The Witching Hour

According to ancient lore (and the more recent Wikipedia) The Witching Hour is supposedly when witches come out to do their magic or their mischief-- usually after midnight. When I was a kid, however, my mother used to say The Witching Hour was the hour before dinner when hungry children became rather naughty, or possibly between 8 pm and 9 pm when tired children needed but didn’t want to go to bed. Another word my mother used to employ when I was misbehaving was “witchy,” (as in “She’s acting rather witchy today!”)  so I grew up with the most likely false impression that witches were somewhat undesirable.

            I have found that there are other periods during the day and night that might be called The Witching Hour (excuse me witches, for now that I’ve grown up, I happen to like you all, and perhaps I’m even one of you myself), but there are times when a certain “witchiness” seems to permeate the air—and not in a good way. Sometimes I feel witchy when I’m in a sarcastic or nasty mood. On these occasions, words seem to spew from my mouth that I can’t believe I’m even saying…sort of like frogs! Most of the time, I have only nice things to say about others, but once in a while…well, the witchiness just sets in and I can’t help myself.

            This witchiness can also be inwardly directed. I might be walking down the street on a lovely afternoon, when suddenly I realize I’m thinking evil thoughts about yours truly. I have to shoo such thoughts out of my head with my broomstick (you know the type—“you’re fat, stupid, ugly, incompetent….” you get my drift). Sometimes these thoughts just bubble up for no good reason.

            On the other hand, witchiness can be a positive quality. Quite often, I can predict when the phone is going to ring or what a person is going to say. I also have a knack for manifesting parking spots and Lebanese food. Call it what you want, but one might just as easily call it witchcraft as anything else.

            With Halloween just around the corner, I’d like to give all witches (good and not-so-good) a nod, with apologies for any negative thoughts I may have had about them in the past that were handed down to me by mother, who never had a bad word to say about anyone—except, perhaps--witches.

Walkin' Tall...and Slowly

A few weeks ago I was strolling around town with a dear friend who was having a bit of a walking issue. She was rather slow and lumbering, and her joints and limbs were bothering her. I felt a certain degree of compassion, but also frustration. So many folks I know these days are unhealthy and out of shape. I do yoga every day and walk, too. Rarely do I have any problem moving.

            Until recently. Following a yoga injury I sustained more than six months ago, my walking continues to be impaired. And yesterday as I was walking around Manhattan with my family, I was the one who was behind. I was the one limping. I was the one who had trouble “doing stairs.” I was the one who couldn’t keep up.

            I asked myself, “What is the lesson you’re supposed to be learning from this?” The first word that came to my mind was “compassion.” Have compassion for yourself, a little voice whispered in my ear. It’s okay to take it slow. It’s okay to skip some classes. It’s okay to rest. Another voice also whispered, “Remember how you felt about your friends who weren’t in such good shape as you? Have compassion for them, too.”

            I consider myself to be a fairly nonjudgmental person but the more I limped the more I began noticing the negative self-talk that was going on in my head. “Why can’t you go faster? Stop babying yourself! Figure out what’s wrong and fix it…now!”

            I do believe that sometimes we get an injury because we need to learn a lesson, even if the lesson is only something as simple as “Be more mindful and pay attention.” Or “Let go of the ego.” Or, “Be more patient or kind…give yourself time.”

            I have been very impatient with this injury but I think it’s time to allow myself to rest. Pushing is not always the answer—whether you’re trying to win a race, publicize a book, make a new friend, or get to the top of a mountain. My knee, these days, seems to be little more than an annoying enemy. 

But my knee isn't my enemy; it's more like a girlfriend who's offering advice. We may not always like to hear what she’s saying or admit that she's right, but sometimes we just need to listen, learn... and put our feet up.

Blog With Love 4 Breast Cancer Awareness

As many of you know, October is breast cancer awareness month. As a breast cancer survivor of seven years, I don’t really have to be reminded. I will never forget the experience of having had breast cancer and how it impacted my life.

