Jaime Posa

In a breakout room last week, Richard Sugarman asked some great questions around what may be the indicators of trust being evident and connection to be felt between people. It had me thinking more about how one might start to build the foundation for this. I immediately thought about the importance of expressing curiosity for others through asking questions, particularly meaningful ones as Rich had just done, as these can truly serve as bridges amongst individuals from all different backgrounds. Jaime's writing below inspires me to think more about the beauty of learning about others and their interests and beliefs, with both friends and strangers. And how doing so can expand not only my perspective but my empathy for others. 

- Amanda

It's easy to feel obsessed with convenience and quickness. 

Doing things faster. More efficient. 

There's a desire for the quick high of the left lane

We grow the “most food for the most people”. 

And I know I can buy anything from anywhere and have it tomorrow. 

But what if going slow was sexy? 

During my sophomore year of college, I took a creative writing course that helped me grow on various levels. Throughout my schooling, I had always felt confident in the subject area of writing, but the professor I had shattered that confidence the first month of the semester... in a great and perhaps necessary way.

I’m a certified yoga teacher.

I feel so blessed to have taught in so many settings.

I have taught children. I have taught strangers in a community garden. I have taught kids in low-income communities without mats. I have taught fellow friends and activists committed to community change.

And, maybe my favorite of all, I taught teen aged boys when I lived in Costa Rica. I never intended to teach teenage boys. It was never a job I specifically applied for and it was never something I would have signed up for if you asked me. But…

Lately, when people ask me how I am doing, I cannot answer “Good, how are you?”.

I am not sleeping. I have two little ones going through sleep regressions and health issues and challenges. I am running between their bedrooms and ours and usually by the time I go to lay down in our bed my heart is racing so bad that when I finally do wind down, one of the babies is up again. This is my story nearly every. single. night.

So, truth be told, I am not okay. I am so beyond tired. I am overwhelmed. I often don’t know where to start.

I love this pic. My Dad took it in 2011... my backyard in El Salvador. He came to visit and we went for a walk to the falls with these little kiddos/my close friends & my chuchito (my wild doggie). I never thought my dad would visit me there - sleep on the floor, bucket bathe outside with cold water, use my outhouse, and carry a Spanish dictionary around. He was mad when I told him I was joining the peace corps after college. And he wasn’t ecstatic to learn I’d be living 27 months in one of the most dangerous countries in the world - - it also has some of the hardest working & kindest people, but that doesn’t come up in the News or Google.

For almost 9 years I was in love
In love with a way of life
That left me alone
Most nights
In my bed.
I never called myself wanderlust,
no.

Ellie’s been so involved in our prenatal appointments and especially loves the home visits. Here she climbed up on the couch and squished herself next to me and lifted up her shirt to check her belly too. I’ve been taking out some things for baby two and when she sees them she will now say “baby sisters”. 

I think so much about the person I was before becoming a Mom... And while, yes, I know I’m still that person, the reality is I just simply don’t have the time or space to take action in the ways I used to. I also believe my brain has changed to prioritize the health and well-being of my family. 

The stiller I become the more I can see.

Red dragon flies, ruby meadowhawks... hundreds, 

hovering like helicopters above a surface of green

Before they join the dance with one another 

In circular patterns around the pond. 

One of my favorite parts of the morning is opening the curtains to my favorite room in the house, which happens to be my baby’s nursery/my yoga room. Although this may sound sweet at first, it’s not because that’s how I wake up with baby. That sounds beautiful. But, in fact, I typically wake up in the pitch blackness to my baby crying and/or screaming at 5am…which is not, in fact, my favorite part of the morning.  But, a couple hours later, her Dad takes her out for a morning walk and I come back into her nursery and transform it back into my yoga room…..

I did my first live Zoom yoga class this morning. Lately, I’ve just been squeezing in small self-practices when I can, or doing a pre-recorded class, but I was craving some social connection, so I decided to seek out a live online class at the studio I used to go to. 

After nearly every single yoga class, I always am amazed by the changes I notice in my mind and body. It almost surprises me every time, too. Like, I’ve been practicing for 10 years, how is each time still so new and profound? But, that’s what it is like when working and exploring your own mind and body from a space of curiosity, letting go and conscious breathing: there’s never-ending stuff to discover. 

