Buddha Sees His Shadow

        Spring Is Coming!

Buddha Statue in the snow, spring cleaning class

Not known to be a skier, he’s up to his eyes with this snow… 

Thanks so much to the Yoga and Cooking class attendees this past weekend!  Great food, lots of fun, and many requests to have another.  Isn’t it the perfect place and huge kitchen for a class like that?  It’s a joy to teach there every Monday morning. 

Thanks to Amy for her kitchen skills.  I’ll be sure to post the pictures and recipes up here very soon.  Send in your recipe/theme requests for the next class.  A series would be excellent.

I just opened the registration for our annual Spring Equinox Yoga class.  Saturday, March 21’st 12:30 to 2:30pm at Yoga and Nia for Life.  we already have a few sign-ups for this spring-cleaning class, let me know right away if you can join us.  This will be an opportunity to honor the changing of the seasons, clear out old ways of thinking, dismiss lingering tensions and anxieties in our body/mind.  Say Yes to spring.

Also check out the Restorative class that Natalie Engler and I are hosting at Yoga and Nia for Life on March 29’th.  12:20-2pm.  Natalie is a master at restorative Yoga and this special class is limited to just 20 participants.

Yeah, another storm, but spring seems right around the corner!   The Pic above is the Buddha who greets me as I leave my house each day.  

I’ve been talking with Maria about Monday’s classes, we’ll make the call around noontime if the roads look safe or not.  Please call the studio/check the studio website before you come out for Yoga class in West Concord. 

Check the events page, or subscribe to the blog updates to be sure not to miss any announcements. 

Om Shanti,  I’ll see you in class.


2 thoughts on “Buddha Sees His Shadow”

  1. Perhaps you know this poem, but your note reminded me . . .

    Shoveling Snow with Buddha

    In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
    you would never see him doing such a thing,
    tossing the dry snow over the mountain
    of his bare, round shoulder,
    his hair tied in a knot,
    a model of concentration.

    Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
    for what he does, or does not do.

    Even the season is wrong for him.
    In all his manifestations, is it not warm and slightly humid?
    Is this not implied by his serene expression,
    that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

    But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
    one shovelful at a time.
    We toss the light powder into the clear air.
    We feel the cold mist on our faces.
    And with every heave we disappear
    and become lost to each other
    in these sudden clouds of our own making,
    these fountain-bursts of snow.

    This is so much better than a sermon in church,
    I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
    This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
    and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
    I say, but he is too busy to hear me.

    He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
    as if it were the purpose of existence,
    as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
    you could back the car down easily
    and drive off into the vanities of the world
    with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.

    All morning long we work side by side,
    me with my commentary
    and he inside the generous pocket of his silence,
    until the hour is nearly noon
    and the snow is piled high all around us;
    then, I hear him speak.

    After this, he asks,
    can we go inside and play cards?

    Certainly I reply, and I will heat soem milk
    and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
    while you shuffle the deck,
    and our boots stand dripping by the door.

    Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes
    and leaning for a moment on his shovel
    before he drives the thin blade again
    deep into the glittering white snow.

    ~Billy Collins
    in Sailing Alone Around the Room

    how everything can be yoga . . .



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