My Country Tis Of Thee

Full moon today, and in the Ashtanga tradition, that means rest. It's not easy to take rest, when you are used to starting your day with a vigorous practice, but when I asked PJ how to deal with the rough feeling that can come on a day of rest, he suggested I do what he does: stay in bed most of the day.

So I decided to try it. Sans phone. Sans computer. Just rest. I also read -- finished my book, polished off a couple of issues of the New Yorker -- it was heaven. Later in the day, I did manage to get outside and garden, but I didn't leave home, and the only person I talked to was my neighbor.

It was glorious.

And I'll tell you what else was glorious: the article in the New Yorker about Aretha Franklin. Wow. She has not had an easy life, but dang, does she have a gift. Although I've blogged about this song already, if you haven't seen the video of her singing Natural Woman with the President crying in the background, it is well worth your time. So phenomenal.

Speaking of being moved to tears, patriotic songs like this one always do that to me, but with Aretha at the mic, well, I'm moved even more:

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From ev'ry mountainside
Let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills,
Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing.
Long may our land be bright,
With freedom's holy light,
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God our King.

These songs always inspire me to keep trying to make good on these promises for all Americans. Also in the New Yorker was a story of the mentally ill in Florida prisons. I cannot abide treating human beings inhumanely, and I'm going to do what I can to change it. Call me a hug-a-thug (term from the article) if you must, but all people deserve to be treated with dignity.

After all, how can we expect more from others than we refuse to give of ourselves?

Truth and Honesty

I think I've written before about the problems I've had with my right knee. It was really hurting for a while, to the extent that I could not even sit cross-legged, which was a real drag. It's getting better now, but it still hurts from time to time.

Yesterday after one of my yoga classes, the teacher began saying what he always says at the end of class: "Hands to the third eye to know the truth" -- and as I did that, I felt a sharp pang in my knee. Hmmm, I thought to myself, there is something I know (and am perhaps refusing to acknowledge?) that is related to what's going on in my knee.

And then this morning, during a meditation class, the teacher said:

"When you take just one single step toward the truth, the truth takes a thousand steps toward you."

So beautiful. And as my friend said after class, "I really hope that is true!"

As do I. I'm still trying to figure out what taking a step toward the truth looks like, although I think that's what I've been doing.

Here's what Aretha has to say on the subject:

I would like to see a show of hands
Nothin' concealed, roll up your sleeve
Nothin' up my sleeve except my heart
And I believe we've come apart

I would like to see you play your cards
Reveal your hands and show your heart
Maybe we could get it back

With truth and honesty that's what we need to hold on
To the good stuff we believe in
Before we land up loose and sad and free
Before we find that it's gone
We could pull it back together, truth and honesty
Open up your hands, show me your heart

Let's stay up till dawn and talk it out
Nothin' concealed, no alibi, retunin' to light
Before we start, then all we do is fall apart
If I can see the sunlight in your eyes

Then maybe we all could shine, yeah
Maybe we could get it back, oh baby, yeah baby

Truth and honesty, you know what we need, sure enough within
To the good stuff, the good stuff baby
You got to be real, you got to be real, you got to be sugar
To the good stuff we believe in, you got to, you got to...

Yep, you've got to be real. And for me today that meant returning to CamRock for some more fun riding after my many yoga and meditation practices this morning, and then sucking it up and cleaning my basement (with the help of a friend) this afternoon/evening.

As a result, I had another killer day in my body, my ex-boyfriend's bed is gone, the couch where mice were nesting is gone, the dead mice are gone, and I sent an email to a contractor about the possibility of replacing the ceiling where they are so clearly living.

I'm gonna keep working on taking steps toward the truth, but I think that dealing with what scares me -- e.g. mice in my basement, letting go of what's left in my life of the New Englander -- is a good step in that direction...

I Knew You Were Waiting

Besides being beautiful, this pool has the best music!

We flew out today, but not until 4pm, so we got to enjoy a swim -- one in the pool and one in the ocean -- before we left.

The pool my kids chose for the last swim was the bistro pool -- off the beaten path, and therefore not as busy. Plus, the radio is always blaring one cheesy favorite after another, and this morning was no exception:

Like a warrior that fights
And wins the battle
I know the taste of victory

Though I went through some nights
Consumed by the shadows
I was crippled emotionally

Somehow I made it through the heartache
Yes I did, I escaped
I found my way out of the darkness
I kept my faith, kept my faith

When the river was deep
I didn't falter
When the mountain was high
I still believed
When the valley was low
It didn't stop me, no, no
I knew you were waiting
Knew you were waiting for me

With an endless desire
I, I kept on searching
Sure in time our eyes would meet

Like the bridge is on fire
The hurt is over
One touch and you set me free

No, I don't regret a single moment
No I don't, looking back
When I think of all those disappointments
I just laugh, I just laugh

I may not be 100% entirely there, but I'm pretty darn close to feeling this way about my childhood, which makes spending time with my parents a billion times easier. This vacation felt easy about 98% of the time, which is pretty incredible.

