Beautiful Days

I've had some really neat opportunities lately to gather with large groups of friends, family, and mostly strangers. These are opportunities that weave in and out of my life frequently, really, but for whatever reason (three kids, large dog, messy house, mounds of laundry...?), I don't always notice the magic contained within them. Thankfully though, I've been paying attention. I'm so excited about these miraculous little moments, that I had to share...

It all started at a U2 concert a few weeks ago. I was with my husband, Dan, and a group of our very dear friends. The concert was held in Spartan Stadium, which is, to be frank, sacred ground. Dan and I met at Michigan State University our sophomore year, so naturally MSU holds a special place in our hearts. It's where we fell in love and decided to take on the world together. Over the recent years we have made many memories tailgating with friends on campus and attending football games. We are MSU fans, yes, but first and foremost we are Spartans (there is a difference). And, we take that very seriously. And, we have lots and lots of fun.

I like U2, but I wasn't a huge U2 fan when we planned to attend the concert. For me, U2 was secondary to a night with great friends in East Lansing. I love music, but I don't usually remember lyrics or bands or any of the important details. I hear a song and I love it or hate it, and then each time I hear it after that, I remember what was happening when I first heard it, or when I heard it again and again, or the way I felt back then. A lot of U2 was played in college and hearing their songs reminds me of that time in my life. It was such a carefree and exciting time. I felt like an adult, but I was really still so sheltered from the rest of the world, from reality, from true responsibility. So anyway, there we were with our MSU friends in Spartan Stadium and life couldn't get much better than that.

I cannot remember which song Bono was singing when I looked around and felt something magical sprout from deep in my soul. I was surrounded by thousands of people and whether or not we were presidents of our local U2 fan clubs, we were all there in Spartan Stadium for the very same reason: to hear U2. We swayed together, we sang together, we came together as one for a few hours on a summer night, and it was beautiful. A Beautiful Day, according to U2.

I tucked that moment in my heart and life went on as usual until last weekend. For the last several years Dan and I have made the trek from wherever we are in Northern Michigan to Glen Arbor for the Independence Day parade. The first year we were in Glen Arbor for our family vacation. We liked it so much, we keep going back! In all fairness, I don't recall meeting a parade I didn't like, but this parade is special to me. I'm sure it has something to do with my kids going crazy about it, plotting their candy grabbing strategies, and talking about all the fun for days afterward. It's also something we've been lucky enough to share with my mom and we're all about making new traditions. There is also a Spartan float (truck) and well, we know how much it means to me to be a Sparty. As we stood there in the sun, my husband, my kids, my mom, and me, with hundreds of other people, watching the parade go by, my soul started to stir once again.

I didn't care much for history when I was younger, and I'm nowhere near a buff now, but somewhere in between lies a place of deep appreciation for the past, gratitude for the present, and trust in the future. I like that place. I love connecting the pieces of the past to the present and thinking about what is to come for me, my family, my community, my state, my country, my world...our world. The stories, people's stories of how they began, and what motivated them, and where they went with it all fascinate me. Standing on M-22 in Glen Arbor, Michigan on July 4, 2011, it felt as if all of it - past, present, and future merged into one single moment. A fantastic moment where all of these virtual strangers came together to celebrate independence. We weren't individuals or even parts of groups with which we typically identify. We were one. The military vehicles carrying Veterans and service men and women and their families, the flags waving in the wind, kids clad in red, white and blue, and my favorite - a young woman, stopping us all in our trackes, as she beautifully belted out the Spangled Banner from the Boon Doggies float, these are reminders of what it takes to gain independence and to keep it - they connect all of us to one another and to our shared history as Americans. Another beautiful day.

The third and final moment in this story occurred last night. This was more of a series of moments though. Dan's cousin, Michael, was set to marry his bride, Jennifer. Dan and I dropped the kids off with one of their beloved grandmas and headed to Saginaw for the ceremony. Already, the feeling of oneness began to set in as we rode and I thought about how wonderful it would be for Mike and Jenn to experience their wedding day surrounded by friends and family, just as Dan and I had almost 14 years ago. I don't know Mike that well and I had never met Jenn, but I was very excited for them. It was neat to think of myself, so many years ago, being welcomed to the Oginsky family with many of the same people around me, and to imagine Jenn having a similar experience.

Once the music started and the moms were escorted down the aisle, I was a little misty-eyed. I know I'm not the only sap who cries at weddings. When Jenn's dad delivered her at the end of the aisle, I saw her say, "I love you Dad." My eyes flooded. For a split second, I thought I was going to lose it and I knew I would probably be one of the few who completely loses it at a wedding, especially someone else's wedding. But then that a bit of warmth spread from deep in my soul and I was overcome with gratitude. I threw up a prayer of thanks, grateful for Jenn and her dad that they had that moment, and grateful that I too had had that moment with my dad, even though her declaration reminded me that the hug and "I love you" I yearn to give my own dad now isn't going to happen.

