Nobility and Humility

"Whatever comes," she said, "cannot alter one thing. If I am a princess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it.  ~ "A Little Princess", Frances Hodgson Burnett


We have had a challenging month or two. My health has gone from adequately recovering from my December cancer surgery to being in debilitating pain. I have suffered through complex neurological issues that have not only taken all my strength to muddle through, but my dignity, as well. My husband, who has always been a hard working provider for our family, has lost his career. We went from looking forward to spending an extraordinary year planning out our next steps as recent "empty nesters" to just worrying about what the next day will bring. I wait from moment to moment, terrified when, and where, my next bout of seething pain will strike. I am deeply concerned about the unpredictability of our financial situation. There are times I want to be impatient, snappish, angry, bitter, jealous and downright mean spirited. I want to smack the hands of the nurses who can't start my IV's (after three tries). I want to kick the shins of the doctors who don't meet my eyes while telling me "We just don't know" about my medical saga's answers. I am seething when I see less qualified, and less competent, people who are still working in their same positions...and who want to buy bigger houses...when I worry about how we're even going to pay to heat ours.These are not thoughts I'm particularly proud of. In fact, I'm ashamed to be such a grumpy, churlish shrew. For better or worse, I'm exhausted. I'm too worn out from pain, from worry and from fear to be concerned about the social niceties.


Yet, when I think of the woman I want to be "when I grow up", this is not she. The woman I want to imbue is not a despicable harpy. She is a noble, kind, humble, loving gentlewoman. The "fully realized" Ellen of my imagination is about as far as I can travel from my current state of resentful harridan. Somehow, I need to make this transition from one of angry terror to one of gracious acceptance. It isn't easy. If I'm not physically in pain, I'm emotionally distraught. I do realize, however, that it's up to me to rise above these present circumstances and move into being the woman I choose to be. One of my mother's favorites quotes, from St. John of the Cross, keeps coming to my mind again and again: "I am not made, or unmade, by the circumstances in my life, but by my reactions to them".  If I judge myself in this light, I am thoroughly abashed. I have allowed myself to be 'made' by the circumstances in my life...both the good and the bad. I have taken pride in areas which were really no more than good fortune. I have basked in the glory of praise. Because I allowed myself to get caught up in believing I was 'made' by the good circumstances, I know that it's no wonder that I have been 'unmade' by the poor ones. I am ashamed.  Mea culpa.


I believe that this is my chance to grow up at last.I need to let go of letting my situation dictate how I feel. I must "put the ways of childhood" behind me and move into adulthood. The inspiration for desired transformation, ironically, is from my one of my favorite children's books, "A little Princess" by Frances Hodgson Burnett. The protagonist, Sara Crewe, shows exceptional courage and strength as layer, by layer, her carefree, beautiful life is stripped away from her. She's left with nothing, quite literally. And yet, her angelic, compassionate, noble soul shines through. It doesn't matter if she's wearing the latest fashions from Paris, or the rags of a street urchin. Sara Crewe, even as a fictional character in a child's book, embodies the woman I hope to be. She is unfailingly kind. She is loving to those who are wretched to her.  She is generous with what little she has. She is altruistic, accepting, satisfied and humane. 


Therefore, I've set my goal: I want to be a princess. Not the spoiled, nasty type that one sees on "reality television"...no, I want to be a princess 'on the inside'.  I may be in pain. I may be embarrassed. I may be frightened. I may be living with an unspeakable number of unknowns. But, I can be kind. I can be loving. I can remember that if I behave in a way that shows strength, courage, gratitude, peacefulness, acceptance and joy, perhaps that will come true. As Sara Crewe pointed out: it's easy to be noble when everyone knows it. The challenge comes in creating that gentle nobility within myself that is immovable regardless of what happens to me. 


I won't be wearing a tiara. I have never owned a pair of Manolo Blahnik's. My wedding did not take place at Westminster Abbey. Yet, I can be a princess all the time. Perhaps, if I think about how a princess should behave, when confronted with adversity, it will be reminder to emulate one.

