Sunday, January 21, 2018

Me Too Aftermath....

Firstly: I will say one thing the older I get the less I give a fuck about social norms and the more my own flesh gets gnarly and mouthy:
It seems my body is a field renewing itself even as it composts towards death. My body is the land of my politics, the oasis, that even amidst all the jarring abrasions it has experienced and witnessed it still gets out of the bed in the morning, ready to fight for love on all fronts. My carcass has friends, it knows how to sniff out the sweet folks, the shy, bright, wild ones and bring them on in, it also knows how to rip fork through violence, hatred, oppression and to protect and stand up for love. My dad, in all his wily ways, functional and dysfunctional gave me this: "girl, you watch out for yourself and the ones you love, don't back down", and that is why he taught me how to box as a little girl, how to ride a motorcycle at 11 yrs old, how to drive on a logging road, and how animals and earth are our friends. 
I think my kinfolk would be proud of me, I often feel them standing behind me, holding me up when I feel scared and vulnerable and cheering me on when I step into the ring, in my own way, sometimes howling other times quiet. 
We are beasts, glorious beasts if we allow ourselves to be.



In the aftermath and ongoing unraveling of Me Too let us stand together in a honest place, truth tell, call out, be accountable, strive for compassion and justice, and move forward strong, united!

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Pony Up folks...if you want to celebrate yoga, AND do a socially aware, honest, inclusive YTT this is the training for you. I do not say this simply because I created it, I say it because I believe it. Rizze YTT is unique and geared towards individuals who want to embrace a rich life that is respectful, creative and connected to the wide world.
RIZZE Yoga Teacher Training blends traditional yoga asana and philosophy teachings with somatic integration and embodiment. The multi-style training is open to certified teachers, aspiring teachers and students who wish to deepen their practice and explore yoga through the inner wisdom of their bodies.
Learn to teach from a place of authenticity, self-awareness and attunement. Move into the world with compassion and balance.
The Rizze Yoga Immersion Program is a 200-hour Yoga Alliance Certified teacher training.
Early bird registration deadline Aug 31st. Free Yoga Asana text* and GST waived.
*valued at $100
For more info and to view the 2015/16 Rizze teaching collective.
www.rizzeyoga.com
Dates/Times:
Oct 23–25 Nov 20–22 Dec 18–20 Jan 22–24
Feb 19–21 March 18–20 April 23–25 May 27–29
Friday 6–9pm Saturday 9am–6pm Sunday 12–6pm

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Gypsy Dreams
I wake into the dark; it has been a long night of dreams and movement. My body aches from a ghost memory of a severe accident and the accumulation of years of hard physical work. Waking is a gift, because I can begin to move, and the pain in my body will slowly unravel over the hours of yoga, cycling, dish washing and countless other daily rituals.
Last night I had one of those cries, the ones that ripple endless into every corner of my skin, my sternum undulates and spasms, my breath raw.  It is a relief to drop into this river of vulnerability, to let go into the emptiness of the uncertainty of my own life.
When I was younger, and streaming through the days like a wild horse, keeping the kids fed, working, university, gardens, renovations, tussling with concepts of love, politics, family, community, I really had very little inclination to slow down the whirling list of responsibilities that I felt pressured to feed. I rode life like a wild stallion, bareback, often careless and insensitive to myself, other people and the quality of precious fragility life carried. I never thought about the fact that one day I would live differently, that my children would grow up and leave home, that I would grow into an elder, that my body might not be invincible, that I could actually feel physical pain that sometimes dropped me to my knees in tears and frustration. If I had known any of this, perhaps I might have been softer with myself, put a saddle on that horse now and again and sauntered through the pasture. Most importantly perhaps I would have realized that I did not need to do it all, that I could ask for help, that I could let go and know it was going to be alright.
I have lived a wondrous life, it is almost unimaginable to me the countless experiences I have been offered. I look at the scope of relationships and love that are a story inside of me that is worth telling and I know without a doubt that in the deck of life I was given a mitt full of aces.
I am so thankful, and within this graciousness I also have a river of tears in me that sometimes need to rise and break through my skin.  It is through this grief that I can give my fear some room to shed it’s leathery pelt and soften. Sitting with a body that grows older, a body that can feel intense debilitating pain as well as a body that has such a vivid, aching memory of holding my offspring in my arms and nursing them, caring for them with the wildest love imaginable and knowing that this phase of my life is over forever can feel extremely intense.
My future has no map ! This is freeing and also baffling at times. I have no idea where I will end up, I have nothing materially to tie me to anyplace, and everything I own is dispensable in a wink, I can simply put it back in the alley where most of it came from.
I feel like a pilgrim, perhaps the lineage of my immigrant gypsy ancestors is strong in my body memory. Dancing away, cackling raucously and rubbing their gnarled palms together with glee waiting for me to pull up stakes and just hit the road.
I truly do not know my fate, I never dreamed it would be like this, I mean I actually thought I would “settle down” with some loved one and be a mom and work and have the house with the accompanying accoutrements and so forth.

