Our Kripalu Weekend

Zentangle.

Kripalu.

Gommie.

Wow, what a weekend we just had.


Friday:
Even the drive north on small, wooded backroads into Massachusetts was special.  I had traversed those roads with Mama years ago when the kids were small, so it was wonderful to be up there again.  The landscape is lovely--spring green trees, rocky streams, bubbling water.  We stopped a few times to admire the woods and river, watching the fly fishermen at work.  It's my favorite kind of landscape; Gommie was mesmerized.

Kripalu is a retreat center nestled in the Berkshires not far from Tanglewood, the concert venue and summer home of the Boston Symphony.  And it is gorgeous!  It used to be the Shadowbrook estate, if I understand correctly--the remains of the stone gatehouse are visible up front (apparently, the foundation of the mansion is there, too, but I didn't go looking for it.)  The setting is miraculous--mountains (or hills--I'm a flatlander) with a lake nestled in the valley, expansive lawns, lots of trees, and so much sky.  Many times during the weekend, we would just sit on the terrace of the main Shadowbrook retreat center and admire the view.

The view from our room.

Being on retreat at Kripalu is a lot like college, or as Gommie said, camp for adults.  We had classes and meals and downtime in our little room (two twins, great view, awful water control in the shower.)  But there was no stress, no responsibility, no unpleasantness.  Even before we checked into our room in the Annex which overlooked the grounds and the lake in the distance, we enjoyed lunch in the big cafeteria.

View from the terrace.

Oh, the Kripalu food.  Ayurvedic in theory (which has 6 flavors and ideas about balance of warming and cooling foods), seasonal and sustainable, with vegetarian and vegan options.  Over the six meals, we had delicious fresh salads with this great House dressing, veggie burgers, Moroccan tomato soup, coconut carrot salad, spiced chicken tagine, Greek kale salad, sauteed rainbow chard, Indian chickpeas, roasted potatoes, warm lentil salad, roasted carrots with maple syrup, kale and more kale!, oatmeal, museli, granola, vegan brownies, soy masala chai, Moroccan mint iced tea, orange Rooiboos tea, and the list could go on (yes, I bought the little booklets of recipes in the shop but there are many here, too.)  Makes me hungry just typing that up.  Breakfast was eaten in silence, a way to begin the day mindfully.  We tried to take every meal in the room overlooking the mountains and lake, soaking in the beauty and the fresh air through the windows.

Entrance to the labyrinth

After eating and unloading our bags, we headed straight to the labyrinth.  I love labyrinths, as you know, but hadn't realized there was one at Kripalu and so I hadn't brought anything to leave at the center.  Still, we walked it that first afternoon and I was just filled with this amazing joy.  Each time I walk a labyrinth, I have different reactions.  Friday was brimming with joy.  Joy to be with Gommie all to myself.  Joy to be in beauty.  Joy to be studying Zentangle, which fills me with excitement.  Joy, joy, joy.  It was Gommie's first labyrinth so I went over the basic etiquette about quiet and stepping to the side when you pass another.  The walk certainly set the tone for the weekend.

Tile #1

That evening, we had our first Zentangle class.  We'd run into the founders, Maria Thomas and Rick Roberts and their daughters Molly and Martha on the terrace earlier and had a chance to say hi.  I can't really describe what it's like to take a class with them--their stories, their humor, their rapport with each other, all of their mantras and saying of encouragement.  Even though I'd taken a long seminar just a month ago, it was all fresh and interesting again.

As at the CZT seminar a month or so ago, we received lots of great items--not just pens and pencils, tortillons and tiles, but an "Anything is Possible One Stroke at a Time" bag and a brand new journal. The theme of the weekend was extending our Zentangle practice, mainly how to connect tangles to one another, "tangle to tangle." We did a pretty straightforward hollibaugh-pokeroot-crescent moon variation for the first tile.

After class, we soaked in the cool mountain air while the bright full moon blocked out most of the stars.  We were tired and went to bed soon after.


Saturday:
This was our full day of great food, wonderful classes, beautiful views, and lots of R&R.  Gommie even took a gentle yoga class while I took a long nap.  We also walked the labyrinth again and this time I had something to leave in the center--one of the Zentangle bookmarks and a little piece of metallic rainbow bismuth I picked up in the shop.  This walk for me was more about contentment.  And I realized why I walk labyrinths:  I walk labyrinths because there have been times when I couldn't.

