Transition: Living in the in between

(c) Shelley Hainer, Cranberry Bog, Nantucket, MA

Hypothesis: Transition weaves the fabric of our lives

Think concept: concentric circles. Now. Think practical: measuring cups. Each fit into each other, collapse and expand, expand and collapse. The conceptual and the practical. The global, or microcosmic, the grandiose, or intimate.

Even right there in that thought process there is a great big leap, a transition. The words themselves explain the ideas, and as read, transition off the page into the mind of understanding.

Each idea alive in the mind with a picture, sensation, reference point by association, concludes its meaning. Vacillate between, in that in between, between the large and the small. There is that blink of being neither here, nor there.  That space in between, sense it?

We transition from here to there, there to here, constantly, all day long, every single moment is a transition into the next.

 

(c) Shelley Hainer, Jardin Luxembourg, Paris

Choose any event.  A move to a new house:  A move out of a chair. Choose any action. A turn at the corner: A turn of the head. Choose any milestone. A graduation from college: An exhalation of breath. Yes, big life transitions. Yes. small momentary transitions.

Your last exhalation one day will mark a milestone, a transition out of  life. Inhalation, each one, an invigoration of  life as the breath of your life transitions in. Intimate, microcosmic, life sustained through osmosis. Transition of breath. We never think of it. Not much. It works without thought, thankfully. Our exhalation, too, relaxes our system a transition from holding on, a yielding of tension.

We move out of a chair without thinking. We dash. We jump up, dash and exhale. We turn our head this way and that. Without thought, recognition or consideration. We rely on millions of transitions all day long without thought, without consideration. We take our transitions for granted. Don’t we?

Transition perspective.

(c)  Shelley Hainer, Avignon, France

A bigger cup holds a stack of cups that fit together, the widest concentric circles embraces all others.  Life’s milestones offer bouquets of firsts:  home, career, travel, friendships, relationships, all transitions, before and after, with and without.   Life events usher transitions.

Transition is in the details. The bigger picture is really made of many, many, clusters of transition moments, probably millions. Transitions compose life. Living in that in between where we exchange one moment for the next, we sense the continuity of an eternal now that appears as a blink outside of time.  That snap of in between threads the loom of moments that we weave as the fabric of our day.  Each moment is a building block in the illusion of time, where stories are born for our telling.

What happens when we rest in the in between? In the nucleus of any transitioning moment awaits the rich wonder and awe inspired pleasure of simply being present to all that is.

Surf Board

Anyone ride the subway? Anyone on a Co-op Board?

Learn to surf , keep balanced, the difference between falling down, or being pushed over, or being a push over, or what?  Certainly one might draw up a hypothesis this is to that, as that is to this?

The ever relentless bombardment of information comes at us like meteor showers.  Thank god thoughts are not solid.   Vibration management taxes me enough. Even when physically anchored and alert in open-heart-ed-open-mind-ed state, when among the great unsavory characters that we all run into on a regular basis, how to stay balanced?   Like a pot hole we avoid sometimes we fall in, jump in, or get a push.  Integrity is an upstanding pole.

 

The sound of the oceans soothes, heals, lulls, quiets, through its sound, the rhythm is a magic elixir. It stirs waters locked in our tissue, subliminally, returns us to sea. We sink into our nature, pull and push with the sound, it erupts inside us through mimicry.  When by the sea we merge through our listening. Receive sound through air and bone conduction, we receive rhythm in our bones, our body fluids regulate with sea spray, our senses ignite, that flame calmed by the inner pull to bigger nature. We are held.  Water is a great healer. An element of genius, of love, it flows, it binds.

Underfoot solid ground meets us. Do we allow its support? Wobbly on your own two feet? How are those shoulders? Are they climbing to your ear lobes? Do you trust the ground? What does that feel like to meet the ground, receive its support, carry you step by step in space?

Energy  blurts its truth as we connect with the ground, a way to really acquaint with harmony in the body. We surf our energies, too, more than anything!

 

The pulse of existence itself requires the ability to surf. In the Spanda Karakas, a sacred text, it speaks of the pulse of existence, the spanda, the ability to surf the wave of existence. Macro and micro, ebb and flow, only stand up in the subway after the train stops. Or, surf on purpose: stand free form, knees bent, a pole handy if you need it, and surf from stop to stop. Play with your balance, weight, your long limbs as levers.  All this is great solo practice, because you are alone, no one has to know. Now, surf a co-op Board? Now we talk with people, an entirely different equation.

Not everyone is friendly, have you noticed? Maybe that’s you.  You’re the not friendly one. Oh!  I didn’t realize that till now. I thought we were friends. Hmmm. How to stay in balance now? Surf a friendship, perceptions, beliefs, and faith?  Or, just know who on the Co-op Board is fixed and trust my authentic self?  Yes, that’s the way.  There are days of easy surfing with friends and colleagues, neighbors and family when the sun is always shining and surf’s up. I’m never bored!

Life it takes up all my time.  How lucky to surf through all the waves of existence in the learning immersion experience of living.

 

 

(c) All photos taken by Shelley Hainer 2015 Barra de Navidad, Mexico, Sensory Awareness Foundation Retreat with colleagues Debra Kinninger, Judith Gomez de Leon , Andre and Guataloupe

Back in the Saddle

 

         “Life is a balancing act”

Holiday hiatus over, I return to cycle class with enthusiasm. Low and behold, by late in the day, my psoas muscle, left side, had pulled.  It hurt, as did my lower back.  What to do? Yes, ibuprofen please. Don’t know about you. My tolerance for physical pain is null.

