I have not seen the movie “Up in the Air” yet. The trailer had such a profound effect on me that I am tempted to forgo the film length version. The trailer begins with a question, “how much does your life weigh?”

It seems easier for me to feel the weight of life these days. Without the framework of house and routine upon which to distribute that weight I feel myself feeling increasingly weighed down. It is not that life is heavier for me than it is for anyone else (I would even argue the contrary), but can I be honest and say that while this season has simplified, freed and cut loose many of life’s weights, carrying my life on my back is pretty budensome?

Last weekend at yoga teacher training I received a homework assignment. I was to choose one of the yamas or niyamas of the eight limbed path and meditate on it for two minutes a day for a week, and to journal the thoughts and ideas that accompanied my meditation. I chose satya-truth.

As life has felt increasingly weighty these last couple of weeks, my brief moments sitting with satya have been rich and challenging. Whether or not I have found truth, I have come to consider that in the search for truth it is useless and even defeating to compare myself to other people on any level. I have also considered that dwelling in the past or anticipating the future only the muddies the waters of determining what is true now.

I have tried to apply these things to the little and big parts of my life and it has helped me to own the choices that I have made and to let go of the control that I do not have. It has helped me to simplify my life on a new level–beyond just materials and itineraries and into expectations and assumptions.

“Make no mistake, moving is living,” the narrator says. And no matter how literally or figureatively we carry our lives on our back, we all continue moving through routines and expectations and relationships and assumptions as we search for and sit with truth.

Weight may be burdensome but it also grounds us. And as one of my favorite bloggers wrote, “home can be a still point in a moving world.”

There have been many tears and a lot of anxiety as I have crawled my way through the last six days of this yoga training. From the moment I arrived I realized that the adage that would sum up my experience of this nine days would be, “The Teacher is the highest form of the Self.” Unfortunately, my expectations in coming here were tied to ideas of being taught by someone or something external, separate from me, beyond me and outside of me. The idea and the practice of reaching inward to find the lessons and realizations that accompany a growing practice is a difficult one to embrace. And I have not always done it gracefully.

There is a yoga philosophy called maya that I have frequently encountered and quickly disregarded as irreconcilable to my life experience. Maya means illusion and it holds that the whole physical world is illusion. When I have read or heard this I jump to the conclusion that illusion is synonymous with “fake” or “unreal.” What I have witnessed this week is that maya simply means that what we see is not all that there is. And if we are willing to look deeper than what our first encounters tell us, we will find a sense of peace and unity that transcends expectations and attachment.

If this sounds too eastern, that’s ok, Jesus said it too (not that Jesus is not also “eastern”),

The Kingdom of God is within.

If it sounds too spiritual, Albert Eistein said,

This [universe] is a kind of prison for us; it restricts us to our personal decisions and our affections to a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.

Or, as Darren Main says,

It’s as if God is playing hide-and-seek…when we peek behind the veil of maya we see that beautiful divine light hiding there.

Namaste.

Last night, over outstanding tapas and a caraf of cucumber water (compliments of Taste and Aunt Eliz), Aram and I reflected on how the last several months have challenged our individual mindsets. As one whose personal mantra tends to go along the lines of “prepare! plan! project!” this season of simplicity has done more than pare down my wardrobe. My role this season has more often than not been one of provision, putting in the hours of whatever work is available to bring in a little livelihood for us. But the nature of that provision has been short term, momentary and fleeting. The jobs I’ve had have been very temporary and the kind of work could be quickly undone.

I had not noticed this until last night, but this lifestyle has helped me to attend more consciously to daily and momentary needs,  allowing the future to have a muted, background presence. Not that I have not had my share of fear and frenzies. I also appreciate my ability to plan, project and prepare, but I have been surprised over and over again at the beautiful cogency of life in the absence of my preparations.

Aram on the other hand has an uncanny adaptability for any and all unexpected twists and turns. I will not speak extensively for him, but his vision has been steadily fixed on the years ahead, a place his gaze does not easily translate. It feels metaphorically apt that through an encounter with modern technology, he can now see clearly into the distance. We are both hoping that our distant future begins to take a hint of that same clarity.

Jesus said, “Be one of those who pass by.” Gospel of Thomas

We have passed by and passed through many farmer’s markets during this year of itinerancy. Through difference seasons, different cities and different venues we have watched communities gather around the harvest and the creative goods made from that harvest. We have even done a little of the harvesting ourselves!

