The things I can't live without...

Love,

Breath,

Food and Water,

A connection to source,

and now, me sweet Micah.

Why is it that we don't really appreciate things until they are gone or almost gone? I was thinking about this concept quite a bit today. We place more value on things when they are scarce. We value our income more in a recession, heat when the furnace is broken, breathing when air quality is poor, food after fasting, and spirituality when we have allowed the demands of life to take precedence. It is a privilege of mine daily to take a moment just to acknowledge and value my breath, without which I would not be alive and experience what I do.  This acknowledgement of breath connects me to the essence of life and divine creator which grants me daily breath. When I get caught up in the complexities of life, which I so often do, it is that sacred moment I step back and realize what matters most of all. The true essence of who we really are is always there.

This past week we went for about 5 days without a working furnace. A little control panel came and saved the day on Wed.  I appreciate warmth.

When I lived in NYC I learned to really appreciate any sunshine I could get, in the midst of all the buildings.

And after 31 years of being single, I appreciate the sweet kisses of my husband.

 I have so much, I am richly blessed.

Faith

This weekend I was reminded again of the power of God, through his prophet, disciples, and witnesses. The Brother of Jared had the faith that I aspire to have someday. He also knew the Lord's power looked "small unto the understanding of man." (Ether 5:3) The world can never teach what the spirit can. In 8-10 hours of conference there was more truth shared than an entire lifetime of teachings that the world could offer. It is amazing what the lord offers us for hope in these latter days. I am blessed. 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

I was fascinated with the first line of "The tale of two cities", but I'll be candid, that was about as far as my investigation went. I'm pretty sure I appreciated it as much as cliff notes allowed me too, but it wasn't my favorite read as a sophmore in highschool. Someday I will revisit it and read thoroughly.

However I can't think of any better way to descride this week than that. It has been a week of extremes: summer to winter weather, a huge tree to no tree in our yard, little work to lots of work, clean house to AHHH!, hot house to chilly house, white walls to painted walls, and finally but not least a/c to heat to NO furnace. All these changes are good I'm sure, but sometimes as I go through them, I am wondering while they all happen at once? Does anyone have this figured out, why life is peaceful and then everything goes wrong at once? Ok, not everything, thats an exaggeration, I still have my saviors love, my cute hubbie, and the things that matter most! But really what is the dealio?

Let me give you a sample: on Monday I was cleaning the kitchen and moving around a few things in the fridge. I picked up the bottle of Homemade spaghetti sauce that I had simmered for 12 hours and...

Not only did it get the floor, but every other nook and cranny in the surrounding area including my pants. Gross, it reminded me of when I threw up on a girl sitting in front of me in 2nd grade. Poor girl.  

That was repaired quickly but Tuesday brought it's own mass destruction. Micah has been excited to get rid of our Box Elder tree for sometime, and with next week as pick-up week, he couldn't miss the opportunity. And it's a good thing he did when he did given that the 85 degree temp on tuesday dropped to mid 40's on wednesday.  

This change in temperature was all ok, as it gave me the opportunity on Wednesday to finally paint the hallway as I have wanted to for some time.

Before

And After... there was lots and lots of corners to work around!

The problem came in when cooling temperatures required the furnace.  Micah turned it on, but then it stopped coming on, and temperatures slowly dropped. That means aside from the warmth of the cookie oven, cold, cold, cold!

It wouldn't be so bad except Micah has the busiest week at work given he works at the Ticket office at the LDS conference center. He doesn't have lots of extra time to repair a furnace with conference this weekend. I have been known to be able to spend lots of time outside of the house for the most part, but this week I've had significantly less yoga classes to teach, only 5, and I simply don't find bountiful all that exciting. So while Micah is busy away from home at work, I am shivering in a lonely house with little work. I'm not all that pathetic though, I did spend 5 hours at the Yoga studio this morning, teaching and taking class, basking in warmth of a heater that works and a body that moves! 

So, it was the best of times, and the worst of times. But I have a feeling things will only get better, and worse...

My 'ode' to yoga...

Lately I have been pondering my love and loyalty to practicing and teaching yoga over the last 7-8 years.  Why do I love it so? Because it first loved me? From the very first yoga class I developed an uncanny attraction to yoga. While yoga is not a physical being that has the ability to love, it allowed me to give something back to myself.  It wasn't like any other exercise class I had ever been in, it didn't matter if I got the pose just right, and it didn't matter if I didn't look like my neighbor.  All that seemed to matter was that I honored me, honored my abilities, honored my individuality, and honored my body. After leaving yoga class, I found that I always slept better that night, that I felt more calm and peaceful. For the first time, exercise took on love rather than drudgery or punishment.  Comparing or judging yourself was strongly discouraged in yoga class, and no real end result was necessary to attain.  It became more than exercise to me, it became a practice of unconditional love. It helped peal away the layers of hurt, insecurity, fear, doubt.  In many ways aside from the Gospel, it was the first thing in my life I have ever REALLY committed to.

The commitment to yoga preceded many other commitments in my life: recommitment to my savior, a commitment to happiness, a commitment to a life of love instead of fear, a commitment to following passions, a commitment to my husband, and a commitment to living life to it's fullest. 

