growing up around mothers (and fathers that did nothing) I didn't understand it. I do still love you and I'm happy you loved me and my sister too.

Dad, I know we didn't know what do to with each other the first and only time we met. We didn't understand how one so old and one so young could meet on common ground. Thank you for telling my oldest brother, who you were very close to, how much you loved me. It means a lot.

Namaste my Friends,

~WY

In All Earnestness

During a wonderful practice with Amy Fecher, one of the great teachers at Practice Yoga, I get three things I love. Yoga, Sweat and Spirituality.

Great asana that crumples you up, or twists you around and bends you so at the end, you are open. In reality, you don't feel mashed at all. At the end of class, I feel all ironed out. I'm smooth. I am oh so happy. 

The sweat means I'm warm. I'm working. My Ujjayi is rolling in and out. All the toxins and bad vibes are seeping through my skin and on the surface. Taking a towel I can wipe them away. There are points when I don't even have to. It can't hold on for it's life and drips to puddles on my mat. 

When my mind wandered in savasana, as it often does, I won't even deny it (and neither should you) I noticed what it was actually wandering too. Oooh, I should make a smoothie with that frozen fruit I have, I'm glad I have been practicing daily lately, My body feels so good it's like it's not even there. I think I may be my soul right now, a bit outside of my limbs. 

Amy always says, "You are already there." I Love That! Every time. I am already there. When she says it, my mind immediately perks up with excitement and victory. Yeah I am! I'm good. I am who I am supposed to be. There is no battle, I already won. Everything I think is not going to be okay, already is okay. 

Another thing I notice is, I go to her class knowing full well I can't keep up with everything but I Don't Mind. I go to her class and am willing to modify the heck out of whatever I need to or just child pose for a moment. Like all beginners, and some not, I don't always feel completely at ease when everyone else is still flowing. That's normal. The point is, for the most part I am fine. The moment of not appreciating where I am at passes rather quickly. Realizing this today opened my mind up to my own home practice and Mysore style. 

The reason I don't feel the same for my home practices is for the fact I don't come to it with the same attitude. I skip a pose because I know I'm not there yet, even though I probably could at least try. I leave out a few vinyasa's to save energy to finish the practice  later. That is Not giving my all to myself! I understand, you are not supposed to wear yourself out. I am not saying that. You Do however have the obligation to put whatever you have into it. Be fine with the fact you know good and well you can't keep up and Modify the heck out of it! 

After class my mind went to the Yoga Sutra's I am making my way through. The Sutra that hit home the most so far is "Practice becomes firmly grounded when well attended to for a long time, without break and in all earnestness" (I.14). Did you catch it? "With All Earnestness"! I go into Amy's lovely class completely comfortable with my skill level and give it all I have. That is how my practice will grow if I can do it For Myself and On My Own! No matter what practice, whose practice or where, in order to reach my fullest physical, mental and spiritual potential I must approach it with all earnestness or I will forever stay stagnant. 

Thanks Amy for the wonderful class again! I really learned a lot today!

Namaste my Friends,

~Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

What Tears Are These?: True Story

I respect my body and my journey.

When I thought that up for my mantra, I don't even think I completely knew what it meant. I knew, but the depth wasn't there. I knew I wanted to focus on my goal for better health and patience on my journey through yoga and properly following my calling in life. Okay, I'll go with it.

I was holding my mala. Rubbing each uncultured pearl in my right pointer finger and thumb. Then my left. Switching between the two. At first just going through the motions. 

One, two, three.....
Sixteen, seventeen....
Thirty Seven, Thrity Eight, Thrity Nine....

I respect my body and my journey. I respect my body and my journey. Have I reached the middle of the strand? I don't want to miss one pearl. 

Uneven and smooth in my fingers.I respect my body and my journey. Again and again and again until I made the choice to use the mala for what it was for. 

