Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

The family is up in Rangeley, Maine for the holidays.  Snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, downhill skiing (maybe), and a lot of napping, sleeping, reading and hanging out is being accomplished.

Brother Bear & Me on Cross Country Skis

Christmas was beautiful and laid-back.  We really pared down on the buying this year, focusing on spending time together rather than buying a ton of stuff that no one really needs.

A Maine Christmas: A new fly fishing net!

On Christmas Eve, the clouds sunk really low and as the temperatures continued to drop, everything was coated in a thick layer of rime ice.  I’ve never seen this happen at such a low elevation, usually it happens up on the mountain tops.  It made for a gorgeous, crystally morning and some cool photo ops.

Internet access is spotty (as in I have to get to the ski lodge or the public library for access) so posting will be sparse until I get back to Cambridge.

There are some great posts coming your way in the New Year!  So in the meantime be safe, be healthy and be your yoga.

Happy New Year & Namaste!

Heartbroken for Maine

For once, I am praying that the old saying “as Maine goes, so goes the nation” does not hold true.

Born and raised in the state of Maine, I have always been a proud Mainiac.  Many friends would say my pride goes to the point of snobbishness and they would be right.  Maine is, in my opinion, a great state.

Until today.  Today, 53% of Maine voters repealed a law to allow same-sex marriages.  The law would have redefined “marriage” as a the “legally recognized union of two people” rather than that solely of a man and woman.

The outcome of this vote  sickens me with disappointment in the people of my state, a state I have long touted as being warm, open-minded and thoughtful.

It also feels like my own upcoming marriage in Maine has been lessened, cheapened and made slightly sordid because many, many people I know will not be able to choose to make this same commitment.  A commitment of the heart, soul and mind.

A comment on Facebook this morning pointed out that many people used to feel the same way about interracial marriages.  The Loving vs. Virginia case in1963 legally declared that interracial couples could marry and that laws prohibiting couples from marrying were in violation of “one of the ‘basic civil rights of man’”.

During the initial trial in Virginia, Judge Leo Bazile declared:

Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents. And but for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix.

Does this not echo the very same arguments being made against same-sex marriage?   Bazile’s view of racial division and interracial marriage seems almost quaint and certainly bigoted and old-fashioned by today’s standards.

Perhaps that’s our challenge here in this century – in this decade.   To overcome the bigotry that prevents a group of individuals from having the same rights as others.  To stand up against this blatant discrimination.  To make right what has gone so very wrong in the state of Maine, so that someday we can look back at this issue, with a shadow of shame, and comment on how foolish and quaint it once seemed to deny people the right to marry.

 

A Vacation in Feet

One of the highlight of my recent trip up to Rangeley was flyfishing — in waders!  Awesome!

wading boots drying in the sun

We took a lot of hikes and woods walks.  Some were very relaxed

bunchberries and toes

Others were a little more intense … and muddy!

mud!

Whatever we were doing, though, it’s always great to be in Rangeley.  I am already looking forward to heading back up in October!

lakeshore

New Loves

This weekend I discovered and rediscovered two new loves: fly-fishing and headstands.

I grew up watching my Dad and brother fly fish and have done my own share of fishing with a Snoopy pole and bobber.  That kind of fishing wasn’t really for me though.  No problems with threading worms onto hooks or gently slipping fish back into the water — my nemesis was boredom.  Cast the line, sit and wait.  Stare at the bobber.  Pick your nose.  Maybe catch a fish.  Fly fishing changes that.  It’s an art, a constant physical activity that demands your full attention at every moment.  It’s a lot like yoga, so it’s no big surprise that I enjoyed it so much.

For Christmas I got a fly fishing “starter kit“: rod, reel, vest and some flies and was enrolled in LL Bean’s Fly Fishing Essentials I for Women on July 18th.  (Side note: I highly, highly recommend L.L. Bean’s Oudoor Discovery School! Great instructors!)  The two other women in the class and I met our instructor Sue and got right down to business.  Four hours of theory, knot tying, and casting practice later I was feeling fairly confident in my skills and totally in love.

Sunday we got to practice a little in the pond in the backyard.  My form totally fell apart in most places as I tried to adapt to a totally different terrain than the smooth, wide-open spaces I learned in the day before.  Most of the fishing time was spent looking like this:

%@^*($!

Later in the day I got a chance to practice my headstands in the yard.  I haven’t been able to practice them at all in the studio, so this was a real treat to rediscover something that I am learning to love.  Inversions and I haven’t always been friends, but I think I’m falling in love (ha!) with headstands.

up up and away!

I didn’t catch any fish and I didn’t get my legs straight, but each activity brought so much joy that it didn”t matter that neither is perfect.  I have a lifetime of fly fishing and headstands in front of me.  It’s doubtful that they’ll ever be perfect no matter how hard I try … and that’s the beauty of it.  Yoga has taught me to find the light in the imperfections and be comfortable and happy where I am — not where I want to be.  Of course I want to be a better fisherman and to get my legs straight up overhead, but the journey is the fun part, not the result.

I hear there’s some killer landlocked salmon at the end of the journey, too.

Back from the Great White North

No, not quite Canada … about 60 minutes from the border by car, though. The holiday break in Rangeley was fantastic, and I didn’t crumble into a tiny, broken pool of humanity at the lack of internet connection. In fact, I’m quite proud of how I did!

What did I do instead?

I went skiing:

Snowshoeing:

Skating:

Watched the deer out the windows:

Celebrated the holiday with silly headgear:

Watched sunsets set the sky on fire:

And contemplated the brevity of life:

Nope. Didn’t miss the internet at all. Which must be the reason I’ve been online since I got home and my eyes feel like their going to fall out of my head. Must be.