Tag Archives: love

Giving thanks…

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Today I’m struck by how much love I have in my life. How much love I have had in my past and how much love there continues to be in my life. Surely if I were to believe in past lifetimes, this must be a special lifetime. When I pause to think of gratitude, I can only have a sense of marvel, of awe. Wow. This IS really my life. This is really the result of the choices I have made in life. We make choices at each juncture, each moment, on how we want to live our lives, what matters to us most, and what brings us most peace. Not every choice is an easy one, and many require great courage of heart.

Maybe that is why I have always had a hard time choosing a famous person as a role model. I find the ordinary person to be as much of a role model. My greatest role model is my husband who brings kindness and patience and steady presence into his life every single day. He is funny, fun, kind and positive, no matter how stressful his day. He always stops to give way to others, while driving. He always writes a thank you note for the server. He always greets me in the morning with such sweetness and love. He adores his daughter and has never raised his voice with her. And he has his share of stress for sure, like any of us. Like all of us.

My inspiration is also my daughter, my 4 year old, who is so profoundly wise and so tender and loving that my heart opens every day just a little bit more. Sometimes, it is hard to bear – like when we are having gelato and she wants to try mine but won’t let me feed her, so she spoons herself a bite from my spoon. How much she yearns for independence and how brave she is to be willing to try so many new things in life and never let things get her down. She is my angel, my darling and my shining star.

So many people have loved me with their hearts, and accepted me and embraced whom I am inside. Words cannot express how awesome that is. And I have allowed myself to receive this love – and I am only now beginning to realize what a gift that can be for others.

So, on thanksgiving weekend, here is giving thanks to all the people near and dear, family and friends, far away but not far from the heart. Thank you for being part of my life.

first snow…

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Words fall like snow flakes

Gently on the ground

They melt away in presence

Leaving a shining essence…

 

Heart moves with a smile

Reflections on the wall

Is it me? Or you?

Impressions fall…

Like drops on the ocean

Do they leave a trace?

 

Drops, ocean, words, heart

See clearly what is lost

And what is found again

In these eyes looking within.

 

the practice of gratitude

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In the beginning of this month, I set the intention to bring my yoga practice into focus, along with the practice of gratitude. This week, I have managed to make space for yoga everyday with the exception of wednesday. The space has been sometimes early in the morning, sometimes in the evening before the chaotic dinner time and tonight, after 7.00. The commitment to five poses has been liberating. I have felt good about extending my yoga practice when time permits, but I have not held it against myself to have a brief practice at times. Doing yoga more than just a couple of times has been so good for me. One, it has helped me sleep better. Two, I am able to be more mindful of my spine extending and able to sense more resilience in my body and mind. My mind has felt clearer at the end of the day, with less of the dullness I usually feel by the time my family duties are over. I’m energized by the possibility that doing yoga more frequently IS possible. 

 

Regarding gratitude, isn’t this an endless journey!? Just when I was noticing yesterday that I have been feeling less inclined to anger lately, today I was hit by it out of nowhere. Yes, it is true, I have felt less prone to strong emotional upheavals in recent months; partly because of better diet and movement and partly because I have enjoyed many activities with Anjali. Her growing up into her 4s, has meant less irrational tantrums for her, and more calm for me. And I have taken time to notice this for sure. But today, my familiar friend Anger threw me for a loop. I had dropped down my guard. I had not taken my pause in a busy morning. I was also nursing the beginning of a headache. And there He was. Waiting. Of course. And I had forgotten my beloved Rumi’s words: 

“Learn the alchemy true human beings know. The moment you accept what troubles you’ve been given, the door will open. Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrade. Joke with torment brought by the friend.”

There is no other way but through, and gratitude leads us through. I feel humbled by my own emotions and vulnerability. My body’s tiredness and limitations sometimes and the shortcoming in mY own capacity to respond with wisdom. I think this is essential to compassion. If I were perfect, I would be unable to understand and empathize with the imperfections of others. When I see through my own humanness, when I accept the troubles, then my heart softens. My daughter said to me, ‘mom you are not being kind to me.’ It tore my heart open in that moment. The situation doesn’t matter – that I carried her crying, through the playground before she had a chance to say goodbye to her teachers, even though she had had adequate warning and plenty of time to play. Yes, I was not being kind. I was busy in a battle with my ego, my anger. My stories. My heart wrestled in that moment with the truth of the words. I was crushed against the weight of my own judgment. Anjali forgave me soon. She moved on. We had a beautiful afternoon. But  I didn’t really move on, until now, until the breathing softened me, through the yoga.