I'm going to put this mantra into my mala. I will put my energy into every pearl so it can't forget. It will forever hold this energy and mantra as the foundation of its power. I respect my body and my journey.

Fifty One,
Fifty Two... Fifty Two,
Fifty Three,
Fifty Two,
Fifty Three,
Fifty Four... Fifty Four... Fifty Four....

I wasn't counting anymore. I was trying to feel the pearls at the end and repeated some. There wasn't enough to move on and I didn't want to go back to where I was. So I grabbed the whole mala in my hands. Clutching them like a baby blanket from years passed. 

I respect my body and my journey. Why am I crying? What tears are these? Is it because this has turned into a prayer? 

Just below room temperature and the size of  dew drops. I can't bend my mala to fit completely in my hands like warm stones from beach sand. So I clutch and rotate. 

I respect my body and my journey. I respect my body and my journey. I won't stop until this trinket has all the energy I have to give it. I will build a foundation of good energy. This will be the beginning of all that is good for me. I will leave my prayer here and I can always come back for it later. Then add more.I respect my body and my journey. Tears to chin. I respect my body and my journey. Tears to t-shirt. I respect my body and my journey. I respect my body and my journey. 

I finish with a Namaste to the yogis before me for passing on the practice, Namaste to the universe, Namaste to myself for being brave enough to practice and meditate. Who knew it would turn into a prayer? 

~WY

Meatless Monday: Broccoli Stuffed Tomatoes

Time for another yummy recipe for Meatless Monday! 

I actually made this some time last week. It's a recipe I got from an old book for Broccoli Stuffed Tomatoes. For those who don't like tomatoes, this recipe can be substituted with a potato I'm sure, or something else of the sort! Now I do hope you pardon the picture quailty. I will give you the recipe in a nutshell then give you the step by step photo instructions from my tiny hallway I call a kitchen! haha.

 Hollow out four tomatoes and boil a 10oz package of frozen chopped broccoli 

A better view of the tomatoes. I honestly used a plastic ice cream scoop to accomplish this. It was really easy!

Here is where I got creative. Drain the broccoli. I honestly have no idea what a garlic roll is so I used Mozzarella cheese, and a dash of garlic and herb spice and my liking of garlic salt. (Can you tell I tend to cook as I feel at times?) Heat it so the cheese gets melty.

Lasty, stuff the tomatoes with your cheese and broccoli mixture and place in an oven preheated at 375 degrees for 10 mins and you have a lovely meal!

Buon Appetito! Happy Meatless Monday my friends,

Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

Life Lessons From Don Quixote

My life changed when I saw the 1972 movie Man of La Mancha with Peter O'Toole and Sophia Loren. Don Quixote was the smartest man ever! Yes, the man who called a windmill a giant and a tavern prostitute a chase maiden and meant it. How could this man who appeared to get it all wrong, actually get it all right? 

Find out in my second article to go live on MindBodyGreen: Life Lessons From Don Quixote.

I am so honored and proud! Thank you for reading!

Namaste my Friends 

Weekly Updates (September 2)

Alright all my friends, in case you missed it, it's time for my weekly updates! 

Links Below

Meatless Monday 8/27: My first Meatless Monday and why I've decided to join in! Will you? 

Take A Step Outside 8/28: Sometimes five minutes is all you need to catch something great! 

3 Reasons To Live An Ujjayi Life 8/29: And introduction to my blog and Victorious Living! 

September is National Yoga Month!! 

A month created by the Yoga Hearth Foundation dedicated to teaching those unfamiliar with yoga about the practice and also to encourage current practitioners to continue theirs or get back into it if it's been lacking. One of my end of the year goals is to practice at least 4 times a week. What a perfect opportunity to get that started! Oh universe, how on time you are. So in the spirit of the month here are some words from the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali.

"Practice becomes firmly grounded when well attended to for a long time, without break and in all earnestness." 

Namaste and Much Love to My Friends and Readers

~Chelle aka Writer Yogi