An Update

I’ve moved from sunny Southern California to temperate Northern California. It’s been just over a month since we made the almost-400-mile trek from Claremont, and it is starting to feel like home here.

So far, I’ve done a terrible job at keeping my promise to post more frequently on social media (a promise made to try and minimize feelings of distance). But, as a result of my delay, I have lots of news to report!

We are all settled in our new apartment in Castro Valley. Samson relishes his time sunbathing on the patio and napping on our new bed. In terms of renovations, we managed to remove some weed-like grass, replacing it with hibiscus and gardenia bushes, and we’re trying our hand at nurturing some seeds into plants. So the patio is a place we all like to spend time. 

Our roommate, Dillon, is not only great with Samson, but he also a) installed a projector that makes in-home film-watching more like being in a theater, b) willingly joins Z and me for game night, and c) frequently entertains us with his mad musician skills. Here are some photos of our place (along with a game of "Where's Samson"):

I’ve adjusted pretty well to my long commute to work at CSU Stanislaus (an hour and twenty minutes one way… the good news is that I go against the flow of traffic). I’m making excellent use of audio books, making calls home, and listening to my favorite podcast, “On Being.” Even though it is only week four, I am already super impressed by how bright my students are and how friendly and welcoming my colleagues have been. I’m smitten with the campus in general, aside from how far away it is!

Zachariah is adjusting very well to law school. He was accepted to his top picks for the Student-Initiated Legal Services Projects (“Tenants Rights Workshop” and “Political Empowerment and Election Project”). He’s already made a slew of friends (whom we had over for dinner the other night in our first attempt to entertain in our new home). And, perhaps the most impressive feat, he manages to stay on top of his crazy study load (I honestly cannot believe how much homework he has on a weekly basis!). And, sustainability-enthusiast that he is, he also sold his motorcycle and bought a collapsible bicycle, so he can take the BART (local public transit) to/from school (I think he looks great in that helmet). Here are some photos of our office area (aka where Z has taken up permanent residence) and his mode of transportation:

In addition to the new friends we’ve made, we are very lucky to have a handful of old friends in the Bay Area to keep us socially alive, which has made our transition much easier!

We haven’t been able to get out too much to go exploring, but we make a point to dine out once a week and we’ve even gone into the city for a show. I’ve made a habit of visiting the farmer’s market every weekend and have volunteered to do yoga for senior citizens at the local community center, and Z is hoping to join a softball team. So slowly but surely we’re becoming part of our new community.

And definitely my favorite bit of news to share—I am now a yoga instructor at Castro Valley Yoga, where I teach three classes per week. I am completely overjoyed at the opportunity to practice yoga in my new community. I’m learning a lot, and I’m excited to keep learning more as I continue onward with this yoga journey. So many blessings have come from this practice, and I feel very honored to grow at this new yoga home.

The one thing that makes it difficult to adjust is being so far from our family and friends, so I am hoping to have some visitors very soon (ahem!). Missing you all very much and sending lots of love your way until we meet again.

  

Summer 2016: A Season of Life, Death, and Rebirth

One of the most heart-wrenching moments in literature happens in The Divine Comedy, when Dante must say goodbye to Virgil. (Summary of The Divine Comedy: Dante travels through hell, purgatory, and then heaven; the journey is both literal and figurative, representing his physical movement through these places and also his spiritual path toward salvation). The scene is a conflicting one for Dante and for his readers—though we are excited to finally see Beatrice (Dante’s love on earth but also the inspiration for his journey), we get Beatrice only by losing Virgil (Dante’s guide through hell and purgatory). Virgil was much more than a guide; he was Dante’s father figure, mentor, and fellow poet. To lose Virgil is to lose a trusted companion. And to gain Beatrice is to gain heaven and to align with the very light leading the way to paradise. Why is it that when he finally reaches the thing toward which he’s been striving, he can’t help but look back in sadness at what he has to lose? Does gain always come with loss?

As a reader, I too was heartbroken to lose Virgil, and yet I was enthralled to meet Beatrice. But my emotional response stemmed from more than what was happening on the page. I saw my own journey as a graduate student coming to a close. I saw myself about to say goodbye to my symbolic Virgil (graduate school), and I saw myself preparing to face my symbolic Beatrice (whatever awaits me in my future).

I was a graduate student for seven and a half years. Yes, it was thrilling to finally reach my goal and graduate, but coming out the other side was also very scary and even saddening. How do I say goodbye to something that has been so meaningful in my life?