 

We hold ourselves with such love when we hit these tender moments. That is what we learn through the practice, and that is the way through. May we appreciate these moments of waking up. May we have peace through this journey of life. This moment is like no other. May we welcome this full moon, this new day with open heart. 

 

With love,  S.

 

Celebrations…

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Sunday morning bliss. A relaxed morning listening to music after breakfast at the local diner. It has been a really good week. A week of celebration, of Anjali turning 4. First we had close friends and family for samosas and cake last weekend. And then celebration at Anjali’s classroom at her Montessori school on wednesday where I got to participate and have lunch with all the children. Then, her actual birthday on Thursday when she got a new 16” bike, as promised. This one with all the frills – white and pink with a basket in front. Anji loves biking and will do it morning, noon and night, if she could. And she has outgrown her 12” (which she rides without training wheels!). She took to her 16” like fish to water.

Speaking of water, she also had her first swim lesson on Friday, which was a true delight to witness. Being a non-swimmer myself, I was touched by how much she enjoyed being in the water and learning to swim and how she trusted her teacher immediately.

And the last party (but certainly not the least) with her neighborhood friends at the local art studio yesterday with one of her favorite teachers. (While I got to snooze at home and Abhi got to watch a movie!).

A week of celebration of time passing by. My daughter is growing. I’m so excited for her and also moved by her new strides. She stays in her room in the morning watching the clock until it shows 6.00. I could never have imagined this. And when the clock strikes 6.00, thats when she comes over to snuggle in our room.

She is a stickler for rules. She loves rules and she also loves to tell others what the rules are. Like no shoes into the house. and no coming out of your room before 6.00! :). She is wonderfully creative and can play with her baby and little guys for hours, inventing stories. She also surprises me many times with her affectionate questions. She asked me last night if when she grows up, she could sit next to me for MY bedtime. I hope when I get old, she will be sitting by me! And we also have a deal that when she grows up, she is going to get a motorbike and take me for a ride. These innocent and spontaneous love-filled moments fill my heart and I’m moved to tears. That Anji is so happy with the small things in life. Playing outside. Riding her bike. Listening to bollywood songs and singing aloud and grilling us as to what the words mean! :). Truly, life has many surprises. It has been a week when I have had tiring moments – cakes to bake, errands to run, shops to go. But it is all worth the effort when my daughter told me last night – Mama, I like everything you do. I want to paste these words so I remember them during the down moments.

Anji you are amazing, awesome, and you heal my heart and bring me joy every single day. and you are my greatest teacher – of patience, persistence and forgiveness. I love you.

Journeys and memories…

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Whew! We finally made it to the movie. Babysitter has settled in with Anji who happily said goodbye. Coming after a difficult lunchtime where my nearly 4-year old daughter Anjali (whom we fondly call Anji or gudiya) wouldn’t touch her pasta, a nice goodbye was a ‘thank God no tears!’ feeling. Driving as fast as Abhi possibly could, we reached the theater in just over 10 minutes from Lebanon to Hanover. We only missed the first preview of a movie with something ‘moonlight’ in the title and with Colin Firth in it. (I would like to see that one – even if I missed the preview!). I breathed a sigh – a deep sigh of relief – letting all the tension of the day melt away as I settled into my seat with Abhi next to me.

Movies usually begin with the name of studios involved, and this movie began with ‘Reliance’ on the screen. A deep sense of reminiscence came in. Just a few weeks ago, Abhi and I were sitting in the Red lounge in the cinemas in Mumbai reclining our comfy seats with samosas on the side, watching ‘Reliance’ on the screen. Hmmm…. Maybe this will be nice. I thought to myself, preparing for ‘the 100 foot journey’.

