May Snows Bring ... Who Knows?

My gut feeling was right yesterday. Until today, though, I didn't know what I was right about.... Now as I look out my office window into evening's dusk I see white everywhere. The heavy cloak that draped over the heavens yesterday was not the cloak of rain clouds. No. It was the unimagined promise of snow. Let me spell  it out: S-N-O-W.

The tulips, daffodils, forget-me-nots, and lungwort have lost their brilliant blues, pinks, and yellows to a covering of heavy whiteness. Instead of April showers bringing May flowers we have May snows bringing ... who knows?

The dark earth of the driveway lies uncovered but all else--new leaves, buds, and blossoms--is snowed under. This is a vastly different look from fall when naked trees catch and hold this frozen moisture on their long, lanky branches. No, this is something else entirely ... tender leaves, delicate petals, and fragile blossoms rest beneath an icy coating and it remains to be seen how well these fledgling plants survive.

Frances planted all of the tomatoes she started from seed into the garden yesterday afternoon even though I cautioned her against making such a rash decision. This morning she hurried out to unplant each and every tomato and carry it back into the house.

My t'ai chi chih practice this evening was oh so quiet as if it, too, were weighed down by the shock of new fallen snow. Birds sang through the first half of the form and then all was silent. I watched the snow-covered world before me with eyes filled with winter-weary wonder. And I moved slowly and softly as if I were moving through snow-weighted air. Indeed, I was.

The Tao in My Heart

38 degrees ... thick clouds and a feeling of anticipation in the air. More rain coming? It's hard to say but, for the moment, I feel weighed down as if a heavy cloak were draped over the heavens all the way to the edges of the sky. I've been cold all day ... just can't warm up.

This morning's T'ai Chi Chih class was small ... and powerful. Our quiet practice is a gift we share with ourselves and each other. I'm always in awe of students' willingness to be open and vulnerable as we move through the practice and then discuss the Tao.

Today we read and contemplated Verse 60. Wayne Dyer calls this verse/chapter: "Living with Immunity to Evil" and Ursula LeGuin titles it "Staying Put." Both versions begin similarly (quoting Dyer here):

Governing a large country
is like frying a small fish.
You spoil it with too much poking.

Dyer explains that the Tao isn't about destruction or visiting harm on anyone; rather, it gives sustaining energy to everyone, without exception (p. 287).

My reading of this verse leads me to this: You are immune to negativity by being Tao-centered. You are immune to negativity when you're in your TCC practice because you merge with the Tao. Stay in the midst of your practice in all that you do and say [I admit, easier said than done]. Return to your practice regularly to build/align/connect with the love, compassion, and peace of the Tao.

As Dyer reminds us in the last line of this chapter: Approach the universe with the Tao in your heart rather than reacting defensively [from ego] (p. 289).

Drips and Drops of Peace

It's raining! Glorious rain. The wetness drips down slowly, almost reluctantly. Evening arrived earlier tonight due to a sky full of clouds and air filled with moisture. And the green keeps expanding, growing, and creeping into open spaces and nooks in the sky above and over the forest floor.

When I begin TCC practice inside looking out, I see every shade of green imaginable. Of course, there's lots of new green, a color that pierces the atmosphere with its yellowy-greeny, perky, sprightly energy.

I allow the green to soak into my senses as I move slowly and quietly. No need to hurry. No rush. Just letting myself drip from one movement into the next. It's wonderful to feel myself dropping into the rhythm of the falling rain.

Too quickly TCC practice is over and I'm sitting at the computer lulled into contemplation by the quiet drips and drops that bounce onto the metal roof above me. Ahhh, peace....

Being Present ... in the Present

Our computer is sliding into funkiness so whether we get into our email or onto our preferred sites from one day to the next or, for that matter, from one moment to the next is questionable. It's time to consult a professional. In the meantime, we catch as catch can....

Tonight's TCC class was relaxing despite the fact that I spent the day hopping from one task to the next and driving from destination to destination. Perhaps it was more relaxing than usual because of my busyness prior to class.

I made sure to set up my classroom early enough to allow time for me to settle myself down and begin moving with the Chi prior to students appearing. That focus and centering benefitted me and, I hope, helped to create a warm, welcoming, peaceful atmosphere for my students.

I began session by reading from Sr. Antonia's May 2010 newsletter. Students, I hoped, could be inspired by her words and her encouragement:

Serenity helps us to be at peace in the present moment,
To be right where we are ... and nowhere else,
To not zone out,
To dwell in the present moment,
To be mindful of being present ... in the present....

When I think of Serenity, I also think of caring, loving, and nurturing. These and other qualities begin to deepen and grow within right along with our practice. 'We begin to change' as we care for ourselves, love and nurture ourselves, and be present to self. 'Our world' begins to change as well.

