Happy Summer Solstice 2011! Best Morning Ever

I can’t say that I’m a fan of 4:45am. Really. Who gets up at 4:45 in the morning except birds, wild things, and parents of small children?

I bumble down the hallway, change my clothes, and drive to the Audubon Center at the foot of Casper Mountain. When I get out of my car the sound of the birds is a symphony beyond all written expression. Unless you’re a total curmudgeon, it’s nearly impossible to not be affected by the sound and flurry of life taking place before sunrise; to not be engulfed by the crisp air, dew on the high grass, the smell of wild flowers and damp earth.

The sun still hasn’t risen, I’m slowly waking, and I head out with a team of 8 other citizen scientists to set up bird banding nets. On the third net check, I retrieve a Yellow Warbler. Holding this wild bird, I’m reminded of how lucky I am; that we are surrounded by miracles and beauty everyday. Today, I get to watch the sun rise holding these blessings in my hand.

Jess holding a Yellow Warbler after recording data

Why I Wake Early

Hello, sun in my face.

Hello, you who made the morning

and spread it over the fields

and into the faces of the tulips

and the nodding morning glories,

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety –

best preacher that ever was,

dear star, that just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever-darkness,

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light –

good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day

in happiness, in kindness.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Jess collecting data on a male Yellow Warbler

Lazuli Bunting- Male

What are you going to do on this amazing first day of summer?

Lesson in Nature #6: What the…?!

A few years ago I worked for the National Park Service on South Bass Island in Lake Erie, Ohio.  After work I’d go for a short run and listen to the cacophony of Red-winged Blackbirds.  One evening I was plodding along, when all of a sudden I heard the familiar call and…WHACK!  I felt something hit the back of my head. “What the…?”  Before I had time to finish my thought I was stunned by another WHACK!  I was being blitzkrieged by 2.5 ounces and pointy beaks.  My instincts kicked in, “Protect the eyes, protect the eyes!”

I stopped for a moment, hunkered down, and then started running in a crouched position with my arms over my face hoping to avoid a live re-enactment of The Birds. Finally, my naturalist brain kicked in and I realized I must have been too close to a nest. I just needed to keep running to get out of the birds’ space and they would go back to their nest and stop attacking my head.

Sometimes we never see things coming and then all of a sudden, WHACK!; an illness, the loss of a job, a sudden flat tire. It’s stunning for a moment.  We may even stop dead in our tracks, our protection mechanisms kicking in, and then our brains and bodies sync up.  It may take 30 seconds, it may take 30 months, but we realize we can’t stay in that stunned place forever.  At some point, we must get going.  It is in this moving on that we end up saving ourselves.

PS- Red-winged Blackbirds really are cool.  Just give them some space.  They have no problem asking for it if you don’t.

Lesson in Nature #5: Do Not Let Yourself Get Puss Heels (And Yes, They Are As Bad As They Sound)

“Exactly, what are puss heels?” you may be asking yourself in trepidatious horror. We’ll get there. Don’t worry. All I can tell you, right now, is that you probably don’t want them. Trust me.

It all started innocently enough. I was excited for my first mountain backpacking trip in the west. I had boots from back east that were broken in, plenty of supplies, and a group of great traveling companions.

About four miles into a twenty-something mile trip I was keenly aware of a burning sensation on my right heel (what’s known as a hotspot for non-hikers).

“No big deal. I’ve had hotspots before. I’ll just check it later,” I thought.

I was with 15 other people and did not want to slow down the group. I did not want to be that person. You know, the one who complains and whines the entire trip. The person who is the reason you don’t make it to camp until 9 or 10 at night.

“Boy, this hurts, but I’m sure we’ll stop soon enough,” I kept telling myself.

When we stopped, I took off my boot and the hotspot on my heel had turned into a quarter size puss ball. Frick. I still had at least another 15 miles to hike, three days in the backcountry, and a lot more uphill until I returned to civilization.

In the course of the next three days I crafted about 16 different types of blister paddings, wrappings, splints, hell, that blister had its own name and mansion of gauze, duct tape, mole skin, and antibiotic ointment. Blisters are not something you want to ignore in the backcountry. I was lucky it did not get infected, but several years later I still have a scar from that blister covering most of my right heel.

How often do you go through life not wanting to say something or speak up for yourself when you start feeling a “hotspot”? How often do you risk your own well-being and let it get to the point where you have puss heels because you don’t want to cause a small disruption with your friends, family, or co-workers?

My advice. Listen to yourself. Stop a little sooner. Check out the irritation. Believe me, dealing with a hotspot is a heck of a lot easier than dealing with puss heels.

Dedicated to my first mountain backpacking buddy, Jess Whitehurst.