Tile #2

Philosophical.  Gommie and I had a lot of personal and philosophical conversations, like we haven't had . . . since the kids were born, perhaps?  It was special and important.  It even carried over into our Zentangle class.  Gommie asked Maria Thomas what creativity was and why we were drawn to it; they had a discussion about how, for Maria, creativity was central to her personality and was about liking even needing to do things differently--she still goes outside borders, figuratively and literally!  They even took this conversation to the whole class later, talking about how creation is central to the human condition--it's how we express ourselves, how we contribute to the world, how we serve.  And they thanked Gommie for sparking this reflection.

My tile #3

Tile #4--this took 2 hours!

We did a lot more complicated tiles on Saturday--"high focus" which is code for advanced. There was tile #2 with a tripoli center and rixty weaving in and out of fracas; there was tile #3 with a huggins variation and a new tangle named peeld.  I hadn't seen some of the tangles and even Maria made an oops (on the number of orbs in the huggins variation in tile #3 and so had to squeeze one in sideways) and tried to start over until the group chanted "No mistakes!"  And Maria just worked with it and it was beautiful.  Tile #4, with its spiral of nzeppel bursting into mooka and pokeleaf, took two hours!  Gommie had been tangling on her own for a year; this was her first real class.  I'm sure it was all a little overwhelming, but she did a wonderful job following along and not getting frustrated when she didn't understand. I came away with some new techniques, my favorite being peeld, seen in tile #3 where the line just seems to peel away from the design.

That evening, we attended a special optional session where we tangled another treat, a pencil case.  Apparently, you can coat canvas with Mod Podge Fabric and tangle it to your heart's content with an Identi-pen and a gray Fabrico marker for shading.  It was fun and came out beautifully.  Gommie really likes the thicker pens we used and will probably stick with a Micron .08 instead of .01commonly used.

We ended the evening on the chilly terrace, where the moon glowed eerily through the increasing cloud cover.  Another beautiful mountain night.


Sunday:

Tile #5--this also took 2 hours

We were up early with the singing birds, putting our luggage in my car before breakfast.  Then we sat on the terrace until class, communing with the chipmunk that came looking for food.  We saw it every time we were outside.

Class was one Renaissance tile that took two hours to complete--with the crescent moon variation, the raspberry center, the squib petals, the perf orbs, the etching technique on the leaves, all the shading in graphite and white chalk.  But, oh the results!  And when we put everyone's tiles together in a class mosaic, the arches could be connected in circles or pathways.  Beautiful.  And a great way to end our Zentangle class.

And our visit.  We opted to skip lunch, which was still an hour away, in order to get home so Gommie could spend more time with the kiddos.  It was a little hard to leave the peace behind, but I know we took some of it with us.


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Kripalu House Dressing

Makes about 2 cups

1 cup sunflower oil or grape seed oil
2 tablespoons toasted sesame oil
¼ cup tamari (natural soy sauce)
¼ cup lemon juice
1/3 cup sesame tahini
2 cloves garlic
½ tablespoon dry mustard powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ tablespoon chili powder
pinch cayenne
½ cup water

Combine all ingredients and blend using a standard blender or immersion blender.

Kripalu Moroccan Mint Tea

Makes 6 cups

6½ cups water
½ cup fresh mint (stems and all), washed
2 tablespoons or 6 tea bags green tea
1 to 2 tablespoons sweetener of choice (organic sugar, agave, or honey)

Bring water to a boil. Turn off heat, add mint, and allow to steep for five minutes. Return to a boil, turn off heat, and add tea. Allow tea to steep no more than three minutes. (Green tea becomes bitter when steeped too long.) Remove tea and mint; sweeten to taste. Serve hot, or make iced tea by refrigerating until cold, or pouring cooled tea over ice.

Masala Chai

Makes about 4 cups.