My favorite teacher, Alan Finger, who has taught yoga and meditation for over 40 years often gets the question "why practice yoga?" His answer is always the same,'because it allows YOU to become who YOU really are.'  I have always loved his response and likened it to my own situation. Today as I listened to meditation CD I was reminded again of this. But today the works took on a whole new meaning. Becoming who 'I' really am, does not mean becoming like my neighbor, or my sister, or my friend, or my yoga teacher. Becoming who 'I' really am is becoming the best 'Connie.'  Somewhere in the tumult of life I have given in to the temptation to compare myself with those around me. As I have done this I have unfairly compared my weaknesses with other's strengths. As I have looked at my environment I have seen only what I lack, or where I am deficient. With only looking at the many things I am not doing, I have overlooked all the things I do, and can do. It has brought me down to a place of insurmountable deficiencies, and feeling alone in a pit in which I can't crawl out. Last night as the wind swept through the trees and our home, the never-ending instability of the weather mirrored the instability of my heart. For a moment I felt me feeble heart had ceased.  I felt paralyzed with fear, with apprehension, with doubt, and uncertainty. It became so overwhelming I couldn't sleep or rest. I applied my yoga techniques to calm the mind, but nothing seemed to really help. I didn't fall asleep for several hours and when I did, my mind still raced with vivid dreams.

This morning as I once again revisited Alan's response 'yoga helps you become the person you really are,' I finally realized that I don't have to become anyone else. I don't have to waste time and precious energy trying to become another person that I am not. God knows me and loves me for who I am, not my neighbor. I realized that in addition to all the wonderful gifts of yoga, that it has also helped me to see things more clearly, to perceive and understand things as they really are. It clears the maya (illusion) and taps us into our abundance and grace. 

I can hardly believe that after practicing yoga for years I have never made this connection, but I suppose this is the power of a practice that always gives back. As I give to yoga, it gives back to me. Yoga in sanskrit, means 'union' or 'oneness'. It is when we align our mind, body, and spirit to become 'one' that we can access higher realms of consciousness, and become who 'YOU" really are.  

They found Joy in Cooking and Joy in Life.

These are the words on the cover "The Lynn Family Recipes," a beautiful addition to my collection of cookbooks I received this weekend.  I was pleased to have the opportunity to apprentice one of the finest bakers north of Salt Lake I have ever met.  A kind Jerry Lynn invited me into his home, into his baking delights, and into his joyful world. The Lynn cookbook was just one small token of the visit, the knowledge and experience however far surpassing the recipes. I learned on Friday, that simple Jerry Lynn is a master in his own right. He can make more cinnamon rolls and fresh bread than probably all of our efforts combined. The most impressive part, it's all by hand. The only modern devices he uses is a mixer and an oven, the rest is from the palm of his hand.  As I watched his hands and feet shuffle around the kitchen, I observed Jerry in 'his flow'. It was clear the kitchen is 'his' domain. He has a familiarity and efficiency that surpasses our everyday use of the kitchen. He told me that during busy seasons he produced up to 80 dozen cinnamon rolls and 140 dozen muffins. Jerry owned a bakery for many years in South Bountiful area. If you are familiar you may remember his incredible cinnamon roles or fresh pies. 

How did I encounter such a mentor of baked goods? The meeting of Jerry Lynn has been magical from the start. He is my neighbor at the Bountiful Farmers Market and a backyard Beekeeper of 20-60,000 bees. He sell his honey that he bottles in his own home, and friends there simply is no better honey out there.  At first meeting I may have thought that his skills stopped at Beekeeping alone, but little did I know the baking genius that lied beneath.  Jerry was kind and inquisitive of my small cookie business and eager to help teach me cinnamon roles. I mentioned to him that I felt good with cookies and Gluten Free, but the thought of Gluten Full flours and yeast made me as nervous as a little girl. In fact, we can blame this on my mother but she never cared to make fresh bread other than a bread machine and her first experience as a child baking bread it turned out like a brick. I had assumed it simply wasn't worth learning. Well, I was wrong. 

Baking bread is a science, an art, and gets better with experience. Jerry doesn't have to analyze or read recipes, baking bread is a part of who he is, it's second nature. I feel this way with cookies, but not with bread, and not with golf. Perhaps someday I will, but I realized that while we take these skills and dilute them with modern appliances, technology, and quickie solutions, there is simply no substitute for the hand made process of making and shaping bread.  Yeast is living, so we treat is kindly and let it multiply in it's element. It isn't as temperamental as I once thought after understanding the properties in which it likes to grow. 

Life has turned around for me, for years I spent time trying to climb the corporate ladder, find more money, bigger homes, faster ways of doing things. Now I find solace in the simple beauty of life, in a small garden, in a simple pose, in working with my hands, and leaving a labor of love in my path. 

Jerry left me with a new found knowledge that I certainly couldn't place a price tag. His knowledge come from generations of finding joy in cooking and joy in life.  I am certainly not convinced that I will own a bakery with yeast breads, but I do know see the love and dedication it takes produce a legacy.