Aligning with Grace

Nearly twelve years ago I started this blog after a visit to the Potomac River, which is about a mile from my home. I had not planned on writing, I just came home and did so, following an inner prompting. For years I came down to the river regularly. One year, it was almost a daily occurrence, and I sat on a bench during all seasons to do some meditative practices which evolved over time and transformed me in the process.  Recently, I received a message which I perceived intuitively. "Go back to the river. And take up these three practices once again. You need them!" And so, I listened. Over the course of the next few entries, I will share these easy practices with you. They are simple practices, but powerful ones. As I mentioned in my last entry, the purpose of spiritual practices and prayers is to transform ourselves, not others. Although others may change as a result of our own evolution as a spiritual being, that is not the focus here. It is about...

This week, for the first time in almost three years, I went back into the river... Yes, this same river that for several years, beginning in '08, first invited me in, and then beckoned... And so, I obediently responded to its calling, bought a kayak, and without any experience, launched myself off from the shore into a Great Unknown, relinquishing all control over where it would take me - both inwardly and outwardly... For the next few years, in stillness and silence, the River taught me all I needed to know. It yielded up its secrets, as I was companioned by blue herons and the bass fish that occasionally jumped out of the water to give me the once over... I forded into the waters and mists in the fog, performed penitential rituals during the High Holy Days, and chanted mantras in various sacred languages, over and over again. And in my ear the River whispered over and over again - "Let it go. Do not fight the current. Just flow"... and many more such sayings. I ...

"This is the beginning of a new day. God has given me this day to use as I will. I can waste it or grow in its light and be of service to others. But what I do with this day is important because I have exchanged a day of my life for it. When tomorrow comes, today will be gone forever. I hope I will not regret the price I paid for it." ~ Anonymous This morning the river looked different. Because of recent rains, it was swollen, and yet paradoxically calm at the same time. The currents were deceptively visible in a very understated way. I would have liked to have gone paddling, but I had a lot to attend to... It was simply glorious - sunny - and just slightly cool - that kind of day that is both cool and warm at the same time - straddling two seasons - a last gasp of summer welcoming the nascent harvest time of autumn. I did my Reiki and Lovingkindness meditations and sent healing energy to a small list of souls very much in need of physical and spiritual ...

I open the blinds and the dense fog takes my breath away. I know that it means only one thing. I MUST go down to the river! Such moments are few and far between, and I am reminded of paddling in the river on Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah, back in the fall of 2008... I cannot see to the other side of the river - it all grey - the sky and water blending as one. A fisherman launches off and soon disappears behind the veil... I don't know what it is about fog at the river that draws me and speaks to me. There is something so mysterious about it. I wish I could step into the river, but I have arranged to meet a friend for breakfast on this morning... I watch one lone goose, without it's friends, gently glide downstream for a bit... I do Lovingkindness meditations and prayers, and reflect on a series of insights and writings I have come across recently, like these: "Your prayers for someone may or may not change them, but it always changes you." ~ Craig Groeschel "Remin...

For only the second time since my surgery last summer, I stepped into the river... It's not like I haven't been in the river at this time of year before, but never in capris, and short sleeves, and my purple crocs! I pushed away from the launch site, and felt both freedom and exhilaration, as I paddled into the river, in Grace, my trusty kayak, who also accompanied me upstream day after day, just a few years ago, as I battled depression... But today, the only tune that played in my head, was, "I'm free! I'm free!, " by The Who. I know. I'm dating myself... I paddled to the Maryland side of the Potomac River, only intending to be there for a bit. I had a lot of work waiting for me back home. And, I was overwhelmed by the many needs out there, and so many requests for Reiki, prayers, healing energy and my time... I intended to say a few prayers, and somehow decide who needed them most today, and head back... But, God had something else in store for me. I was...

I cannot sleep. And so at dawn I rise and go down to the river... The tumultuous past weeks, in my Anusara yoga community, have taken its toll on so many. I can almost hear the voices of despair, sadness, and anger, and once more I recite the Reiki Precepts, reminding myself to not worry, not to be angry - and to be compassionate for everyone... But in my heart of hearts, here down by this river, I also acknowledge, truly, for the first time, that there is such a diversity of opinions in this torn community, represented by three Facebook pages, that the community that once existed, can never again come together in any sort of configuration. There are too many perspectives that cannot be reconciled. I am saddened by this. But, it is also a call to step into our power, and more fully acknowledge our connection to the Divine... Just as I am about to leave and come home, I spot a magnificent and noble swan on the other side of the river. I have never seen one here... I have a painting ove...

The morning is beautiful - warm and yet breezy - birds are singing everywhere - and it is more reminiscent of a day that would normally come about a month later... After my morning meditation, I head down to the river, and step into the waters, it is a baptism of sorts. I intend to cleanse away much of what has consumed my life of late, and instead, begin focusing on beginning anew... Like I did for years at the banks of this river, I take time - to breathe in the fresh air, as my eyes also absorb the broad expanse before me of undulating waves that come towards me - to recite the Reiki Precepts and do Lovingkindness meditation for myself, my Anusara community, for its previous leader, and for those - known and unknown - secretly hurting by all that has transpired... I do my own personal variation of Lovingkindness - the one that served me so well - and nurtured me and guided me out of depression - beginning with myself, and then adding many more to my recitation afterwards: "May ...

Those of you who have read this blog over the years already know, that over the course of a couple of years, not so long ago, I found myself in transition and deep depression, and I went down to the river to sit, meditate, and pray, and eventually to paddle in it. Over the course of that time, the river taught me many lessons, until it no longer needed to do so. This morning, I arose early, and was back on the Potomac River paddling, for what would perhaps be, the last time until the fall. Normally at this time, the hydrilla are growing quite wildly and overtaking and choking the river. Yet, for some reason, they have not made a noticeable appearance thus far. The river was as calm as it could possibly be. There was not a ripple or wave, or discernible current of any kind. I pushed off the boat launch area in "Grace," my trusty kayak, and paddled effortlessly to the Maryland side. Halfway into my journey across, a motorboat cruised by, and I soon found myself tossed about by...

I arise early, on this Sunday morning, with the first feeble rays of sunlight seeping into me, and rousing me from sleep. A heavy fog blankets my yard and neighborhood, and I excitedly make my way down to the river in silence... It is breathtakingly beautiful in the park. Herds of deer grazing, breakfast in deep oblivion, illuminated by pristine shafts of early morning light, piercing through the fog and the trees, which punctuate the skies, like exclamation points... I step onto the boat launch, inches from the water, and am silent witness to squirming tadpoles. I yearn to paddle on this exquisite morning, but I must make my way to the other side of the river to teach a very early yoga class... The river before me disappears into the gray mist - blending into the sky and the shoreline of the neighboring state I will momentarily be crossing. I cannot ascertain where one begins and the other ends. I watch a pair of fishermen silently glide away from the shore, swallowed by the thick and...

On this overcast day, cool and crisp, and reminiscent of the coming fall season, I am drawn to the river once again, with my coffee cup in hand, as I started almost every day, for the course of a year and and a half - three years ago in December... The river calls, and I return again... I came to this river to meditate almost daily, at a time during so many transitions and unanswered questions. I return once more, at a similar time once again, wondering what the future holds, and what will for me, in time unfold... It is hard to see, and harder still to know - what will come and what will be...But one more time, the river calls, and it still flows... I return again, not sure what to answer - or even ask... But this is a different river. They say you never step into the same river twice...My heart longs to get into the water to paddle, but I have deadlines to meet, and preparation for teaching and subbing for others this week...So I pause for just a moment, to offer these words... I wal...