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

The world is governed more by appearance than realities so that it is fully as necessary to seem to know something as to know it. ~Daniel Webster

One of the most enjoyable pleasures I have during the sweet summer days in Maine is walking my dog, Mackenzie, into town. Mackenzie is a 125 pound long haired German Shepherd. In her own mind, she belongs in a purse, preferably carried by me wherever I would go. She loves to sleep on my bed, and in general, prefers to remain as close to me as possible. Mackenzie will bark when there is a knock on the door, but other than that, she's not particularly territorial. As long as her human Mom is with her, she's completely content. Unfortunately during our daily walks we have encountered all kinds of preconceived notions about how Mackenzie 'appears' to be: an enormous, powerful looking "police dog". We have had some very negative experiences over the years. Strangers will try to provoke her into barking, or even attacking them, by taking predatory and threatening steps towards me. (I don't believe this was the brightest action...would you really want to provoke a dog this big?). Others have growled at her, barked at her or tried to grab her tail. Still others have gone in the opposite direction: screaming in fear when they see us coming, and making a run across to the other side of the road, regardless of traffic. Mackenzie has been attacked by very small dogs, and I've been yelled at by these petite Cujo's owners to 'call my dog off' when their own are hanging from her throat. During these moments of dog walking drama, both my dog and I have learned to roll our eyes, to try to ignore the ignorance of the people who don't understand us. I have had my feelings hurt when I've heard one person remark to another; "What a stupid, irresponsible woman for owning such a dangerous beast!".

The fact is, Mackenzie is an incredibly gentle dog. She's a bit of a diva, and likes her food "just so". But, other than that, she is a remarkably loving, exceptionally intelligent and very well meaning dog. She prefers my own company to that of others, but she likes meeting new people, and new dogs, too. No matter how pretty her collar is, how well groomed I've combed her out and how well she listens to me, Mackenzie will always be judged by people by her appearance. She will not be judged by her kind eyes or how well she responds to my commands. Mackenzie will be perceived as vicious, aggressive and combative, simply because of her breed. People have seen "Cops" on television, and think all German Shepherds are ready to strike at a moment's notice. The irony? Most police dogs are also incredibly well behaved. They have a deeply connected relationship with their handler, and usually live with his family. Like "Helping" dogs, they are trained to do a job when they are 'working', and they understand the difference between being at work with their police officer handler, and being at home with his family....chasing a ball with the officer's children after hours.

Because of my experience with my dog, I've learned to move away from judging people, situations or experiences based upon appearances. It's my own humble opinion that all of us, not just those who are afraid of big dogs, take one look at a scene, and make a snap decision as to how we will place this scenario in our level of thought. Most people tend to subconsciously categorize others as soon as they meet them. We all have internal sensors for an evolutionary reason: to stay safe! If those internal 'something's not right' meters sound off in our minds, we usually snap to action in terms of self-preservation. It happens even before we're aware of it. On the other hand, there are times we make rash decisions about people when we don't have all the facts, or we don't give another person a chance. We may walk away from a potentially wonderful friendship because of the way that person looks, or where they live, or what their religious beliefs may be. We may limit our social circle to only people who are 'just like us'. In the long run, we may stay extremely safe. Or, we may find that those people, whose appearances seemed to be similar to our own, couldn't be further from being like-minded, or even kind- hearted. We may base a friendship strictly on appearances, but for the wrong reasons...a person may have "seemed" to have everything in common with us, may even have been attractive and interesting. But, after we get to know them, or worse, been hurt by them, we come to discover that agreeable appearances aren't necessarily the best way to choose a friend.

It's my own personal opinion that we need to look beyond mere appearances, and look into the heart of another person as we are getting to know them. We may discover that they're simply not as lovely on the inside as they are on the out. Or, we may just find that someone who appears to be our polar opposite is, in all actuality, a soul mate of a friend. We need to look past age, height and other defining features, and get to the meat of that individual's beliefs. Additionally, it's fabulous to have friends who have very different backgrounds,and it's delightful to learn about other cultures. My daughter's best friends are Indian (and) Egyptian and Korean. The three of them have more fun together than any girls I've ever met. Their hearts beat in unison. And yet, they couldn't come from three more different parts of the world. Their friendships have been a tremendous joy to all three families, and we've all been enriched by the love they share. Could Caroline have made friends with other New England girls? Of course...and she has. But, her soul sisters happen to be originally from Asia and the Middle East. My most recent friends, in my own life, are all considerably older than I am. I have learned that having friends, closer in age to my late grandmother than myself, is a beautiful experience. They have shared so much wisdom with me, and I continually pinch myself to remind myself that these wonderful ladies would be interested my limited experience.I feel honored to have them call me "friend".

My entreaty to Preppy Yogini readers is this: give everyone, including German Shepherds, a chance. Don't dismiss a friendship because someone is different from you, and don't get too excited about someone who 'appears' to be your personal twin. Take time. Slow down. Get to know people before making a conclusion. Even then, keep an open mind and an open heart. You may find yourself in the midst of a beautiful friendship....and one you never imagined would be possible. As Charles Kettering wrote, " The open minded see the truth in things; the narrow minded see the differences."