Hummm, seemed like I skipped that stop and ended up riding the rouge train, the one, that steams its way into the back woods, the forests where wolves and coyotes slink, and fires still burn long into the night, the fleshy voices calling to me, bringing me back to the folks of my birthright, those gold toothed hags I so loved when I was a girl. There is no sure thing, no planned future, life unravels into its own mystery, and that enigma is so dark that no one can peer into it, all I can do it wrap my babushka around my head and be ready to hop that train when it roars into town.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Growing Older
It is quite amazing to grow older, to grow up perhaps; to realise that life is a fast ride, in a faster car. I do not think I quite got it until I truly began to see the wearing of life on my face and body; how humanness has a far more tenacious quality of beauty as it draws closer to the edge of disappearing. When I see photos of myself as a middle aged female, I am both bemused and somehow relieved.
            The beauty myth of my youth was a tough, sharp path that I never figured out. As much as I sometimes strove to find it, to fit into a system of socialized attractiveness also freaked me out and felt harmful and dishonest.  It also often hurt physically to put energy and time into the crafting of “woman.”
             I wore these ridiculous shoes once, tall heels, uncomfortable. I remember the pain of trying to walk, and how damaged my ankles felt.  I could never put them on again.  It hurt that much. Why did I do such a thing?  I wanted something.  I was grasping for some attention, some validation of my external worth.  Getting old is a hoot. 
            I have tons of wrinkles from endless non-sunscreened days in the garden and swimming.  I have a few glorious silver strands rocking my bean, my pubis (as in the basement) are silver foxing it big time....maybe because there is not as much air play in the lower quadrant.  None the less...it is fun, and silly to get old.
            There is playfulness to not giving a rat's ass about what anyone thinks of my fashion sense or that I continually forget to brush my knotty nest of hair.  I just feel better, less contracted, more transparent, feistier, more open, friendly, curious about the world and every nuance of her magnificence. 
            And then there are people as well: good hearted humans out there to notice and to engage with.  As I grow older I feel even less inclined to see the "other" and instead, to just love them, no big deal; to just care, and engage as I can.
            When I was a young, struggling woman I spent a lot of time looking in the mirror attempting to figure out if I was valuable and acceptable.  Jezzz....if I could take that time back and use it to dance more, to write poems, to kiss and cuddle with reckless abandon, well…I sure the hell would.

            Yet the past has come to pass...and right now it’s good, truly good, kind of rank and ripe, seasoned, gnarly and willing to tear a good chunk of life right of the backside of existence. Whatever time I have left I sure the hell am not going to be dicking the dog and lusting at the fountain of lost youth that I did not even really understand. I am going hitch up my wool socks and ride my pony into the sunset, silver locks flying.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Journeying With Eagles

Dreams all night of flying  eagles, and huge eagle heads looking deeply into my eyes, searching into me, finding me, and holding me with their fierce love and intention. Holding me until I would meet their steady one eyed stare. Amazed, fearful and enraptured,  I met their gaze and was then freed to fly. Huge black wings, dripping with tense freedom. Is this not the truth? To free myself there is that moment, ripping away from what I grip, the rigid self-imposed fist and then the fall, dank, weightless, trembling, equally terrifying and exciting.
I did not rest last night, I journeyed, over and over with these winged creatura's, searing the sky, silently.
Waking tousled with sleeplessness I had the joy of connecting with my dear one Kikki, cuddled like a wolf cub on the back porch, her bed of beauty under the stars. In her wisdom and grace she offered me the Utube link below.
Who knows who we are in-between this world and all the other's? Not I, I am so out of control of the worlds around and in me.
May I be courageous enough to meet them when then arise.
Be well beauties, love fierce, no one can take that away from you. Until we meet in this world or another.

http://youtu.be/BGpzGu9Yp6Y