2 tablespoons whole cardamom
2 teaspoons whole cloves
2 cinnamon sticks
1 whole stars of anise
1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1 tablespoon slice fresh ginger
4 black tea bags
2 cups milk (or substitute soy milk)
2 cups water
1 to 3 tablespoons sweetener of choice

Combine all spices and tie them in a cheesecloth. Using a rolling pin or other heavy utensil, lightly pound the spices to crush them slightly. Place milk, water, and spices in the cheesecloth in a pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for 15 minutes. Bring water back to a boil, turn off, and add black tea. Let steep for 5 minutes, then strain. Add sweetener of choice and stir to dissolve. Serve warm, or chill over ice for a cooling afternoon treat.

Fall Fun: Autumn Nature Mandalas

Having seen some natural mandalas on Pinterest as I continue my exploration of Zentangle and mandalas, I took a little time today to find some colorful leaves--all but the purple ones are from the nursing home where my current hospice patient lives; the purple ones are from our Japanese maple.  

The following photos are just my first attempts.  I can see collecting more leaves, fallen branches, and other items.  The white rocks are kind of "cheating" since they were bought and put in our garden.

You know the most remarkable thing about these mandalas?  I sat on the ground to make them!

Can't wait to try it with the kids . . . .

(Vague memory:  I used to build designs and even little structures on the beach at the bay house.  One time, my Aunt J asked what I was doing and I replied, "Building a temple to Poseidon."  I was really into classical mythology then.  She then asked if I believed in the Greek god of the sea and, while I didn't answer, I realized that I believed he was as probable as any Christian God, prophet, or saint.  Usually my memory of this event focuses on the discussion, but today I had a clear sense of the house made of driftwood, shells, and such.)

Our Own Loquat Tree

There was a party in our backyard this weekend. And we found the evidence yesterday after school. Running around in the back and front, the kids noticed all sorts of footprints, mostly human but not all. Intrigued, we followed them around the yard, spotting different paths, different shapes. Exactly what kinds of animals had visited us? Sis thought black bear. Bud believes birds flew around but didn't land. After taking pictures of several of the tracks, we headed inside to our trusty computer and looked up different animal tracks. We eliminated black bear, as well as opossum, deer, fox, coyote. That left squirrel and raccoon, with very similar prints complete with claws but in two different sizes. And then there were the droppings. Not of any of those animals above, we checked. Turns out that it's proof of our resident bunny, whom Mama sees at night in the yard when she comes home. Sis was ecstatic. We called Mama; we called Pop. They wanted to call all of their school friends to report on the clues. Bud termed us "Bud, Sis, and Mommy the Great," after the Nate the Great books we like to read. The animals weren't the only ones who had a party.

out in the back by the grape stake fence
is a place where nature makes so much sense
all the creatures livin' in harmony
it's a wild wild party in the loquat tree

fuzzies and furries run walk or fly
havin' a feast beneath a clear blue sky
animals comin' from miles around
to bounce the branch and shake the loquat down

the squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
all havin' a party in the loquat tree
eatin' all the yellow fruit they can see
it's a wild wild party in the loquat tree

--Indigo Girls, "Wild Wild Party in the Loquat Tree"

The Wonder Years

Generation To Generation

In a house which becomes a home,
one hands down and another takes up
the heritage of mind and heart,
laughter and tears, musings and deeds.
Love, like a carefully loaded ship,
crosses the gulf between the generations.
Therefore, we do not neglect the ceremonies
of our passage: when we wed, when we die,
and when we are blessed with a child;
When we depart and when we return;
When we plant and when we harvest.
Let us bring up our children. It is not
the place of some official to hand to them
their heritage.
If others impart to our children our knowledge
and ideals, they will lose all of us that is
wordless and full of wonder.
Let us build memories in our children,
lest they drag out joyless lives,
lest they allow treasures to be lost because
they have not been given the keys.
We live, not by things, but by the meanings of things.
It is needful to transmit the passwordsf rom generation to generation.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery


Having read the first few sections of Parents as Spiritual Guides, by Roberta and Christopher Nelso, a UU book about whole-family spirituality, I've been thinking about some of the questions posed to parents. The first few exercises involve the definition of spirituality, why it's important to the parent, and the role of wonder in spirituality. And so, as I mentioned earlier, I'm going to journal about them here.

