Unconditional Effort
Isn’t it funny (and sad) how certain rituals that once shaped who we were and how we saw the world can completely disappear from our lives? I used to paint. I worked mainly with oil, but I also loved watercolor, charcoal and pastels. I didn’t make a lot of original art; painting was really a form of meditation and relaxation for me more so than an outlet for self-expression. I liked to copy photographs (which I guess, through my eyes, was original art) or the works of other artists. Even if I was just doodling on a scrap piece of paper, art consumed my soul. My creativity has expanded in different ways over the years—cooking, arranging flowers, and creating my home have taken the place of my paintbrush, but I have to admit, I miss making art.
Devote Yourself
Rodney Yee defines discipline as being a disciple of something. His teacher, Ramanand Patel, says that the traditional idea of discipline is an imposition on the mind, arguing that it’s impossible to force the mind to do anything. “If you want proof, close your eyes and don’t think of a black cat!” Ramanand suggests that rather than trying to be disciplined, we should devote ourselves to something meaningful.
New Year. Real You.
At the beginning of every year there’s usually a lot of hype around trying to be the “new” you. While I totally understand the motivating power of New Year’s and support any path towards positive change, I have to be honest and admit that any attempt to chase after the “new” me has always left me feeling a little worse. It was around this time of year—deep in the trenches of February—when I would surrender to that invisible force working against me, pulling me under as I tried to swim in earnest towards the surface. Change, however clear or necessary, seemed impossible and I could never for the life of me understand why it was so difficult to manifest the results I so desperately craved. Everything—my happiness, my wholeness, my sense of self—was riding on my success, and so I would put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself to deliver results. But after years of “New Year. New You!” disappointment, I arrived at a place where I could no longer endure the overwhelming feelings of shame that washed over me as I proved to myself (yet again) that I, Chrissy Carter, was a huge failure.
Morning Ritual
Billy and I drink tea and coffee in bed every morning. We started this ritual back in January when I was teaching the 200hr teacher training intensive and didn’t have a lot of time (or energy) to talk. After a long day of holding space for others, all I wanted to do when I got home was retreat inward and be quiet. Since the training had rearranged our daily routine, we decided to make time in the morning to be together.
Marigolds and Memory
I went to the flower district after class today and bought a huge bunch of marigolds. I felt drawn to them and thought their bright orange color captured the golden light of fall. I scooped them up into my arms and took a full inhale and suddenly memories of my mother’s garden came rushing in — she always planted marigolds. I felt the crisp air of Heathen Hill up in the Catskills and could hear Lisa King’s voice as she demonstrated how to soak calendula in coconut oil to make her Heal-All Salve. I saw the flash of magenta, teal, and emerald green silk saris worn by the women at the ashram who were plucking out the orange pedals, amassing what seemed like a thousand pounds of marigolds for their puja. There I was, standing in a wholesale flower shop on 28th and 6th, and it was as if I had been transported into a completely different time in my life.
Croissants and Yoga
One of the highlights of my week in Paris was the croissant class I took at Le Foodist. This was my second class at Fred and Amanda’s English-speaking cooking school. I was so excited to learn the art of making croissants, especially since I’m already an expert at the art of eating them.
Happy Spring
Can you believe it’s finally here?! It sure as hell doesn’t feel like spring, but I’m trying to practice patience (what choice do I have?!) and faith by cultivating the spirit of spring in my everyday life. After such a long winter, it’s time to look at familiar patterns and rituals with fresh eyes. The changing seasons remind us that transition is not only a part of life, but that it can inspire a new way of looking at ourselves.