            Dr. Susan Love’s Army of Women is an organization that is working hard to find the cause of and cure for breast cancer. You can join to help even if you have never had this disease. Log onto www.healthofwomenstudy.org to become part of this groundbreaking effort to gather information that will help make breast cancer a disease of the past.

            In the meantime, Army of Women bloggers have been asked to blog this month about “collateral damage—costs of the cure.” I think everyone is aware of the challenging journey that many women (and men) make when they are diagnosed, as they struggle through surgery, chemo, radiation, and other treatments.

            Collateral damage means more than losing your hair, feeling nauseous, or facing your own mortality. I have seen several friends in addition to myself suffer the consequences of breast and other cancers, and I am more convinced than ever that we must find a cure soon. One of the saddest things I witnessed was when a friend who had breast cancer was forced to miss her son’s graduation from high school. She had worked so hard for her child’s entire life to experience the joy of that day. But instead, she spent her son’s graduation in the hospital dealing with complications from her treatment. 

            So many moms have experienced the physical pains and losses that come with breast cancer. But there are other collateral effects: Missing your child’s band concert, not being there to help your kids do homework, feeling too sick to attend their important sporting and musical events. The year that I had breast cancer my middle son was applying to colleges. Though I tried to give the process my full attention it was difficult to concentrate on my son’s bright future when I wasn’t even sure if I would have any future at all.

            To put it plainly, there are side effects…and then there are side effects. Feeling too sick to hug your toddler, feeling too tired to take your kids to the park, feeling too scared to laugh and smile at Christmas dinner (I was diagnosed a few weeks before the holiday) are things that doctors don’t tell you about and certainly no pill will fix. Cancer can steal away our health; it can also steal away our peace of mind and our ability to enjoy our lives and our families…if we let it. Cancer can also result in depression, anxiety, and fear. For many women, living with the fear of recurrence is a daily struggle.

             Please join the effort to eradicate this disease by going to www.armyofwomen.org and signing on to a study. Remember, it’s not necessary to have or even to have had breast cancer to participate in many of these research initiatives. Sometimes you can help just by answering a few questions on an online questionnaire, or by spreading the word to others. Thank you!

Thanks to the Butterflies...and Eloise

A very sweet young lady I know created this drawing for me when I was looking for ideas for the book cover of my memoir, Yin, Yang, Yogini: A Woman’s Quest for Balance, Strength and Inner Peace (now available for pre-order!) The final book cover, designed by the publishing company, is a bit different, but the artists did incorporate the butterflies. Hands are very difficult to draw (I am told!) but Eloise did an excellent job. In fact, I’m sure that if she so desires, she will one day have a lovely career as an artist.

            The point of this blog is to say thank you to Eloise (and to her mother, my dear friend Amy) and also to say thank you to all those who helped to make my dream of creating and publishing my memoir about my yoga and breast cancer journey come true. For the fact of the matter is, even though I was the one to sit down at my computer and write the book, it never would have happened without the input of many, many people. Nothing happens in this world, I believe, without a chain of angels (human or otherwise) that help us on our path.

            I remember the very first time I entered the yoga studio at the foot of my hill. Somehow, the universe had planted a yoga center there just at the time in my life when I deeply needed to change my path for emotional as well as physical reasons. From the moment I entered Nesheemah (which means breath), my life forever changed for the better. I entered a parallel universe of which I had hitherto been completely unaware, a universe of kind and gentle souls, of teachers, friends, and others too many to name here. That day set into motion a series of events and serendipitous meetings, opening my heart to compassion, forgiveness and trust. So many have been part of my journey…I would like to personally thank each and every one…but some I don’t even know by name. Sometimes I think of the waiter who refilled my coffee cup when I was feeling down, or a woman I crossed paths with in a grocery store who let me go first in line; the people who brighten our days are sometimes unknown to us, even though we may feel and benefit from the light they share.

            Today, I’ll simply start with Eloise, who spent some hours after school creating the beautiful drawing above for me. And I’d also like to thank the butterflies…who reveal to us every day that we are capable of change, that we capable of overcoming struggle, that we are born to be free and beautiful.