It's been a long road getting here:

When the river was deep
I didn't falter
When the mountain was high
I still believed
When the valley was low
It didn't stop me

But while I know I owe a part of the relative ease with which I'm living these days to the healing made possible by really, truly loving and being loved, unlike Aretha and George, I'm not giving any love outside of myself all the credit:

I knew you were waiting
Knew you were waiting for me

So we were drawn together through destiny
I know this love we share was meant to be

I do know it was meant to be, this love I share with my New Englander. I know that it has made me like myself more, love myself more, be a better mother, a more avid reader, less defensive, more adventurous... the list goes on and on. But not faltering? Still believing? Not letting anything stop me on this long and winding healing journey?

All me, baby:

I didn't falter
I still believed
It didn't stop me

Change is Gonna Come

Tina Turner was a significant presence in my life when I was a party girl back in the day, and I was reflecting on how far we've both come when my Reiki practitioner put on a CD of her chanting at our last session. Tina has done interviews where she talks about what a huge difference becoming a Buddhist made in her life.

She talks in the interview about changing your life, which is powerful, but not nearly as powerful, in my opinion, as listening to her cover of this amazing Sam Cooke song:

I was born by the river in a little tent
And just like that river I've been running ever since
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will

It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die
Cos I don't know what's out there beyond the sky
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will

I go to the movie
And I go downtown
somebody keep telling me don't hang around
It's been along time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will

Then I go to my brother
And I say brother help me please
But he winds up knockin' me
Back down on my knees

There were times when I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gone come, oh yes it will

Yep, changing is H-A-R-D. But love helps. It's an incentive, it's a support, it's a resting place, it's the payoff that makes all the hard work worthwhile.

Turns out, this song has been covered by a gazillion people, and each cover is at least as beautiful as the last, from Al Green to Aretha Franklin (looking super young and super cute!) to Otis Redding to Beyonce to Billy Preston to Seal (this one might just be my favorite although it is super hard to choose) to Lauryn Hill.

(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman

Today is a day upon which, for many years, I celebrated the birth of an incredible man. Why should this year be any different, just because we're no longer married?

This song came to me as the tribute to him for several reasons:

1) He was the first man to truly make me feel like a natural woman.

2) He loves this song, and used to sing it to me frequently. He has a beautiful singing voice, and can even hit all the high notes.

3) This song was co-written by Carole King and was recorded on Tapestry, the first album he ever purchased. This, I think, is one of the most awesome things about loving someone -- learning these little facts about their lives.

It's true -- he stopped making me feel like a natural woman -- but all of the things that made him marriage material for me are still there -- with a little extra sprinkling of wisdom and yeah, a few more wounds. May this be the year he finds someone else to whom he feels like belting out this beautiful song...

I'm afraid youtube lacks a recording of my ex-husband singing this song, so you'll have to make do with Aretha Franklin, Mary J. Blige, or Carole herself, back in the day...

Respect

Tonight I went to the annual dinner of a conservative think tank. I was invited this year, for the first time, because I recently wrote a paper for them outlining what I view as the needed education policy reforms in my home state of Wisconsin (which, in case you're not up on this, changed from blue to red in this past election). It is safe to say I was in the minority in the room, which can be a bit of an uncomfortable feeling. The keynote speaker was the Governor-elect, and the only person in the room besides me that I recognized as having worked for our outgoing Governor was the security guard I'd seen when I had meetings with the Governor at his residence. Speaking of the Governor's mansion, the Gov-elect told a funny story about being bummed about having to spend his Saturday raking leaves rather than bow-hunting and being reminded by a friend that he won't be raking any leaves for the next four years. He's not likely to be doing much bow hunting, either, if he's anything like our current Governor -- the job basically requires you to work almost all of the time.

And while I by no means agreed with everything the Governor-elect talked about last night, I really believe that in order to solve some of our most intractable problems, urban education being one of them, we're going to have to come together and work with people whom we may have previously viewed as being on "the other side" or even "the wrong side." And I think Aretha's got it right -- the key ingredient to having this arrangement work, whether it's a man and a woman or liberals and conservatives, is respect.

Right now, I think that respect is lacking from both sides of the aisle. Against my protest, my son thinks nothing of calling the candidates he doesn't support "idiot," and as I was driving home, I saw a giant billboard that said "How's all that Hope and Change working out for ya?"

So this is my challenge, both to myself and to anyone else willing to take it on: even when we don't agree with someone's else's views or decisions, can we look not for the differences but for the commonalities? Can we then see if we can use this common ground to work toward goals that we all share -- like great schools for our kids? If we could spend less energy on blame and suspicion, might there be more room for solutions?