Jenn was beautiful, Mike looked handsome, and their bridal party, friends, and family sparkled in the radiant glow of the love shared by the bride and groom. It warms my heart thinking about all the different people who traveled to the wedding to share in the love and the beauty of the day. Again, separately, we were family, we were friends, we were the people who worked to make it all happen, but together we were one in Jenn and Mike's love. I am grateful to have been part of it, to have been touched by that love. Another beautiful day.

I trust that these profound moments of connectedness will continue for me, and I hope that I will recognize them. I hope that I will remain open to these moments - to being touched by something. To the little spark in my soul that comes from singing in unison with thousands of people in a place that I love, from standing with my family cheering for the Glen Arbor Kazoo Corps in the Independence Day parade, and from witnessing the marriage vows of two people in love. All in all, it makes for some truly beautiful days.

 Even with bags of candy, I can't convince my kiddos to pose in a picture with me.
They sure are cute though!

 I wasn't kidding - the one and only Glen Arbor Kazoo Corps

The Spartan float - an annual fave. Go GREEN!

Forward Fold

I remember being a little girl and hearing my mom talk about yoga. It seemed like a very mysterious and beautiful exercise. She looked so peaceful when breathing deeply with her eyes closed, sitting cross-legged in the living room. I loved sitting there with her. As a result of these magical moments with my mother, the practice of yoga has always seemed sacred to me. Back in the day, as a recent college graduate living on my own in Alexandria, Virginia, I decided to enroll in a Hatha yoga class through the Community Education program. I loved it and since then I have attended yoga classes off and on and used videos to practice at home. But I didn't move beyond a very surface, acquaintance-like relationship with yoga. We waved hello at each other in passing, but we never became real intimate.

Enter my Mind, Body, Spirit hat trick. Yoga was calling my name. Something told me yoga had the potential to help me on my journey, on my quest for inner peace and balance. I was a little apprehensive to jump right in though. I was definitely someone who tucked my mat into the deepest, darkest corner of the studio, took a deep breath, than wondered for the next 60 minutes, "am I doing this right?" while everyone around me seemed to move with ease and not a care in the world. I asked one of my most favorite yoga instructors, Lee Ann, if she would help me get started on my journey. We met for several weeks and discussed some of the many, many aspects of yoga. Studying yoga is fascinating. I find that yoga is indeed beautiful and sacred, but it is not mysterious as I had once thought. It is a science. I am in love with it now. We are becoming very intimate.

One of the first things I remember Lee Ann sharing with me was the symbolism of the forward fold. It's all about letting go. Letting go has always been a challenge for me. Letting go of the expectations I had for my continued life with my dad by my side, that's a biggie. Of course, that would take some time. But in the immediate future, I was often (okay, almost always) bogged down by obsessive mind-chatter. As I drove around town, I wondered if I had said the right thing to my friend when she asked for advice? I agonized over whether or not I bought the right dish soap. I couldn't remember, did I pack a snack for my child? And if so, was it nutritious? Would he have time to eat it? Would the other kids laugh at it? Then, I would think, oh crap, I should have just cut up an apple. Why wouldn't I just give him fruit for a snack? I knew that he didn't even really care for Teddy Grahams. I would wonder, what kind of mother am I? And finally, I would decide that I probably never should have had children... Good God! I needed help. This pattern of crazy making self-talk and not being able to move past it was not serving me well.

Oddly enough, another not so fond memory from my girlhood was me sitting in gym class. Mrs. Price would yell out, "Pike positionnn!" And everyone around me would sit up nice and tall with their legs straight out in front of them. As we were directed to reach for our toes, and everyone did as they were told, I could barely reach past my knees. I was stuck, I didn't fold forward. I'm not kidding. So the whole resistance to letting go thing, I've been dealing with it for a very long time. And I felt like a fool in gym class.

I told Lee Ann I had never been able to do a forward fold. Now, there is something to be said for bone structure in yoga. We're not all built the same so we don't all move in the same ways, it's that simple. Lee Ann assured me there could be modifications. It's been a few months now and a yoga miracle has taken place. First, I plop my mat anywhere, close my eyes, breathe, and sometimes forget that there are other people in the room with me. I can focus inward (cue angels singing from heaven above)! Second, so I'm not quite a nose-to-the-knee forward folder, but I can sit up straight and I can reach for my toes and sometimes, I actually touch them! And third, I am learning to let go! When the critical crazy lady in my head pipes in with her second-guessing and obsessing, I can now say, "Oh Honey, thanks for stopping by. I'm glad you care, but I'm good on my own now." And she actually leaves. Sometimes she might even add an encouraging word on her way out.

I am amazed by the ways in which the connection between my mind, body, and spirit manifests itself through my yoga practice. I am not exaggerating when I say that with each inch that I move toward my toes (and I have very long legs), I can literally feel myself letting go. It's as if every cell in my body joins a chorus in mind to sing, "I surrender!" It's all very blissful. There is so much more to it too. I feel that I have barely scratched the surface of my yoga practice and that, in and of itself, is invigorating. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do a forward fold.