During cycle I focus on posture. Breath and posture, relaxation and aerobics combine for a dynamic 30, 45, 60, or 90 minute class.  With focus on breath and posture during a workout I practice on connecting to be in touch with working muscles. In particular, core muscles, deep abdominal connection, engaged, in order to keep the neck, and shoulders from gripping.

Surprised to be achy-sore, I soaked in an arnica bath. I did my gentle hydro-therapy-series of stretches, to ease the area and relieve the ache.  Yes, I exercise while bathing. Degas would have a field day! The bath helped, but still not better in the morning.  Rest, more ibuprofen and more gentle stretching to release the psoas, release the ache, yield, and allow gravity to support. I decided to write about getting back in the saddle at the start of the year, especially when encountering a difficulty right out of the gate.  Exposure on the trail of process, not result. It’s been my reluctance to share when I fall out of the saddle so I thought to take it on and examine what happened.

It’s then that I remembered getting tripped up.

Have you noticed, too, that the sidewalks in New York City are rough edged, uneven surfaces, in some cases too easy to catch a shoe? There I was. Walking, and carrying packages, not looking at my phone, my attention was on walking, not off in a dream cloud, thought list, or future imagination.  Yet! My foot hit an edge. I lunged forward in that instant, yikes! The time warp moment of NOW busts open — mind moving faster than the body. Body automatically responsive. I righted myself without a fall – even as I imagined how, smack, my face would hit the pavement. I jerked to right myself. As I stood there to recover, I wait for my breath to calm, put my hand on my chest for comfort. I feel the tightness in my neck and the torque through the density of my left side. The trauma of the moment, embarrassing, deflating, humbling, and filled with gratitude.  I didn’t fall.

The psoas teaches once again. I know it’s there, profound, supportive, and mobilizing. It brings deep understanding of how the mind-body-heart balance, re-balances, co-operates, and organizes our awareness to wake up in the moment. Even when I think I’m wakeful because I practice, I get tripped. There, you see how it happens back in the saddle, again.  Engage and connect. It’s the process not the result. The little moments of a life collect to tell a story. In those little moments is where we are alive.

 

 

 

Back Through

The psoas not only lifts legs, supports the lumbar

spine; it interdigitates, as a gesture of hands

that clasp the body engine’s driving force.

From that center of architectural vortex, the

strength of twitch fibers fix, like a sailor’s grip.

One end knots along spine tuberosities.

Muscle belly navigates obliquely, crosses dense

midland midriff, lands on the longest bone.

So as to understand the genealogical baton

embodied, dig deep into tissue. Psoas may

contain encrypted secrets. Since this endroit

lies deep, it makes sense neural ganglia

nestle near, as a repository of pre‑verbal

impressions, a rapture that awakens, beneath

the skin. Where what lies buried, untouched

till now, awaits remembering. At the foot of

beginnings digits tread, maneuvering

with mastery, gentle pressure, timed, precise;

suppleness restores. The old rope freshly

recommits to work, even as it anchors it tugs

ancestral nuggets like notes on a scale

hoisting consciousness stowed at the origin.

As fingers strum, psoas sings a song of daughters.

What comes before daughter?

“Mother as daughter”, answers muscle sinew.

And beyond? “Grandmother as daughter,”

And further? “A grandmother’s mother as new born”,

gasps breath as body salts crystalized.

And so, as psoas connects to psoas,

as to love all woman who gave birth to me, I

know them by the simple desire to stand up

straight and let go of an aching back.

 

 

 

 

Basic ABC

Le Jardin du Luxembourg, Paris, France (c) shainer 1992

ABC to the first, second and third power:

ABC align breath connect in any posture every moment all the time.

ABC authentic being brings catharsis

ABC Ask, be brave and curious

Gravity works. Rest, assured, in your bones, allow muscle to lengthen, twitch less. Work as required as needed rather than clenched, and clench more.

The body as an ear, listens through air and bone conduction. Isn’t that why a scratch on the blackboard with a finger nail sends shrill chills, edgy, annoying, nearly painful? Give me a good percussive beat, to tap my feet, celebrate a thumping heart.

Alignment of long bones that bend at joints makes walking, sitting, standing and laying down, our basic four postures. Yeah! Do it. Stand. Sit. Lay supine. Walk.

Our breath is ours. Implicit with life. Our life force that comes and goes in necessary amounts, granted for our bodies’ use, nourishment of gaseous exchange to fuel ourselves on the human plane.

We are always connected. Thankfully our breath need not be attended to in order to remain obedient to our life. Go ahead hold your breath. Turn blue. Gasp!

Align, breath and connect is happening with or without your attention. What happens when you give notice, observe and feel yourself awake and alive inside your living process? Drop down from the castle between your ears, experience into the body, “in this very fathom- long body.”

Rich with information, connection to our experience holds the KEY (kinetic energy experience that you say yes to) to locks  and switches of  holding, tension, contraction and limit.

More than a concept, these ABC tools, practical, easy and innate, restore well-being as you go, on the go, everywhere, all the time and now.  You have everything you need to begin, you are the equipment, you are the experiment, you are the experience.

Place your hand on your heart.  Feel your hand rest on your chest. Hand rises and falls with your breath. Quiet down. Feel the pulse in your palm, the beat in your chest. Feel your heart through your hand. Align, Breath, Connect to authentic being which brings catharsis. Feel yourself relax. Ask, be brave and curious.

How is life right now?