Your Ripple Effect
It's interesting to me how we attach a lot of meaning to beginnings and endings but not so much to the days in between. This week is the first day of school for my kids. It's an especially big deal because it is my older son Maceo's last first day of elementary school. His elementary school graduation next spring will be an even bigger deal, as will the first day of middle school next fall.
In between now and then will be a lot of lunch packing, scrambling to get out the door, hours in class missing our dog, after-school walks and snacks, chess and taekwondo practices, homework, screen time negotiations, playdates and scrambling to get to bed close to on time.
Days go by and it's often hard to pinpoint the moments where one phase ends and another begins. For years, Maceo wanted to spend his days riding the subway just for fun -- and we spent hours on "subway adventures" trying to cram in as many train lines and transfers as possible. The trips were sometimes tedious for me, but I felt wistful as my boy seemed to have outgrown them. Now Maceo has asked that we ride the Q train in its entirety, from the Upper East Side of Manhattan to Coney Island at the southern tip of Brooklyn. This is the route we were supposed to do to celebrate his 6th birthday on March 15, 2020, and the trip was canceled as the whole city shut down that day due to the coronavirus. (He was reminded of the epic disappointment when I showed him a draft of an essay I'm writing involving that experience.) And so we have planned a last hurrah for Tuesday before school begins, and I'll be sure to savor all five or so hours of it!
"How we spend our days is, of course, how we live our lives," Annie Dillard wrote. Whether or not you have kids going back to school, the transition to fall is a good time to examine our daily routines to see what is serving us. This month, I am giving you access to two back to basics recordings made by my mom, each only eight minutes long. One is a simple practice of soft belly breathing and alternate nostril breathing. The other includes mental alternate nostril breathing (visualizing the breath rather than physically blocking off a nostril) along with repetition of the mantra so hum, meaning "I am that." Subscribe here for free access to the files along with 40+ other breathing and meditation audios, and see below for more on the meaning of so hum. Some of you already know these practices well; they can be staples that fit into a busy daily routine. (Note: I love soft belly breathing as a calming technique, but once you know it, I also recommend learning to breathe with the entire torso, not just the belly, as instructed in this video.)
Whether it be meditation, breath work, exercise or walking in nature, may you incorporate something that makes you feel good into your everyday, and may we all remember to savor some of those in-between moments. Enjoy the transition to fall.
Love,
Sara
A mantra to remember our connections to each other
My kids' only request for a summer vacation was that it involve our dog, Suzie Taylor, and so we've just returned from a week in the Hamptons, less than a two-hour drive from home. We spent a few days in a dog-friendly hotel near a well-populated beach that allows dogs in the early mornings and evenings. One day, we ventured to another beach where dogs are permitted at all hours. We'd heard it wouldn't be crowded there, but we did not expect to have the place entirely to ourselves. Nor did we realize that the path where I was driving would lead our car actually onto the rocky sand, where it got stuck.
The complete solitude was both beautiful and (until my husband was able to turn the car around, maxing out its four-wheel drive capabilities) a bit terrifying. The boys and I waded ankle deep into an area where the sign said "swimming prohibited." As I looked out at the water, I thought of the mantra so hum.
I've heard from numerous meditation instructors not to think about the meaning of a mantra in meditation, to simply focus on the sound vibration, but the journalist in me wants to know what it is I'm repeating. "So" means "I" (the individual) and "hum" is "that" (the universal). "I am that" means the individual is also the universal.
Each of us is a drop in a vast ocean, and while we are individually tiny, our actions can also create a ripple effect. We can be simultaneously self-sufficient and part of a bigger picture. (This was also my thought in giving Maceo the middle name Lyle, which means island.)
Just over a year ago, my family moved from a densely populated neighborhood in western Queens, where we were constantly surrounded by the noise of construction, traffic and sirens, to a less densely populated neighborhood in eastern Queens. We have a backyard and much more greenery, but there is still subway access and we see our neighbors all the time. It has done my nervous system a lot of good to have less noise and more space, and yet I'm glad not to be isolated. We all have different preferences and comfort levels.
When sitting in traffic or waiting in line or gripping a pole on a jam-packed subway, I like to think of so hum as a reminder that we're all in the same boat, just trying to find our way somewhere. When alone and unsure of the path forward, I like to think of so hum to remember that, even when we don't see our connections, they are still right there. I can no longer see my mother, who taught me this mantra, but I still feel her with me, too.