Dear Friends, Yogis and Yoginis,

Emily Dickinson once wrote, "I'll tell you how the sun rose...she rose one ribbon at a time." Which is also how she sets. On Winter Solstice, I'm acutely aware of the sun's rising and setting. This year my awareness of that includes the striking sound of silence as I awoke this morning to the neighborhood blanketed in ice and later the sound of freezing rain pelting the back deck before sunset began.

As Solstice is my personal holiday this time of year, I'm preparing for my ritual: yoga and meditation over sundown followed by contemplation of the last year's darknesses (those areas in which I was not able to act with integrity, clarity or compassion), and the blessings of the luminous moments of the year (those moments when I was able to rise into new courage in action, stay present when conditions tempted me otherwise, and live in the teachings that inspire me most). From those contemplations, I may become aware of situations or relationships in which I need to make reparations or extend communication that gifts the other with my own awareness of how I contributed to the darkness that may have unskillfully come between us. I then write letters to those people. For all the years I've been practicing this ritual, the numbers of letters I need to write have greatly diminished. I'm still intrigued by the whole process in which darkness rises out of an often overlooked and sometimes turbulent place in ourselves and how we can bow to it as a guide for us in seeing ourselves more completely, both in catching our blind spots and delighting in our growing capacity to respond from the luminous even when the shadows arise.

I wish you well in your own process of evolving and look forward to sharing this journey with you in 2009. I'm saddened that the year is ending without us having been able to offer many of our regular classes (which, of course, means I've missed seeing most of you since before the Breitenbush Retreat). When I count the blessings of this past year, the amrita community is at the top of my list! Thank you all for being a part of what makes the place shine!

Warmly,
Sarahjoy

P.S. The latest chapter on the Hip...

Well, Tuesday will mark the two-week anniversary of a major milestone in my recovery process, as well as a personal adult milestone: I bought a car on December 9th! After months of commuting contortions (thank you everyone who offered rides!) and the continued news from my surgeon that I can not ride a bike yet, unless the ride would include only flat roads with no major traffic (would I have to move to South Dakota for that?), I joined the larger community and bought a car. Two days later I drove to Breitenbush in my new-to-me-used Prius with Lani and Rivkah. As the snow we're experiencing now began on Friday the 12th, I was feeling relieved to have chains in the car.

On Sunday, the last morning of the retreat, we employed a strategy of combining the beginning and intermediate sessions so as to give people plenty of time to get their chains on and travel safely home. As the owner of the new-to-me-used Prius, I was feeling energized and capable as I unpacked my new chains and looked at the big-enough-to-easily-see-without- my-new-reading-glasses how-to pictures that came with the chains. This would be easy! I slipped the chains on from left to right, the yellow part coming around the tire for me to connect with the blue part. I was thrilled to be able to squat down in the snow (I would have been thrilled with just the squatting, of course!) and put the chains on myself. However, as the project progressed, I was even more excited to have the soothing help of one of my students (thank you, Ed!), as snow was getting stuck in the place where you have to hook the yellow part to the blue part and the chains wouldn't grip together. (I made a note to buy a pocket knife and some black leather gloves!)

Once the chains were fixed, we headed off for a
6-hour drive home. Whew! What a way to break in a new-to-me-used car...

Two days later, I was at my physical therapy appointment where the word had spread from my surgeon to my PT that I was ready for them to "throw anything at me," as I was getting such high marks and still surpassing expectations. What this amounted to on that day was a mindful, caring, and firm attempt to increase the internal rotation capacity of my right leg. It was the only painful physical therapy session I have had. Well, at least the only one in 28 years, when I was last being arm wrestled by a physical therapist after my surgically repaired left elbow had the pin removed and they were determined to increase my range of motion. After those sessions, I was regularly rewarded with ice cream sundaes. Not this time. This time I was rewarded with 30 laps of the side stroke in the therapy pool.

I spent the next couple of days walking timidly from the resulting pain of my new hip capacity, and the treacherous ice on my steps, front yard and dead-end street. Fortunately, my new-to-me-used-Prius-with-chains supported me gallantly as I returned for a follow up session where I was again lovingly, caringly and firmly supported. But this visit was for traction, joint gapping and strength activities aimed at renewing my neural pathways for muscle stability. These exercises were not easy! They resembled little lifts of one leg while stabilizing with the other. Far less actual movement in space than a one-legged downward dog, but nonetheless quite a bit more challenging!

With new homework and greater ease, I was off again in my new-to-me-used-Prius-with-chains, feeling confident and ready for the next weather pattern. In my own life, this included 4 hours of cookie baking with 6 different kinds of cookies. Hooray that I was not baking cookies on one leg, as I had done in September with my first seasonal apple pie!
I gingerly delivered cookies to my neighbors, who reminded me not to slip and damage my still newly repaired, and costly, hip.

Now, I'm safely ensconced in a warm home with leftover cookies, Piquito, Tom and plans for my Solstice ritual. Tom pushes me to climb the stairs, indoors, and offers a sturdy elbow for any stairs, outdoors. He'll hold Mr. P's leash when we walk since the little guy has way more leverage than you can imagine and I don't want to have an unplanned sled ride!
Hope you are all faring well and making skillful use of the time we've been given to stay home, curl up and give in to nature's invitations.