The same feeling struck me two days ago as I participated in a ceremony to mark the completion of my 200-hour yoga teacher training (YTT) with my trusted guides at MOSAIC—the yoga studio that I have mentioned on countless other occasions in these writings. MOSAIC’s mission—“to awaken and uplift”—has been foundational in my spiritual journey. MOSAIC is another Virgil in my life. I have attended many of their trainings, workshops, retreats, and classes because they are so much more than a standard yoga studio. To explain it here would derail me from my point for this entry, but suffice it to say that there is something profound and spiritual happening within the walls of their studio and within the hearts of their practitioners.

As the training came to its close, I was heartbroken to end an intensive study of yoga, to leave a city as vibrant and magnetic as Charlottesville, to say goodbye to the friends I made, and to graduate from the guidance of some of the most inspiring teachers I have ever had. It was difficult to leave after feeling so uplifted and full, knowing that uncertainty awaited me upon my arrival home.

But I know that the time has come to take what I’ve learned over all these years and share it with others—it is time to get to work.

And in a few more days, I face another goodbye. Saturday, I leave Southern California—the only home I have ever known—to move to Northern California, where I will live for the indefinite future. I will be living in a new place, far from family and the majority of my friends. I will begin teaching at a university I have never before seen. I will travel freeways I’ve never navigated. A lot of change and all at once. Though this goodbye is another sad one, I know that there are exciting opportunities ahead. I trust in the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

All this change and all these endings are teaching me that there really aren’t any goodbyes because everything and everyone will always be with me. Just as Virgil will always be with Dante, so too will the experiences in graduate school, the transformational time at MOSAIC, and the love of my friends and family be with me. And just as Dante walked toward the unknown with faith, so too will I step into the space of uncertainty, trusting in the thrust of my life and the work I have done to prepare myself for whatever lies ahead.

Purgatorio (the second book) ends with these lines:

From that most holy wave I now returned

to Beatrice; remade, as new trees are

renewed when they bring forth new boughs, I was

pure and prepared to climb unto the stars.

This ending reminds us that the journey forward, though difficult at times, promises renewal and rebirth. The “stars” (note, all three books of The Divine Comedy end with this word) symbolize the destination and the value of the journey itself. The stars also serve as a larger metaphor for humanity—though we can never, with our limited mortal understanding, truly comprehend the magnitude and magnificence of them, and though their flame seems only a distant flicker, they are sources of light, illuminating darkness, serving as guides when we feel uncertain on our journey. Dante teaches us to step forward, even when we cannot know where we’re heading, even when we are saddened by what we have to leave behind. We have to keep moving toward the light of the stars. 

My Best Reading from 2015

As is now my annual tradition, I’m sharing my favorite reading from last year… just in case any of you have made a resolution to learn more and/or read more and need a solid recommendation. This is the short list, so if you want any other recommendations, please don’t hesitate to ask. But if you’re looking for the gems, I’ve listed them below.

They’re in a particular kind of order. I’m going to start off with what I believe are the most important readings (those concerning spiritual growth), then move to some non-fiction that will make you very angry (re: capitalism, greed, exploitation, racism), then transition to some non-fiction that will warm the heart and make you smile (one classic, one contemporary), and end with the most powerful collection of poetry I have ever read that can lift your spirit and inspire you to go out into your natural environment—to love nature and to love yourself as a unified being with creation.

As always, I look forward to talking to you after you’ve read one, since all literature really comes to life and becomes part of you if you share your thoughts and ideas on it with another… and because it’s just so fun to talk about books!

A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose

By Eckhart Tolle

I am not sure how to sum up this book other than this: it can change your life. Of all the books I’ve read over the last few years on spirituality, this is the one that does the best job of summing it all up. In other words, were I left with only one contemporary spiritual teaching, it would be this accessible work.

The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth

By M. Scott Peck

This is another enlightening work that can change your life. Peck offers my favorite definitions of love: “The will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth” (81). This conception of Love is still so profound to me, even as I type this and reconsider it… because its meaning is contingent upon spiritual growth, both for the self and for the other person. I read this book on the recommendation of my spiritual teacher, Melissa Love Glidden (also one of the founders of MOSAIC, my yoga studio in San Diego to which I’ve referred throughout this blog). Peck’s words are powerful—so much on how to truly love, both others and yourself. If taken to heart, this book will revolutionize how you interact in relationships.