Our revisit to the IWFM this morning returned some of the most exciting goods we have taken home from such markets to date. Fresh made juice (“Spring Cleaner”–apple, lemon, ginger, cayenne pepper), Trader’s Point Banana Mango yogurt, and hydroponic living lettuce, which is now happily living in a pint glass on our windowsill. If we take care of it properly, it might grow and produce for up to a month.

It will be my last Farmer’s Market for a few weeks as I take off this Thursday to Chicago to participate in CorePower Yoga’s Teacher Training. Beginning with a 9 day intensive, I will be throwing all of my energy into a well-rounded eight limb yoga practice. Until then I am looking forward to a closer look at Heidi Swanson’s Super Natural Cooking as I meal plan for the week. On the menu so far: wheat berry salad, chickpea quinoa pilaf, shredded green bean salad, granola (check our Heidi’s cooking blog for variations on all of these recipes). And of course I will take a big bag of fresh romaine.

One of the questions we get from time to time is, “How?”  And that’s a good question.  It makes sense for someone, when we tell them about what we’ve been up to since August and our plans through the summer, to ask how we’re able to do it.  Like practically how.

So here it is, your how-to-guide for living the life we’ve always wanted.  You have options:

a) Become interminably wealthy.  Then muster the courage to embark.*

b) Get several of an assortment of credit cards, with a combined credit limit of at least as much money as you plan on spending during your gallivantations.  Then muster the courage to embark.**

c) Live simply.  Make nourishing homemade meals and eat them together.  Be adaptable.  Foster the willingness to forgo certain luxuries for a time, such as personal space and Netflix.  Drive when you have to but walk when you can.  Disregard out-of-the-country parking tickets if instructed to do so by the appropriate governmental authorities.  WWOOF.  Blog your outgoing Christmas card to save on postage.  Find creative or menial ways to make a buck or two wherever you go.*  [Lauren has taught yoga, cleaned toilets, and figured out a way to be a gainfully employed social-media expert.  She also cleaned toilets.  Aram has tried unsuccessfully to keep up with her astounding diligence and occupational prowess, and along the way has managed to secure a few odd jobs: independently contracted trash man and product transportation, wilderness adventure guide, Kahn's inventory assistant, dead guineafowl compost-er, and maybe by next week a re-certified substitute teacher.]  Splurge on ice cream cones in the winter, but split the ice cream cone.  Have really generous friends. [Remember to be conscientious of their generosity.  Be generous back.  And say, "Thank you."  Your generous friends can be family members.]  Be willing to clean toilets.  Then muster the courage to embark.***

*choose this option only if your means of acquiring the interminable amount of wealth is both legal and edifying.  edification being the first priority.  legality being more flexible, but nonetheless important.

**do not, under any circumstances, choose this option.  it’s a bad option.  i was being sarcastic.

***this option is more or less the one we decided upon.  so far it’s been delightfully effective.  we wish you the best!

First visit to the Indianapolis Winter Farmer’s Market this morning! It was packed with milling patrons by the time we arrived at 9:45 and continued to become more busy over the next 45 minutes while we perused the various vendors, including growers, food artisans, coffee roasters and craft artisans. Laura Henderson + friends (Growing Places) have created a beautiful community around local food and the people who supply it. The enthusiasm of vendors and customers is fun to be a part of as you drift from sample to sample.

This week we walked away with a black rye bread mix from The Bridgetown Mill, Hot Cocoa lip balm from Natural Independence and a brilliant soft pretzel along with promises to support Nicole Taylor’s pasta, LocalFoods salsa and Rene’s Bakery Molasses Cookies in the coming weeks. We also managed to find perhaps the last remnants of fresh tomatoes for the season. She is plump, ripe, red and waiting to be incorporated into a lucky dish soon! A feast for the eyes, the mouth and the soul!

The IWFM is one of the many reasons why we are happy to spend these several weeks in Indianapolis. Not only are our families here, but this city that birthed us is continuing to grow and develop in ways that nurture many of the core things we believe in. People like Laura and Tyler Henderson are cultivating events and venues for sustainable living, conscious eating and community growth. We are thrilled to participate alongside of our Indy friends in the creative ways that people are investing in the earth+people+neighborhoods around them.

And the time could not be more relevant. As violence continues to grow in the neighborhoods of our friends and families we all feel an increasing sense of urgency to nurture and develop lifestyles of awareness and opportunity. As we invest our money in food that is grown in our backyards, attention into the children that play in our neighborhoods and creativity into the materials at our fingertips, we hope to communicate that the people, land and creatures that surround us are important, and that we will be their advocates.