Prayer

“In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart.” ~ Mahatma Ghandi

Today, May 6th, 2010, is this year's National Day of Prayer. This beautiful idea of collective harmony, thoughtful introspection and united intent has become a hot button political issue. The current administration feels strongly in the separation of Church and State and will not condone public prayer at the White House. The far right Evangelic movement believes this separation is detrimental to our very salvation. But for the multitudes of us whose beliefs lie in the middle area, it's a day of confusion. If we're not practicing this on a national level, does it still 'count'? If we're not praying within a the confines of a mega-church, or by the rule book of one particular brand of faith, are we not 'invited' to pray also? If I take part in the National Day of Prayer (or choose not to participate), am I buying into one particular political belief system?

Webster's Dictionary defines prayer as: "An address to the Divine in word or thought". An alternate definition is given as "an earnest wish or request." Personally, I'm completely in agreement with the first definition. Regardless of one's religious leanings, time spent quietly in contemplation and conversation with God is a form of prayer. We do not need to speak. We do not need to recite formulaic systems to 'get prayer done right', although those very same formulas may be exceedingly helpful in bringing our hearts and minds to the "right place"...as a jumping off point for personal prayer to commence. As an Episcopalian, I find enormous comfort in the Book of Common Prayer. I find the Daily Office to be helpful, restorative and calming of my emotions. It's a powerful feeling to know that I can walk into any Anglican church, anywhere in the world, and find the service to be the same...with the same litany, the same ideas and the same cadence. Yet, I've found prayers that speak to my heart from a variety of traditions; Buddhist, Native American, Jewish and those of some Catholic saints. Are these prayers, written in a tradition different than my own but still magnificent, less efficacious?

My enormous discomfort comes when people try to push their prayer beliefs onto my own personal faith. On one hand, there are those who think I'm a fool for wasting my time and energy in prayer. They believe I can better use my talents and gifts to better the world around me using my own sense of empowerment. These people feel that prayer is, at best, a red herring and, at worst, sheer stupidity and counter to intellectual prowess. On the other hand, there are people who believe that my teaching Yoga means I am not 'really' a Christian. Additionally, these folks believe that even the hint of another tradition, no matter how exquisitely written or composed, is inherently evil...that no beauty can come from a wisdom that is not their own. The concept of personal prayer is so frayed at both edges that the entire concept unravels in an ugly, discordant manner.

As easy as it would be simply give up on prayer, acknowledging that no matter what I do, I'll be wrong, I find myself drawn even more to having a heart for a strong prayer life. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what the news programs have to say about both extremes. It is not important who tells me I'm absolutely wrong. Being affirmed as being 'in the right' is just as meaningless. The fact is, no amount of corporate opinion carries weight. Prayer is personal. It is, as Webster's defines, "An address to the Divine in word or thought". Prayer is my own quiet connection to God. It's not a marketing list or a wish list for Santa Claus. It's not a time to make deals (as in "God, if you let me pass this test, I will always be a good person..."). It's not a catalogue of set words that must be said in a specific order, or it's "wrong". Prayer is really nobody's business but your own. It's a time of solemnity, entreaty, supplication, gratitude, compassion, kindness and communion. It's a connection between our own meager, fallible selves and an infinitely loving and patient God. Prayer can give us strength, temper our misunderstandings, fill us with renewed energy for our tasks and remind us to be humble when we fill with pride. Prayer is distinctive and direct for each person. Prayer is what the individual believes she needs most...and what she needs most to give.

So, if prayer is so private, why a National Day of Prayer? What's so important about it? In my own heart, this holiday shouldn't be about political agendas, but a simple reminder that we share a planet, that we want, as a group, what's best for everyone and that we hope for the unparalleled point of unity to come into each of our lives. It's a chance to have a moment to trust in a unified consciousness that's greater than each of us individually. It's a moment to join together in thankfulness, respect and hope.

What is my own prayer for today? That I will be a better listener...that my own prayers will not include a list of grievances, wrongs, wish list items or rambling diatribes about myself. Rather, I hope to find that small, quiet place in my heart and mind not to speak but to hear and pay attention more closely.

The K Factor

Synonyms for Klutz: 1. clumsy, ungraceful, ungainly, lumbering, lubberly. 2. unhandy, unskillful, maladroit, inexpert, bungling, bumbling, heavy-handed, inept.