Encyclical Letter: Laudato Si’

By Pope Francis

As most of you know, I am not affiliated with any one faith or doctrine, but I believe there are universal truths in written form that are worth sharing, and the Pope's most recent Encyclical on the issue of "care for our common home" is one such written work. I came across it while researching my dissertation topic on ecology, and it is full of beautiful gems and disheartening truths... ones that I hope we all take the time to think about and bring into our hearts. His final message, at least how I interpret it, is a recipe for how to save our planet from destruction—in order to care for nature and ourselves, we must learn to LOVE in a way that exhibits “universal fraternity” for all life, and once we tap into this deep, profound LOVE, we can then see the interconnectedness of all that is and we can then know the ecological and spiritual truths that permeate our existence.

The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History

By Elizabeth Kolbert

There have been five mass extinctions during Earth’s 4.5 billion years of existence, and Kolbert provides scientific proof that we are on the verge of a sixth mass extinction (meaning, more than 50% of all species will be eradicated from the planet). Such an important book for all of us to read, so we can be informed about this critical situation we’ve got ourselves in. However, I must say that this book needs a warning sign attached to it: Contains very disturbing information about the fate of humanity and our planet. I have never cried so much while reading before, and not for good reasons. I was appalled at some of the events she recalls and information she relays because it is difficult for me to believe that humanity can be so corrupt, selfish, greedy, and dark. Nonetheless, the ending reminds us that there is still hope—we can change the course of our inevitable doom if we change our actions now.

The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism

By Naomi Klein

Klein has easily become my favorite non-fiction author. She is fearless in her critique of free-market capitalism and its greedy, exploitative actions against those most vulnerable—those living in a region where there is disaster, be it human-created disaster, like the Iraq War, or natural disaster, like Hurricane Katrina. Examining Milton Friedman’s and the Chicago School’s influence on economic strategies implemented around the globe, she tells the unfortunate story of how people in positions of power take advantage of shock to gain capital and power. If you want to skip the long reading and watch a documentary outlining the major concepts, check out some options like this and this on Amazon.

This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate

 By Naomi Klein

I was serious about loving Klein’s work. This is her most recent book, and if you’re noticing a trend here, you’re right. She basically has it out for free-market capitalism. And she should. We all should. This book, published in 2015, tells how we got ourselves into this mess of climate crisis (note, if Kolbert predicts our future, Klein gives us our history).

The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness

By Michelle Alexander

Alexander, a civil-rights lawyer and legal scholar, argues that we are not in an age of colorblindness, as many people believe, but rather in an age where the US criminal justice system operates to control racial groups and discriminate against people of color. She explains how the War on Drugs is actually a contemporary version of the Jim Crow Laws from the Reconstruction Period, meaning, a redesigned version of a caste-system that targets the African American community, specifically men. Alexander includes a remarkable amount of evidence, statistics, and figures on the issue that will appall you for the injustice it reveals. Her book offers a call to action to confront this issue in the name of racial justice and civil rights. Take a look at her website for more info and definitely watch the trailer.

Don Quixote

By Miguel De Cervantes

For those of you who love a good laugh and need some fiction in your life, this is for you! Tells the story of Don Quixote, a man living in sixteenth-century Spain who believes he is a knight-errant (in a time when knights are of the distant past), and who ventures forth with his squire, Sancho Panza, in search of ways to make himself useful. The tale explores the themes of how we construct identity, how individuals quest to find their place in the world, and how all of life contains elements of seeking, both externally and internally. I read Don Quixote in a course on world literature and was surprised by how much I enjoyed reading it. Not only is it hilarious, but it is also an important work in the literary canon, since it marks the rise of the novel in the west. Note, don’t be discouraged by its length—the novel is comprised of two sections, and I felt satisfied to stop at end of the first section.

Driftless

By David Rhodes

Another beautiful work of fiction. Doc (aka Professor Arthur Seamans) recommended this reading to me years ago, and I finally got around to reading it. So glad I did. I rarely make time for contemporary fiction, and novels like this make me worry I’m missing out! Includes one of the most lovely descriptions of death, a few of the most memorable scenes of human tribulation, and some of the most poetic prose I’ve ever read.

New and Selected Poems, Volume One

By Mary Oliver

This year, something incredible happened. I switched to a new favorite poet—Mary Oliver. Though I still love Elizabeth Bishop, I find Oliver’s poetry full of so much hope. There is a sense of universal connection to all living beings that permeates her work. She marvels at nature, at life, at all things, and finds in them a reflection of herself and the cosmos. Love and Truth are at the heart of every poem, even when presenting a challenge to how we normally conceive of love and truth. A truly remarkable collection of poems—within its pages lies an invitation to change how you see the world, yourself, and all of creation.