The book utilizes Dr. James Fowler's theories about spiritual development, from the undifferentiated faith of infants, through the mythic-literal faith of symbols and storytelling, to the Individuative-Reflective faith with its personally-constructed meanings, and, where I think I am now, the Paradoxical-Consolidative faith of recognizing the complexities of life and living with them (there are other stages and I don't know any of them well; this is just a quick mention of them). Apparently, for Fowler, the family is at the center of faith development, being the place where humans experience shared meanings and rituals, among other essential needs.

What is spirituality to me and why do I want to bring it to my kids? Spirituality, for me, is the valuing of things of the spirit, i.e. not consumer goods, not products, not posessions, but emotions such as love, wonder, gratitude, appreciation, responsibility, compassion, a feeling of connection to all living things, the questioning of the nature of the universe, a sense of a picture bigger than the here and now, my place in it all, as well as my contribution to it. What is that saying on coffee mugs? The most important things in life aren't things. In UU terms, it would be Principle 7, I think, the interconnectedness of all living things, plus Principle 1, the inherent worth and dignity of all people.

Such things haven't always interested me. For a long time, I confused and conflated religion and spirituality, rejecting both as I rejected Christianity, but they are not necessarily the same thing. I can be an atheist but still engaged in a spiritual quest. And so, several years ago, I began to consider such ideas. It has taken me away from a pessimistic and aggressive atheism, through a personal Wiccan interest in natural cycles and pagan traditions, to Unitarian Universalism, where I'm still an atheist with Wiccan leanings.

I should've noticed earlier, but my father, who never readily enters a church or finds much value in organized religion, is one of the most spiritually-alive people I know. He is a modern-day Thoreau, finding his communion with the universe in nature, respecting the world around him and taking care of it. He is particularly interested in ideas, reads a great deal, and engages in the issues of the day (he is one of the most well-informed people, as far as current events and political issues go). I remember as a child that he would exhort us to look out the window in the car at the world around us--look, there's the beaver dam on the way between Houston and Dallas--but I often didn't, of course, because children don't always. But of course, I want my children to look, too (see Dad, I was listening and learning, after all. Just a little late).

Do you know the joke about UUs? They are atheists with children! And that's exactly how it started. DP and I knew we wanted to have children and knew we wanted a spiritual community for them. She had been raised in a Buddhist household but sent to Catholic school for 12 years, not fitting in well either place; I was left to discover my own spiritual path and followed my mom's, but later in life, this atheism left me yearning for something else (for clarity: I don't regret not being raised with religion--I sampled lots of churches with friends--I just wished I'd found my spiritual home sooner. And thanks to art history and Cecil B. DeMille, I can identify many Bible stories). And so we checked out the local UU church, even before we were pregnant. And it's one of the best decisions we made--our specific community of friends who care for and encourage one another, our minister who has supported us with wisdom and kindness through many stressful times, the larger movement itself with its focus on liberal religious teachings and social justice. We go to church almost every week, leaving the children in the nursery for service and then spending fellowship hour together talking to friends. We had them dedicated there and are happy that they feel comfortable, happy, and loved there. And so now, as they get older, we're thinking of how to encourage their own innate spirituality. And for children, much of this centers around the concept of wonder--being able to recognize and appreciate the specialness and uniqueness of the world around them.

Nature is our path to wonder right now. The actual, physical world holds so many marvels for them, which in turns makes it marvelous for me: the tiny snow drop flowers pushing up out of the dried leaves; the tulip shoots starting to peek through next to our mailbox; the way the water rushes down the "waterfall" in the stream by our house; the half-moon visible during the day; the red tail hawk soaring overhead; birds' nests now visible in bare trees; squirrels chasing each other up and down our trees; a full rainbow in a rain-drenched sky; the way the wind dances in the trees; how gently-falling snow tastes on your tongue. We try to point out the world around them.

And last night it was the gorgeous full moon in a mostly clear and windy sky. It rose over the house next to us as we were getting the kids into bed. And so we watched it glow next to a tall pine, sometimes blocked by clouds, other times illuminating the sky. We checked back on its progress during storytime (we read Grandfather Twilight, about the man who carries a small pearl that grows larger and brighter as he spreads twilight around, until he puts the pearl into the night sky and goes to bed), and sang all our moon songs to it before we went to bed--"I See the Moon," "Sister Moon, Sister Moon," and "Moon, Moon, Moon."

The first thing we heard this morning? "Mommy, we don't see the moon. It's too sunny."

It's wonder-ful.