There are skills I'm actually quite proud to possess. I'm pleased that, although I happen to be tone deaf, I can read music very well. I'm happy with my ability to read intricate and complex material, and to derive meaning from it. I'm awfully glad I'm learning how to balance the check book. It feels superb to have the ability to speak in several other languages...even if it's only conversational phrases. I can bake bread from scratch, teach a large dog to eat delicately from a fork and also have perfect recall of every film I've seen since I went to Mary Poppins. I'm not completely inefficient in the way I run my home, or lax in the I brought up my children. I hope that I'm a good friend, a loving mother and a kind daughter. I can dozens of hats in my life and feel incredibly blessed wearing any of them. I am confident I can meet most challenges with bravery. However, when it comes to walking a flight of stairs or trying to hit a moving ball, I'm a lost cause.

I happen to be a Klutz...capital K, not small. My ability to injure myself and those around me is legendary. My method of seeking out the one item to trip over in a room is without failure. My prowess at dropping my tray so often, in my college's cafeteria, was so adept that dropping any tray became known as an Ellen. There is no glass I cannot break, no surface I can't bump into. I am the least coordinated person I have ever met. When I play tennis, people at neighboring courts take cover.When I'm pulling out the garage, I just feel my husband's anxiety in fear that I just might take off another mirror. I'm one of the only people I've ever met that manages to trip going UP the stairs with alarming regularity. When I was in high school, I had a gym teacher pull me aside and ask me to confide in her why I was so bruised. She refused to take "I'm a klutz" for an answer and begged me to be honest if someone was mistreating me. Once she saw my attempt to play soccer, however, she no longer worried that I was in an abusive home. She saw me fall over when there was no one near me. Not even the ball.

As a yoga teacher, I find myself wrestling with my clumsy nature every day. Yet, while I'm practicing yoga, I seem to have an effortless way of moving. It's just off the mat that I struggle. Because this lack of coordination has plagued me my whole life, I've gotten used to being teased about it. I could laugh when my daughter, then at age 8, could ski backwards in front of me, trying to encourage me to get off the baby hill. I could grin the fifth time I fell stepping out of my car....in less than a week. I could even get a good natured chuckle over the times I'd simply drop dinner, not only splattering it all over the kitchen, but smashing my dishes to bits. That said, there times that I've felt truly awful to be such a drain on those around me because of my propensity towards disaster. I felt badly for my teenagers when I've face planted trying to get into bleachers at hockey rinks. I could my husband's ire when I backed through the garage door...and his complete frustration with me over it. I'm sure my mother constantly had to explain to other children why softball was simply not my sport. I've born the utter disgust of people who been forced to play on a team I was on, or to see me humiliate myself in any number of ways. I always seem to find new ones....just to keep life interesting. No one could have predicted that I'd hit my head with a falling iron, as reached down to pick up a shirt that had fallen.

When people are patient with me about my obvious shortcoming, I am eternally grateful. When someone sees me fall, and they offer a hand, rather than stepping over me, I feel slightly less horrified. When, instead of laughing, someone actually asks if I need stitches, I feel touched by their kindness. Why? Because it happens so rarely. As a clumsy person, I am deeply aware of my faults. I seem to find no end to the damage I can inflict. So, when someone is patient, understanding and caring towards me, it comes as a surprise...and a welcome one. I'm always convinced that my accidentally flinging my phone across the room, and hitting someone with it, is going to make enemies for me. My blushing and stammering generally don't help matters much. The kindness that I've been shown, by those who have been hit in the head with said cell phone, is both embarrassing and yet, comforting.

I've learned, as a result of my challenges just standing upright, to look past the challenges other people face. I try to look past the obvious faults and into the heart of the person standing before me. My experience in embarrassment has been life lesson in looking into the way people wish they could be. It is in my own heart to look for the home run a person wishes she could hit or the casual way of giving a speech he hoped he possessed. I try very hard to look past the errors, the fear, the nervousness and the defense mechanisms. I try, for those I meet and those I care about, to see them as their best possible selves. Why? I've been there...curled up at the bottom of the stairs, just hoping no one will notice my misstep. It's with that sense of humility that I try to envision the successes, not the failures, of those around me.

I am still a wretched driver. I constantly worry about slipping on the ice..or on the non-ice surfaces. But, I also try to look past other people's crashes...and into where they hope they will go. Just like my clumsiness, I can't promise that I'll be perfect in my efforts...but I can try.