Lighting Candles: Dealing with Darkness and Grief

One of my lifelong teachers, Professor Arthur Seamans, aka “Doc,” has an arsenal of aphorisms—one-liners, sayings, tidbits of wisdom he’s collected from well-known quotes, mythologies, verses, and, of course, poetry. Since I’ve been lucky enough to spend lots of time in his presence, I’ve been able to gather these aphorisms, to memorize them, to keep them for safe keeping until I needed them. Over the past week, two of Doc’s sayings helped me understand something that felt completely overwhelming at first.

The first quote comes from William Wordsworth, a Romantic poet who became England’s poet laureate in 1843. During my senior year of undergraduate studies, Doc conducted an independent study for me in Romantic English Literature, and Wordsworth’s “Lines Written in Early Spring” was on the syllabus. Here are two lines that stuck with me:

And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man. (lines 7-8)

A week ago, as I sat down to eat dinner, a song came on my Pandora station that has always tugged at my heartstrings: the theme from the film Schindler’s List. I don’t know what came over me, but I lost it. I wept. Reflecting back to the film, which is always a difficult one to watch, and to the atrocities it displays from World War II, I was struck by the cruelty, by the hatred, by the darkness within humanity. Thinking of the Holocaust and what we are capable of doing to one another, I allowed Wordsworth’s lines to nurse my grieving heart.

Though the experience—the music playing and its ability to transport me to a specific time in history—was powerful, indeed, I knew something else was going on. I knew that my despair had been building up.

For the last two weeks, I’ve read a series of books on a subject that is both terribly appalling and utterly shocking, but to stay on task, I’ll just mention the two books that stand out most and that are relevant to this post (of course I’ll explain these books more in depth at the end of the year in my annual “Must-Reads” blog post, but for now, a snapshot will have to do).

The first book is Elizabeth Kolbert’s The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History. In it, Kolbert offers up as evidence a survey of scientific studies, ranging from sociology to anthropology to biology to ecology, to prove that the earth is on the verge of our sixth mass extinction (note, a mass extinction qualifies as a wipe-out of at least 50% of all species; the last time this happened was 66 million years ago, and the other four occurred before that over the span of Earth’s 4.5 billion years of life). As if that news wasn’t disturbing enough, she names the cause—humans. Our mistreatment of nature will lead to our demise, to the extinction of our species.

To corroborate and really breakdown the how and why of this sixth extinction is Naomi Klein’s This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate. In this book, Klein fiercely explains how capitalism (and all its accouterments—greed, materialism, consumerism, colonialism, industrialization, exploitation, power) is responsible for the changes in our climate, changes that will cause our sixth extinction if we don’t do something drastic now. Humanity’s obsession with these things has seemingly disconnected us from all that is sacred—human life, the natural environment, and morality. Klein shows us the error of our ways, not backing down for a moment in holding up the mirror to our deeply flawed ideologies—ideologies that have turned us against ourselves because their truths are too inconvenient to our current way of life.

And so, as I grieved over the Holocaust and over one of humanity’s darkest hours, the truths presented in these books accompanied that grief. Our mistreatment of one another and our Earth exceeds my comprehension entirely.

Much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of…

But then, Zachariah came home. We hugged, we sat in communion together over a meal (mine being reheated), we shared news from our days, and we feasted and delighted in one another’s company. How quickly I was reminded of the good in the world. How quickly I felt the power of love (the big-L love—the love that permeates all existence—and though little-l love—romantic love—offers up its own beauty, that’s not quite what I mean here). How quickly the veil of darkness lifted, and I could see clearly again.

And then another of Doc’s gems came to me:

It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.

This one phrase has lifted me out of many emotionally overwhelming situations, has helped me make sense of the most trying times and circumstances. Once it became part of me, everything else just clicked, meaning, my entire cosmology fell into place, though it took me some time to understand that cosmology fully. When I took this phrase in, I made a silent vow to myself: I will strive to be a person who lights a candle. Though I may fall into despair when facing hard times, this phrase reminds not to dwell there for long, since cursing the darkness will never do any good.

I wanted to write up this blog post the very next day, on Thursday. But time ran away from me, and in my procrastination, the world was tormented by terrorism, by the darkness that exists in humanity. So now seems as important a time as any to pass along the wisdom I’ve been blessed with from Doc, wisdom that has me choose against cursing the darkness and instead opting for prayer—prayer for the world, for the Earth, and for humanity. Even though Wordsworth’s sentiments may someday resonate again, I trust in my ability to help raise our collective consciousness, to uplift others toward love, and to light my candle.