When we keep coming back to t'ai chi chih practice day after day after day, its regular softness and continuity contributes to our lives in a meaningful and significant way. After a rushing around day like today I need to remember to do as Sr. Antonia suggests: Allow yourself to be centered, peaceful, calm, tranquil -- to be serene and enjoy the serenity of the form.

Mood Mender

Brrrr. I practiced TCC outside on the deck this evening while temps hovered around 42 degrees. When I began, I heard an owl hooting deep in the forest and midway through a neighbor's chainsaw and barking dog took over.

Frances placed a beautiful bouquet of multi-petaled daffodils on the deck railing in front of me and, for a time, I let myself sink into the vibrant sunny yellow that vibrated before me. Then I simply focused on moving with softness and continuity.

Frances and I went out picking up trash along the side of the road today. We came back with two full garbage bags in addition to the trash bag I filled over the weekend. Luckily we can recycle most of the stuff we picked up. The most popular item tossed into the ditches? Lite beer cans of any and every variety. It felt good to see the ditches emptied out ... no glints or glares or flapping papers to distract from the natural beauty.

Quote of the day: Once you replace negative thoughts with positive ones, you'll start having positive results. Willie Nelson

T'ai chi chih practice is certainly a simple, wonderful way to flip the switch on negativity. I call it my mood mender. Yup. I feel very, very good right now.

TCC Practice is Not for Ourselves Alone

We varnished our snowshoes today readying them for storage. Hopefully our next snowfall won't occur until late fall or early winter though local residents remind us that our area does occasionally receive snow into May.

Today was sunny and windy, cloudy and windy, windy and windy. Temps climbed to 70, then backed down to 60, but it felt much cooler because of the wind coming off the lake.

I read Sr. Antonia's May 2010 T'ai Chi Chih Newsletter today. As guide for the T'ai Chi Chih community she publishes a monthly message to inspire, challenge, and encourage us in our regular practice of TCC. I particularly related to her message when she mentioned that T'ai Chi Chih practice is not for ourselves alone (per the discussion we've been having in my TCC class that studies the Tao).

Sr. Antonia wrote:

Some years ago I let my practice slack for about two weeks. One day Sr. Dominic, my Regional Minister asked: 'Are you still practicing your T'ai Chi Chih?' I admitted to her that I had slacked off. She quickly said--go back to your practice. I never asked her why she said that...actually I really didn't want to know!

No. T'ai Chi Chih practice is not for ourselves alone -- the Chi moves beyond ourselves and our small circles to permeate the world and universe. Don't forget, the final pose of the practice is called 'The Cosmic Consciousness Pose.' Shifts happen and our world begins to change. We continue to evolve--our practice evolves--our caring, loving, and nurturing also evolve.

What a wonderful encouragement, inspiration, and motivation for keeping up TCC practice!

My practice tonight focused on maintaining the 'musts' of T'ai Chi Chih movements per Justin Stone's instructions in his Photo Text, p. 21: Softness at all times, slow and even movements and no effort. It felt lovely to float through the movements in the presence of the moment.

Neapolitan Delight

I practiced TCC on the deck this evening as the sky over Lake Superior stacked itself into a Neapolitan ice icream sandwich: a thick slice of blueberry on the bottom, a thin layer of strawberry in the middle, and a top layer of pure white vanilla. Silence surrounded me except for the sound of wind whispering through leaves.

What a delicious treat! As the sky melted into a deepening shade of blue my body melted too. I felt so soft, relaxed, and comfortable that I could have been just another one of the leaves that twirled and danced in the breeze except that I could feel my grounding, a taproot that anchored me deeply into the Earth as my upper body rode on the quiet whisk of breeze that swept through the trees.

I feel wonderful now, delighted by the beauty of spring unfolding..... Frances told me that I missed the sound of thunder echoing as I slept deeply last night. The result? Today is greener and more lush than yesterday. Also, I experienced my first bug bite of the year. It's still swollen and itchy and I know there'll be plenty more to come. Sure, ticks have been around since March but the flying, biting insects are just now congregating.

I'm not sure whether the Eastern phoebe nest above the patio door is going to pass the mama test. I opened the door after dark last night to let Chiripa inside and immediately afterward a phoebe flew into and banged repeatedly against the door. She moved to windows on the east side of the house, battering herself against the glass, then returned to the south side.

Frances speculated that perhaps she fell out of the nest when I opened the door for the cat and couldn't find her nest again (it's sturdy and well-designed now). We turned on the light above the door and she disappeared (back into the nest?). Today I saw no phoebes at all. Did they decide to rebuild their nest elsewhere? I can imagine the mama telling her mate: It's downright frustrating to deal with these humans who live in the middle of the woods with their cats. Why can't they use one door and leave us in peace?