We brought in the New Year with a beautiful meal and fun games shared with old and new friends. The New Year also came with news of a dear friend of ours from Bloomington who had been killed. Within 24 hours we traveled to Bloomington for a candlelight vigil and then traveled again to Seymour, Indiana for the wedding of two wonderful friends. Needless to say, the weekend has been fraught with emotion and once again we are grateful for our little nook apartment where we return every night  to familiarity, quiet and warmth.

This combined grief and celebration as brought on by the beautiful lives and death of our friends has nuanced our New Year conversations. Thoughts of new beginnings and tragic ends flurry around us in ways that make it hard to create sense or meaning. The human plight drives us forward and so we continue to create stories with or without the meaning or moral that so often eludes us.

The advent of 2010 falls in the middle of our year of travel and it is a good time to reflect on where we have been and where we are going. We hope to approach the coming year, in all of its unknown and newness, with the momentum we have gathered from 2009. I think we are both pretty amazed at the dreams that have already materialized on our journey. We are heading into 2010 with a lot of leads, a lot of support, and a lot of hope. There is not much else I can think of that feels better than creating success out of what you have in your back pocket.

In 2009–We experienced how little we can live on and how much rest we can find in the process. We found that community is more valuable (emotionally and materially) than discretionary income. We discovered that we love to watch TV.

As for 2010, we plan to approach everything with mindfulness, coming back to breath when things inevitably fall apart, or come together or stay exactly as they are.

Happy New Year.

whether you’re smiling at the base of an adorned tree

whether you’re waiting in ambush with a pile of snow balls

whether you’re in bed warmly wrapped in swaddling cloths

whether you’re sitting at a table with loved ones scattered round

whether you’re on the road or in a hurry or sitting still

may the cheer and peace of Christmas meet you where you are

Following a generous portion of concrete beneath the tires of our CRV, and a brief stop at the Zigler home to have a go at freeing the squirrel who took a plunge into their fire place, Lauren and I drove slowly through the neighborhood around 13th and New Jersey eager to spy our most recent residence.

We found it, and with it found ourselves full of delightful anticipation to make it warm, cozy, ours.  That’s what we’ve been up to today.  Assembling shelves, arranging lamps, stocking the refrigerator, placing a few photos, unpacking suitcases.  Thanks to K and E for letting us nest in your Indy nest.

We’ve loved the moments we’ve shared with our many housemates over the past several months, you have been generous beyond compare.

We’re thrilled to have a place of our own for a spell.  A place to settle in, spread out, and center ourselves.  A place where the divine nature of peace can intermingle with our human longings for home.

Aram goes out to feed the animals every morning when the sun comes up and every evening before it goes down. Sometimes he returns with a few of the green-blue eggs that the hens have laid. But before he got to the chicken coop yesterday, he made a heroic rescue. Samantha, the farm cat, decided (or due to extreme winds may have been coerced) to go for a swim in the recently installed lap pool outside. Hearing screams of the distress, Aram found her clamoring but unable to get out. He retrieved her and handed her off to a pile of towels and a hairdryer in front of the wood-burning stove. The vet cleared her and she is presently perched on the windowsill watching the birds outside.  Nine lives indeed.

Another close call was the lonesome guinea fowl isolating herself from the flock. A few hours later we found her dead in the pen, a group of shushing and curious females gathered around her in something less like grief than awe. A little uncovering produced another guinea probably lost during the night. A quick transfer was made to a more sheltered area. Domestic farm animals sometimes need a little help initiating their instinct to stay warm.

But our first encounters with farm mortality (or near mortality in Samantha’s case) coincided with something a bit more promising in terms of lasting. Guinea may die but berries last forever! We collected 8 pounds of raspberries out of the freezer boiled them in a huge aluminum pan and hot packed them into mason jars. Pop! Pop! Went the tabs to indicate our success.

I taught a yoga class at River Yoga in the evening followed by an invitation with some classmates to join them at the local bistro for some snacks and wine. It is good to relieve Liz, the instructor here and allow her to take a class in the midst of all the teaching she does.

So we are making friends of all varieties and learning a million things a day. The life cycles do not go on hold for the winter, though there may be more witnessing of completed life instead of new life. Energy goes into preserving the life that is already happening—keeping the animals sustained with food and warmth, preserving the berries that were picked early in the season and protecting the root plants that are in the ground before the ground freezes. A mini lesson in what many of us are attempting to do on a grander scale. Maybe we can look at our present season on this earth as a winter season. Not because it is barren dark and void, but because we can take advantage of the limited light and warmth that we have to make the most of the things that the people before us have planted and created.