I read this week that meditation doesn't have to be still. I don't know why I had to read it before I applauded it - as I have been "practicing" this sort of medication (ha! Typed that in error! I meant "meditation" ... but heck, meditation is my medication, too!) for many years.
Most of my exercise, bar Yoga, is done with the point of being efficient and productive while moving. I walk errands. I grind my coffee. I garden with purpose. A long time ago, I realized that my personality only affords a very few moments of still time each day. Spontaneous stillness is not in my nature. If I am decidedly sitting still, I am planning what to do when I can move. If I am still, it is a strict discipline. Yoga is as still as I get. And truth be known, it is efficient. It is saving my life! And I embrace the quiet moments of Yoga! But I keep moving. I truly believe that the measure of age is balance and flexibility. If I am going to make it to 110, I have to move and bend and stretch as much as possible now.
(When I was four, I attended the funeral of my great grandfather. His name was Hijinio Pineiro and he lived to be 109 years old! 105 of those years he was quite strong. He died on January 24th and his next birthday was February 12th - so he was just short of 110. And well, I plan on making it to 110!)
I do meditate. Being so human, I do have spurts where I am less faithful than others. But I do have mantras memorized (and am always memorizing new ones) so that I can also fit that glorious escape and discipline and freeing of meditation into purposeful motion.
I also will often purposefully slow down when doing a task to make sure I am taking in as much as possible - and this act usually happens in the garden. The power of the earth calls me when I am indoors. I run outside so many times a day, to accomplish yet another desire or need in the garden - but happily, proud, a little hurried, but with a definite "garden-to-do" list. I noticed that in between fitting gardening in to an already busy schedule, that there in the garden, I do not hurry. I never stop moving. I lift weights with stones and water buckets, I engage my core, I rake, and cut, and move ... but I walk decidedly and I can often be seen ever so lovingly uncurling a vine to train it to where I want it to go ... the whole time marveling at the tenacity of that vine to grab on and curl.
I have vines for hair. (Photo courtesy of Tullia Serene.)
My spirit is a vine - reaching and twirling to embrace Mother Earth. My tenacity is a vine ... who knows where it will reach and grow?
I planted Moon Flowers along with my Loofah and Cucumbers. All are climbing up bamboo teepees. The cucumbers are for 'SPEAR'mint soap. The Loofahs are for my Lotus soap. And Moon Flowers are my tribute to myself - for braving nightshift! All curl. All climb. All grab on. All intertwine so tenaciously and delicately and strong. I want to be like a vine - reaching for the sun, growing up, up, & up - tenaciously clinging to what is strong and natural and good and wholesome and joyful - and always moving.
Cucumber Vine on Left and Loofah vine on the right - with the Pewter Mug that was given to my Great Grandfather by the State of New York when he turned 106 years old, in 1976.
I'll "send" you pictures of the Moon Flowers when they bloom. For now, here are the beginnings of my cucumbers and Loofahs. They are a better-late-then-never story - because if you have been following this blog (thank you!) then you know that I had some dark months of pain that put my garden behind. Am I behind? No ... quite sure I am ahead. I came out so much stronger on the other side!
Here is a wonderful viney knot - such tenacity.
Much love to you all.