It’s not really yoga, but it is an example of opening up to how one can, as B. K. S. Iyengar says, endure what we cannot cure: NEW! For Kids: “A Treasure Hunt for Mama and Me is an excellent example of offering ways a child can work to adapt to and accept a parent’s chronic or serious illness.” – Midwest Book Review “For families coping with parental illness such as Parkinson’s, this is a very enjoyable and helpful read.” – Cathi Thomas, MS, RN Small Horizons (an imprint of New Horizons Press) Ages 5 up $9.95 Available at your local bookstore or on Amazon
I click the Like icon routinely on friend’s Facebook posts or their comments on mine. It’s a rare moment, however, when my internal Like button gets pressed and that immediate, undeniably warm sensation whooshes in and says, Yes. Good. Life is better because that person is here living it, too. In yoga, our awareness opens us, teaches us to step back from our egos and witness the Like in all. Well, I’m not there, yet. Maybe after the election. In the meantime, there are people such as Meg Bernard. I haven’t met her, have never spoken with her, don’t know where she lives. Still, she has a message and such likeability worth sharing. Almost makes me want to staple her name to a stick and stand on the street corner urging you to read Meg’s blog (click to read her blog) and cast your ballot for more people like her.
I know where I recognized that dread, that weight, that sour taste that defined this morning after the election. I woke to it the morning after my diagnosis. Egads. I grieved — occasionally still do — and I got out from under the weight. Time to do it again with yoga and: My EGADS approach to Parkinson’s ^(11/9/16) Life Exercise (yoga is good) & eat well (that includes pie) Give a compliment (once in a while, I give one to myself) Aaah moments (find three each day; in difficulty, refer to above: pie) Do something for someone else Step outside (breathe) And remember – quoting my friend, Cindy – until there is a cure, there is community.
Sir Thomas greets each morning with a romp and rip through the yard, his tail high and happy. Dinner continues to be met with a lot of wagging. As does breakfast. As does snack time. As does the opening of the plastic container with leftover ham in it. Recently, however, by day’s end, the spring in Tommy’s step has sprung. Late afternoon, he’ll saunter up beside me and I notice that I have to slow my pace to his. It might just be that my mighty boy is telling me he’s getting tired. Perhaps that’s what the ‘tire’ in retirement means. The word conjures up images of golf clubs, very white sneakers and dinner reservations by 5:00 pm. The actual definition is retreat, withdraw, leave service. So, when should a service dog leave service? Google the question and hundreds of varying recommendations appear on screen, none of which derive […]
I’m not a light packer. A weekend getaway requires a giant duffel. Forget shoes, there’s the sack of daily Parkinson’s meds, service dog paraphernalia–bed, harness, food–more food–and of course, my yoga mat. Now, imagine a month-long vacation in a compact RV. Fortunately, James (the RV) feels roomy due to lots of nooks and cubbies (and a wee bit of cramming) to store the four weeks’ worth of supplies. But I forgot about the extra 165 pounds of Great Dane—and his bed and food, and more food–on board. It wasn’t looking good for unrolling my yoga mat. That concerned me. Vacation time away doesn’t mean time away from yoga. Hours of sitting on James, no matter how glorious the views, would be an open door to lurking rigidity. No space? No problem, I decided. By pairing upward salutes with seated half dogs in my co-pilot seat, I created a rendition of […]