May I never not be frisky
May I never not be risqué.
May my ashes, when you have them, friend,
and give them to the ocean,
leap in the froth of the waves,
still loving movement,
still ready, beyond all else,
to dance for the world.
~Mary Oliver
The act of creating is a journey unto itself, the kind of journey that requires a bit of risk, the willingness to dance with the world, and a playfulness that enlivens the spirit. Yet there is also a rhythm around creation, with limitations around time and energy that create boundaries for the creative act. And within this journey, like so many, there are as many moments of grand connection, celebration, and delight as there are moments of aggravation and even devastation.
Before I had children, I had large chunks of time to meander through the world of my mind and heart. It’s funny to realize I created no more then than I do now within the confines of family life. In fact, the limitations I live within have allowed me to create rituals that delineate my “creating time” so that rhythm dictates a kind of roadmap for me to follow. Sort of like the way Plains farmers might attach a rope to their front porch to make it from their barn to home in a blizzard, these rituals help me find my way out of the blizzard of life’s business back to the home of my creative world.
Every Sunday morning, I rise earlier than my household, don comfy sweats, heat coffee, and snuggle under my fluffy blanket and shawl in my favorite chair with my journal, a book, a gel pen, and a journal prompt. From the spot where I sit, I glimpse the sun slowly lighting the sky through my kitchen window and listen to the birds waking up. These simple rituals help me find my way into myself—to allow words to be both frisky and risqué, allow my spirit to dance on the waves of my heart.
Creation, like so many other things humans do, can seem a bit frivolous, pointless even, especially when there is so much serious and important work to focus on and do in this world. Especially for those of us who earn no income in our creative act, this sort of life’s journey can easily be undermined by other needs and opinions. I admit some days it feels as if I’m scooping up the ashes of my heart and flinging them into the wide sea.
Yet, the act of creation reminds me I’m alive and that being alive is a gift. Sometimes I think that this is the whole point of Spring—just to remind the earth that being alive is magnificent and aggravating (hello spring allergies), a journey both delightful and risky.
Anne Francy, a magnificent artist and mother of writer Suleika Jaouad, says, “I have always believed art is essential—but at the same time, a luxury. And it turns out, it’s not. It’s a way to access the universal when our personal circumstances are too difficult.” Creation as an essential act to access the universal. When the world wants to tell me to believe in productivity and performance, this idea offers me another way. Creating reminds me that there is time, the whole world’s spinning does not rest upon my doing. It’s rejuvenating and life affirming to set down the worries of tomorrow to be present for this one act today. And it reminds me there is not time, that I won’t be here forever. Much like the spring flowers that tomorrow are ash, can I live vibrantly in this one moment?
So April 1 I’ll begin a new 100 days project. I first read about this idea in Jaouad’s book Between Two Kingdoms and was inspired to embark on a 100-day journey of Haiku. It was a special opportunity that again created a kind of rhythm and ritual, encapsulating and directing creative energy. This journey is an opportunity to commit to a daily creative act/ project with the requirements that it feel exciting, be a little bit challenging, and most importantly, be sustainable. The 100 days project could be a daily walk outside observing nature, creating a photograph collection, crafting a poem or painting each day, journal one childhood memory each day, cooking new recipes, learning (or remembering) to play an instrument, or perhaps a daily time of dance or yoga movement. Jaouad announced her next project starting April 1, in light of the completion of her most recent bone marrow transplant. Truly, as her mother writes, “In these times when we don’t know how to keep going, it really helps to remember that there’s something on the other side.” Flinging ashes into the ocean, watching them dance on the waves. There is something indeed on the other side.
I haven’t committed to a specific project yet, but I am feeling called to be outside, that my project will include putting my hands and feet in soil each day. The point is not to predict where and how the journey of these 100 days will end. Instead, I am committed to be present for the daily rhythm, to yield to the frivolity and risk of the moment. It must be sustainable, so most days I may spend no more than 30 minutes.
Would you like to join me? If so, email or tag me. I will likely post on social media with the #100dayspoject and tag @Isolationjournals to give credit where it’s due. Creating community, maybe that’s the journey we can embark on together.
NEW!
CMJ Yoga Presents an Online Space for Community and Connection
Welcome friends! Starting April 3, I’ll be using the Substack platform to send you emails. Free subscribers will continue to receive a weekly email with an abridged version of my reflection. This week you’ll receive two emails—one from my current mailer format and one from the new Substack platform so you’ll have the opportunity to make sure the new mailer doesn’t end up in your spam folder. If you didn’t see this email on Saturday evening with the subject line “Your Sunday Retreat” check your promotions tab in gmail or your spam folder so you can be sure not to miss future emails. They’ll continue to arrive on Sunday mornings going forward.
To receive the full reflection and more, sign up for a paid subscription.
The paid subscription option will include the full written reflection, recorded mini-practices, discounted cost for my weekly Friday class, and other opportunities. I hope we’ll continue to connect in my new space, a landing pad for you to take a “Sunday Retreat” through contemplation, meditation, conversation, and movement; a space for us to learn together to live more authentically and joyfully.
Why the Change?
I believe it is essential for humans to find connection and peace with our individual bodies, with our communities, and with the body of the earth. This can happen through story, self-contemplation, conversation, and when we find safety, ease, and connection with our physical bodies.
I am working to cultivate an awareness of the ways that yoga has remained largely inaccessible—through the images presented in the media, through high price points, through the mindset of what it means to be “advanced,” through the ways that groups of people have been left out and made to feel unwelcome in the practice. The practice of yoga offers an opportunity to live in our essential self. This should be accessible to all. Too, it’s essential for creative work to be valued and for artists’ work exchange to be equitable. My hope is to offer work that serves you, is equitable for me, and includes options for physical and financial accessibility. Can’t pay for a subscription? Let me know. No one will be left out for financial reasons.
What Will I Offer?
A once weekly mailer, your “Sunday Retreat,” which includes a reflection and a creative prompt for contemplative conversation, and a recorded mini practice with movement and/or meditation to help you cultivate a home practice for your individual needs and exploration.
A once monthly “Dharma talk” on the last Thursday of the month. Conversations will center on a selected topic or reading to encourage active and engaged participation in the way of love and peace. Short meditations included. Talk is recorded and sent to all subscribers.
A recorded library of classes on Vimeo
Weekly live Friday morning classes (Zoom and in-person options) offered at a discount to all subscribers.
Friday Morning 9-10:30 AM Live Yoga w/ Christa
Conversation, Meditation, and Movement
In-Person in Shepherdstown, WV, or Online w/ Zoom.
Limited Spacing available in-person.
Video recording sent to all registered guests.
$15 Reserve your spot via text to 401-440-0279. Advance payment required to Venmo or Paypal.