A few months or more ago, I began greatly reducing the amount of times I help Ellie. Can’t reach something up on a shelf? Oh well. Getting frustrated when her ball rolls under the table, just out of reach. Ugh, bummer. Trips and falls? Even drops her head and whimpers a little? I get a little closer, offer some words or perhaps a rub on the back if it seemed to frighten her, but for the most part, I’m working on giving up “saving her” from her own problems. 

The best part about Ellie's playroom is that it is has a window she can walk up to that faces the woods. Every now and then, we get a close up view of deer. This morning she saw one, pointed and came running over to get a closer look. Then we just stood together and observed for awhile until she was done observing. She said "woof woof" and then went back to play. I really reveled in that experience.

One of my new year's resolutions is to be less hard on myself ... to laugh at the mistakes, to have more positive self-talk, to trust my own intuition more, and to simply stress less about my daily agendas. Because deep down I know it will all get done and that I am always trying my best - so why add so much anxiety and overthinking into the mix? Jaime's blog reminds me of the power of believing in myself and of being mindful of feelings, my energy, my needs, and my growth. AND, to not let a long cold winter freeze my ability to make, even seed-like, changes to my life ;) The growth will happen naturally when I begin first by getting more in touch with what I believe I really am. Thanks Jaime!

-Amanda

There are many ways to save a life.

Let us not think little of the way we greet our doorman
Of the smiles we give out on the sidewalks
Of the dinners we make for our friends.
Not everyone stops to say hello
And some people go entire days unnoticed
Coming home to empty houses
With walls full of photographs of people who don't phone.
Make the time.

Jorgen's piece reminded me of a thought that’s been brewing since a couple of weeks ago. 

I helped run a two week outdoor education program through Tinkergarten. To get to the location you had to drive to the way back of a park, which required going over about 12 speed bumps. The first time I pulled in I thought to myself “Wow, this is annoying and I will have to leave earlier tomorrow to get through this and into the woods on time.” (Mind you my 6 month baby was going with me and the drive was usually her nap time so I reeeeally had to mind the speed bumps). 

The second time I went down speed bump lane I knew what was coming and knew there was no avoiding so I just took a deep breath and got on with it. 

And then, around day three, half way through the course I realized I wasn’t thinking about the speed bumps at all. I was looking around at the gorgeous scenery. I waved to a few dog walkers. I couldn’t believe how peaceful the morning was. 

By the end of week 1, I couldn’t wait to drive in and I smiled at every speed bump. The road in runs along a beautiful stream. There are bridges. Loads of dogs and happy walkers. It’s so so green. And the sounds are so soothing.

I would go back.  

I would go back to when you were just tiny 

And wide eyed and testing out the world 

And make sure you knew that you were loved. 

Last year, 2017, in spring time, this little yellow finch used to come up to our bedroom window early every morning and tap on it. He never flew directly into it, he would just hover in front of it and tap. Of course, I quickly fell in love with him and wholeheartedly believed he wanted to be my friend. I was concerned he’d crash into the window one day and hurt himself and I was curious about what was making him do this, so I started googling and visited the local bird store in town. 

Jaime Posa feels so so deeply.

Jaime Posa has a capacity to let me know myself… much better

Jaime creates a space with her first words that allows me to check in and quit rushing… to slow slow slow… 

…down

…and then I decidedly settle in… 

A giant Earthworm wiggles its way up from the ground and the kids squeal with delight. “Look at this bug!” Someone else shouts, and I feel a spritz of water on the back of my legs as someone walks by with a tilted watering can. We grab the “Good Bug, Bad Bug” book to see if we’ve got a garden friend or a garden foe. Meanwhile, Sam is munching on his fourth bowl of self-picked salad.

I’m not so sure people want us to give them answers and advice,
As they want us to ask them good questions. 
And for us to hold a safe space for them. 

Whenever we do forward folds in yoga the teacher reminds me to "lead with your heart and then let your head follow." It's an incredibly important reminder, because of what a difference it makes. 

It's funny. I've been practicing yoga for years, yet no matter how many times I reach down to touch my toes, I almost always force my forehead towards my knees, using my hands to brace the back of my legs so that I can pull just a little bit closer. I'm determined to stretch as deeply as possible. My back curves, my chest contracts, my forehead wrinkles, and my shoulders shrug up into my ears. I feel tighter than ever.