As you would have guessed, we ourselves are just over a week, back from ‘an 8000-mile journey’ – our travel to India for a month. Not on foot or motorbike or anything glamorous like that, but in style on Virgin Atlantic. With a lovely 3-day stopover at London to break the journey and one of the most memorable trips of my life to India, this vacation was special.

Anjali, our daughter, is nearly 4 and our journey was fantastic. This time was so much more enjoyable than when I think back to her being 9 months and nearly 2 (the most nightmarish age for travel!) on previous trips. Right now her age makes her a fun traveler. She was excited and curious about everything. She wore her own seatbelt and used the bathrooms before takeoffs and landings when explained as to why. She asked the flight crew herself that she would like apple juice with no ice. She saw Frozen about 10 times through all the plane rides, and she took out her little guys and played imaginary games with them in between. As long as I didn’t make any demands on her eating or sleeping, we were on a roll.

As for our time in India – there are no words. Maybe I can best explain it by coming back to the ‘100 foot journey’. In the last scene, decked in colorful clothes, the cast brought feasts of Indian food to sit together with friends and family. And then credits started rolling in – and with it, so did my tears. Maybe it was the memory of the taste of the warm parathas made by Lataji, or the grilled mint chutney sandwiches for afternoon snack or the delicious omelette cooked with cilantro leaves and onions diced into tiny pieces made by Priyankaji. Maybe the white of the large paneer pieces against the green of spinach in palak paneer or the black creaminess of dal makhani or the crunchy samosas with yummy filling. Feast – I certainly knew what that was. And with family and friends – maybe that’s why the food tasted so good. The warm embraces of unconditional acceptance and the sense of endless time. Like exactly the right amount of tea leaves, ginger and cardamom into making the perfect cuppa. In that instant time stopped. Maybe this is why vacations are special. And maybe this is what makes our hearts tender with the sweetness of the memories. And makes it hard to let go.

Anjali has already let go. She is totally present in the now – excited about art camp this morning and popcorn and lemonade and the bridge to white river junction. Maybe I will get there sometime soon…

May there be many such vacations – and may you have (had) exactly the vacation you need this summer.

With peace and gratitude, S.

Happenings on Winter Break…

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One of the best things about my job as a high school teacher is that when Anjali has a snow day at her preschool, I do too. And when she has winter break, so do I. Hallelujah!

I had a lot of plans last weekend, facing an entire week ahead of time in the mornings to myself (with Anji at art camp). Time to catch up on work, have coffee with friends, saunter along on the main street, and do yoga and read poetry. On Monday morning, things were off to a good start. I did some work and went to yoga class after dropping off Anji. And then I went to pick up Anji. As soon as I saw her, I knew something was off. She was sitting in a daze, and looking…well.. a bit ashen. We came home and she threw up. One of many throw ups. Followed then were two days of my being dedicated mom to sick child. Lots of lap time, reading books (or same books over and over again) and cuddling with my little one. Comforting tears, cleaning up messes, and giving hugs.

Once I let my agendas drop, it was nice to pause and slow down. Anji is usually so much on the move all the time – that it was nice to snuggle with her as much as I did. We listened to sounds – to snow trucks clear the drive ways, the sound of water dripping after a shower, and to sounds of waves on our phone. Time paused. We saw Aamir Khan in ‘Taare Zameen Par’ painting with eight year old boy Ishaan. We made cookies (though of course Anji didn’t want any) and we slept a lot. Or she slept and while she did, I sat next to her and graded papers. And every now and then, looking at her sleeping face resting in complete surrender and peace, I felt a welling of tenderness. A reminder of the fleetingness of time.

So, time comes a full circle – sometimes in a short time. On this friday morning, I have dropped off Anji at her art camp, happy and herself again. She managed to eat some breakfast (miracle!) and with a peppy smile, waved a big good bye to me from the window as I drove off. What a sweet start to the morning.

There are some things we could never plan for, that turn out to be the sweetest of all things – moments that we cherish, love that fills our hearts and a softness that carries through our smile to others. May yours be a day with some or all of these things.

With Love, S.