Earth Day 2011: Unless

I don’t do well with guilt as a motivator.  I’m assuming you probably don’t either.  It feels terrible to be told that unless you stop brushing your teeth you’re going to be the reason why we have no rivers in the West, unless you stop using toilet paper the infamous red toothed sloth will be extinct in five years, unless you quit your job and join Missionary Life Corp, kids in Africa will starve to death.  Don’t get me wrong.  I believe that there are things happening in the world that need more awareness and tender love and care, but I don’t think shaming and guilt are the ways to cultivate the peace, understanding, and consideration that we ultimately want for the things we care about.  When motivated by guilt we just feel hopeless about the sloth, the toilet paper, the rivers, and the kids; stymied into inaction.

I learned many years ago in Organic Chemistry that like attracts like.   What I’ve noticed since then is that principle extends beyond Chemistry. Yelling and violence tend to attract fear and more yelling and violence.  Calm and understanding attract conversation and more calm and understanding.  If we want something to change or we want to protect something we care about we do need to bring awareness to those things.  However, the energy and intention in which we bring that awareness might be key to it being heard.

On this Earth Day take a moment to look around and acknowledging the elements of the earth that you care about.  Is there a place you love to ride your bike, a local soccer field where your kids play, a small backyard garden where you chill on the weekends, a green parenting group you belong to?  Share these things you love with the people in your life.

When we respect, support, and cherish the things we think are important in our lives we bring awareness.  It’s only with awareness that we bring continued support, hope, change, and understanding.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Happy Earth Day 2011!

Just a few earthy things I love:

• Orion Magazine
• Mary Oliver Poems
• Wyoming Wilderness Association
• Green Bean Babies
• Green Parenting Association
• Outdoor Yoga
• Backpacking
• Soulcraft by Bill Plotkin
• Teton Science Schools
• The Platte River Parkway

If you are interested in supporting eco friendly non-profits and enjoying tips on how to lead a more grounded and centered life click here to find out more about the teleclass, Simply Grounded, I’m holding Thurs 4/28!

Lesson in Nature #4: Don’t Take Your Computer Out In the Rain

It’s true. Both literally and metaphorically.

I expect a lot from things. I want my raincoat to keep me dry and warm in a monsoon with gale force winds while clawing my way through a brier patch. I want to record my ideas on my computer when I’m outside no matter what the weather. I want my husband to read my mind. All very plausible requests, except that they are, maybe, a little unreasonable. It’s one thing to have high expectations. Unreasonable is something totally different.

Unreasonable can get you electrocuted if you insist on using your laptop in a rainstorm (and it’s plugged into an outdoor outlet). Not to mention, that it’s likely going to fry your circuit board.  Unreasonable can get you hypothermia if your raincoat shreds to pieces and you are stuck in a windy monsoon. Unreasonable can end relationships when mind reading is the preferred method of communication.

Notice the expectations you have for yourself, others, your computer, hell, even your cat.  Are they unreasonable?

Some of us need to learn the hard way. I’m one of those people. If you need a litmus test, go ahead, try the computer trick the next time it rains.  I wouldn’t recommend it.  But, Nature will remind you.  It’s a little unreasonable.

Lesson in Nature: #3 Well. I Didn’t See That Coming.

Oh, I heard it though. It sounded like a tribe of banshees outside my backdoor. The radio station announcers chimed in high-wind warnings between news stories. I should have known better, but I decided to go for walk regardless. It was sunny. Clear blue skies. It’s just a little wind. Moving air. What did I have to lose?  Ummm.  Potentially my corneas.

I stepped out of the car and felt as though I had entered an invisible mosh pit.  Seriously?  I wanted to push back, but there was nothing to push.  Plus, you kind of have to be a jerk to push a squirrel or a tree.

“Ok, I can handle this,” I thought. “Just 15 minutes. Some fresh air. Lean into it.”  About seven minutes into this adventure a gust of wind hit me across the face knocking my glasses sideways, causing my eyes to dry, automatically closing, and watering like a sprinkler system.  The wind was so strong I could not re-open my eyes. In my stumbling, teary, blindness a dog appeared from no where, unexpectedly goosed me, and then started growling and barking like I was a raw steak.  What was happening?!  Was I being attacked?  I couldn’t see anything and was spinning around in blind circles trying to get away from Fido.  I’m sure this was very comical from the outside (and in retrospect), but at that moment I was slightly terrified and also baffled that something invisible had started this whole chain of events.

Like the wind this morning; sometimes the most intangible forces are the strongest ones. We don’t see them but we know what they feel like; love, trust, fear, anger, connection, sunshine, wind.  I’m not suggesting you go for a walk on a high-wind warning day, but Nature’s got some great experiences that you’ll never see coming, and I can bet you they’ll be some of the most amazing memories of your life.

