All posts by Deb Sherrer

Stories on Ether

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Look to the sky
for an ever-changing story
told in clouds and colors
rising, shape-shifting, setting
in textured moods,
flowing on blue canvas.

See today’s tale-
burgeoning swaths
of dark charcoal
all heavy-hearted,
but for the slim edges
of white,
one insistent wedge
of blue
hope.

Galway Kinnell (poem excerpt)



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The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing . . .

Galway Kinnell, excerpt from Saint Francis and The Sow


 

 

last blossoms

Unknown-2before the frost

     The last blossoms are just as vibrant as the first and just as innocent of their pending demise. Humans have no such naiveté regarding the autumn and winter of their lives.  Once we begin to anticipate the fade from the glow of deep summer, we become aware of the precious, finite quality of our lives.  “Life is short.” “This is not a dress rehearsal.” “You only live once.” all take on real meaning beyond the familiarity of adages.  These are no longer phrases or concepts; you feel into them.  Your body mirrors back the changes of autumn, initiating a letting go in inevitable steps, particular ways. While not culturally acceptable, a knowing part wants to let go into this gilded time, where what matters most is simple and unadorned by status, materialism, the high energy of youth. Vibrancy is redefined in depth, the exploration of gathering wisdom, a turn toward the quiet, creative center. Perhaps all of this is necessary, so the last, sweetest blossoms of one’s gifts can manifest fully in the second half of life, long before the killing frost. 

 

 

Wanderlust Stratton, Vermont 2015

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the greatest place 

The tents have been leveled and carried away, leaving little trace of the infamous four-day yoga festival that attracts an unusual band of high-level teachers, fun-loving youth, seekers-to-contemplatives, and the random lost souls.  We can see parts of ourselves in everyone present, the common thread a passion for yoga and the requisite mat slung over one shoulder.  No matter the differences in purpose, physical condition or shape, everyone is drawn to their mat, inevitably for a bit more peace, a bit more connection to something deeper and elusive in the day-to-day rumble and push of life.

This was my second year attending and each time Seane Corn has been the highlight.  She is a fierce and unapologetic teacher committed to offering a practice that evokes yoga’s true essence and depth “with strength and flexibility as nice by-products.” Her teaching asks everyone to look within for the healing of self and the inevitable impact on others, our broader communities, and ultimately the planet.  Out of context, it can sound New Age lofty. In her presence, it is purely authentic and deeply moving.  The ultimate by-product in her presence is full-hearted living, with heavy doses of clarity, love, and deep compassion for our shared humanity.

The other highlight this year was hearing Kevin Pearce speak about his life as an Olympic hopeful, the traumatic brain injury that ended his competitive career, and his remarkable recovery which is currently supported through yoga and mindfulness practices.  His inherent kindness, humor, and remarkable resiliency shined through. With family support, Kevin has helped to initiate the Love Your Brain Foundation whose primary goal is to create access to yoga for individuals affected by traumatic brain injuries.

 

 

 

 

Blossoming Wisdom

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How many pulses,
how much life force
does it take from seed to bloom?
And never does the flower ask:
Am I too big?
Are my colors too bright?
Is it ok to be true, beautiful?
It blossoms, ever-opening in its season,
perfect way, striking in sweet scent,
innocent and pure in delicate petal, detail
unfurling to wholeness again
and again and again.

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