Night lights…

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Last night was my first night with Abhi traveling. I stayed up too late after Anjali went to bed, reading a novel (set in Victorian times with some amount of gothic suspense, which is one of my favorite kinds…). By the time I hit the bed, I was imagining sounds of spooky houses and gardens around me. It took me a few minutes to align my senses with Anji’s breathing, sleeping on the mattress next to our bed. Then everything was fine.

Not to say the night was uneventful. right around 1.00am, Anjali woke up crying. I comforted her, put her in bed next to me, and realized after checking the time, that Abhi had probably just landed in Frankfurt, en route to Jeddah in Saudi Arabia. She was probably in sync with him, as they always are, sharing a special language of their own, father and daughter, and missing him.

My own dad had called me up Friday evening at around 4.30, which was around 3.00 am his time. My phone which has gone through many trials and tribulations ( as some of my friends may know from first hand details) now works for the most part, except the phone doesn’t ring when someone calls. Or rather it probably rings, but not in any frequency I can hear. So unless you are looking at the iPhone and see a face coming by, you won’t actually know someone is calling until you see the missed call later. But at that instant,at 4.30pm, in my car after my chiropractor appointment, with Anji behind in the car seat, just before I was about to pull out of the parking, I happened to check my phone and saw appa’s face. It felt so good!

My dad has a strange and comforting way of being there for me, more so when Abhi is traveling. It’s as if his sixth sense kicks in. It’s happened in the past when we went through some pretty lousy medical stuff while Abhi was traveling. He would call at the right time, and he was able to be present no matter what my emotions at the moment. On this Friday evening, my heart was gladdened hearing Appa’s voice. I could see Anjali’s smiling face in the rear view mirror, her sparkly eyes lighting up listening to me talk. as always, perfectly in sync.

So tonight, now that the novel is finished, and Anji is sleeping, the house feels quiet. A lingering sense of peace. Abhi has landed in Jeddah, and resting his weary body after traveling for over 24 hours. We got to see him for a few minutes on video, and as always he looked so great, even after traveling for so long. I don’t know how my amazing hubby manages that! :) I have let the dishes pile up, but I’m okay letting my obsessive compulsive cleaner off the hook tonight. Anji has cleaned up her toys before going to bed, and I have our Christmas lights on in the living room ( yeah already!) so our living room has a cozy glow. Time has slowed down tonight. Now it is time to hit the bed…

Namaste and peace to you.

Turning 3…

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My little girl just turned 3 this past week. Its been three mom years for me. It is so mind-boggling to me! Just now, it seemed like she was born, nursing in my arms, sleeping for hours, utterly vulnerable and dependent on me; on us, as parents. And already it has been three years. And she is a sheer life force of energy moving dancing jumping always ready. As Suzuki Roshi called it, an alert readiness. A readiness for life. When she is upset, she is passionately upset. and when joyful, joyful with her full body and mind. My passionate wild darling. Sometimes too much like her mother. (“and the lily, how passionately she needs some wild darling!”, Rumi, Maybe thats what I asked for.) Perhaps a little temperance maybe in order. But that’s not something I have ever learned properly. Dad will have to chip in on that one.

My sleeping baby is my favorite moment of the day. She holds my hand, even now, into her fourth year, before dozing off, into dreamland. sometimes she has some last few words, some mumbles before sleep arrives fully. She is always so warm. and she curls up like a cat, with her other hand rubbing her belly. Sometimes she sings, until that very last moment of sleep. itsy bitsy spider (her most favorite song!) mostly, sometimes twinkle twinkle. Perhaps there is a reason these songs are so popular among the little ones. The melody that one can repeat over and over again. It doesn’t end. But then it does. Everything ends, just as the baby years end and the toddler years arrive, and then the preschooler years.

Right now, thats where my baby is at. So incredibly brave, learning so many new things, giving herself fully to each new day and what it holds. It is amazing to me how much she is open to, how present. More and more I am aware of how many complaints I have. and I don’t do half as much as my little one does each day. So I learn slowly to drop them.

So here it is, to our little ones, our little buddhas. May we cherish the moments, of their touch, their tiny hands holding ours, their small feet flexing, the pouring of water in the tub from one cup to another, the wearing of tiny shoes themselves, and braving it into the worlds with their tiny lunch bags. Thats my diva, my angel, my rock star. Happy birthday my sweetheart!