That Nature.  She can be quite the prankster sometimes.

Lesson in Nature #2: To Get Nature’s Lessons One Should Probably Go Out…In Nature

I learned this gem sitting at my kitchen table.  Trying to write about nature.  After having been indoors for seven days (except to go to and from my car). Granted, it’s been windy, kind of rainy, my cute slip-on shoes aren’t really cut out for spring in Wyoming, and I can see nature from my window.  But, I was starting to feel like a robot and didn’t realize it until I changed my shoes and went for a short walk this morning.  Amidst the chirping birds and chipper squirrels I was reminded of spring, creation, the sensation of sun on my skin and the slight discomfort of crisp, air on my ears.  I was reminded what it feels like to be alive in this greater scheme of things.

Granted, we all don’t have mountains, oceans, or bike paths in our backyard.  But, we do have a little patch of something; a front or back step, a local park, a city playground.  Go outside for 10-15 minutes a day.  Remind yourself what it feels like to be alive and part of something fabulously grand.  Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

Nature’s pretty cool, I’m sure she’s up for hanging out.

Why Yoga, Nature, Spirit?

Welcome to the Jess Ryan Yoga blog, a forum celebrating our most sacred connections; connection to self, others, spirit, and the natural world.  My yoga practice and my nature practice are one in the same.  In gentle ways, they force me to be present.  In the awareness of a mountain stream’s quiet ripples or the slight pause between my breaths, I access the present moment connecting to grace, Source; something bigger than myself.  On a daily basis we are inundated with artificial stimuli, overlooking simple gifts given us in this present moment; our breath, our spirit, a sunset, dew laden grass.  It is in this present moment when our lives occur, yet, we constantly miss it, stuck in regret about things we didn’t accomplish or worrying about how to complete our to-do lists.  This forum is about learning to connect to the moment with the uncomplicated tools we have all been given.  Nothing brings us into the present faster than paying attention to our breath, our physical body, and the natural world.  Spend some time outside, go within, and see what unfolds.

Lesson in Nature #1: Nature Doesn’t Give a Flying Leap Who You Are Or How Many Friends You Have on Facebook

Lessons in Nature

I have learned a lot of things in nature; some practical, some metaphorical, some humbling and grounding.  Things that are easy to forget because we have created a concrete reality based on jobs, houses, status, and stuff.  We’ve forgotten how to be outside, how to be ourselves, and that we are part of something bigger.  Nothing like the forces of nature to remind us…

Lesson in Nature #1

Nature Doesn’t Give a Flying Leap Who You Are Or How Many Friends You Have on Facebook

The trees, majestic mountains, rolling oceans, awe inducing animals are all unaware of how cool, popular, or successful you are. Nature also doesn’t seem to care about how insecure you might feel, your bad self-esteem moments, or your lack of current employment; a potential bruise to the ego, but completely freeing in many ways.  You can be exactly who you are in nature.  No need to impress. No need to put on false pretenses and pretend to be someone you’re not. Hell, you don’t even need to put on make-up or do your hair. The birds don’t care, nor do the oceans, trees, or animals.  You’re perfect in this greater scheme of things.  Don’t forget it.

Stay tuned for more of Nature’s lessons.  She’s wise peeps.

Yoga Pose of the Month: Crescent Pose

Every month I will demonstrate a yoga asana (pose) in hopes that you will join me from your home, work, or where ever you are in the moment.  With each asana I will list several benefits and tips for integrating the pose into your yoga practice and daily life.  My intent it to make yoga accessible to everyone, to help you get more from my podcasts (for you visual learners), and to share a little stress relief for free! Enjoy.

This month’s asana is Crescent Pose or Anjaneyasana in Sanskrit.

Enjoy the sounds of Garden Creek and the birds!

Benefits:

• Improves balance
• Strengthens glute, quadriceps and knee stabilizer muscles
• Stretches hip flexors
• Strengthens spine, shoulder, and upper back muscles
• Builds stamina & endurance in thigh and core muscles
• Stimulates abdominal organs and digestion
• Improves balance and concentration
• Cultivates a sense of groundedness

Contraindications and Caution:

• Medical conditions affecting balance
• Tendonitis or bursitis in the shoulders – as the arms are raised, keep hands open and arms parallel to avoid compression into the shoulder joint
• Neck problems-maintain eyes forward and chin parallel to the ground

Tips:

• If you have difficulty balancing  decrease the distance between your feet several inches.  Keep the knee over the heel and not over the toes.
• For more of a challenge, move the left heel back several inches and bring the right thigh parallel with the floor. Keep the right knee over the heel and keep the tailbone reaching lightly under.