615.419.3604 hilarylindsayyoga@gmail.com

Light Peeks Through the Cracks of Our Broken Home

The Inauguration of Joe Biden 2021 Spring air teases the forsythia and bluebirds forward. The white cold light of winter still shines slantingly through my Southern facing windows this early dawn. It will soon shift to the northern side of this house and morning will be less of a call to attention as the days drift on for hours, eventually bleeding into night. On this day that Donald Trump departs he will take despair with him. He will carry the crushing weight of hate away on the country’s helicopter. His departure will unclog the suffocating sludge of contention that has sucked the oxygen from our people. It will feel that way for some of us. Some of us will follow the fumes kicked up by his dust, hoping to stay in his reality star story. Some will choose lies but most will roll over with exhaustion hoping for an unbroken rest now that he’s been replaced by a human being whether it be in defeat of their vote or victory. Will we emerge from the bunker rolls of toilet paper and paper towels to wonder at our prison walls? Will we stare in confusion at the storehouse of swabs, sanitizers, soaps and wipes stuffed into corners? Will we ever look at a communal bowl of food without horror? Will we find the old friends waiting and pick up the pieces as they’d never broken? What do our jobs that were lost mean now? Were we necessary and is there a place for us? What do the jobs we’ve done from home feel like when we take them back to...

Broken Yogi 2020

Yoga combats arthritis, scoliosis, osteoporosis, imbalances, muscle weakness, pain and mental suffering. Or it increases it. Everything is the result of how you’re made and how you do things. And then there is how you are guided to manage these things. Organization, meaning how our body organizes itself, is key but we are mostly messy and subject to outside opinions of “cleanliness”. In yoga cleanliness is not described as the opposite of dirty but an inner shine. It is a component of a larger picture of contentment. In the late eighties and nineties many of us yoga enthusiasts were taught to invite discomfort, to force ourselves past normal range of motion, to work till the breath was ragged and then work to control that breath. It was stimulating, emotionally revealing, challenging in the best of ways. It did feel like making diamonds from carbon. Yoga was young in the U.S.. We were young. For many bodies that was fine until time changed those bodies and the practice naturally evolved with aging. For some bodies that was fine until it wasn’t and it was too late to undo the damage. About 25 years ago I began to feel the effects of pushing my body to the limit. In fairness I’d been told by a rheumatologist that my ligaments lacked integrity and yoga was the worst thing my body could do. It would destroy me. I discounted that at a time when movement came so easily and yoga was a dance that satisfied me wholly. I probably should have stuck to my own practice of dance incorporating yoga as that never...

We Are the People We Will Become

  We identify ourselves with some certainty. Smart, twitchy, resourceful, stubborn, kind, hard working, easy going, generous, like that. Is that it? Is it absolute? Seeds of change are dormant in all life forms. Both possibilities and pandemic. Stress forces them to mutate. Forces  adaptation. All life forms wired to survive.    Dis-ease threatens and unease arises. We change our habits. But also our behavior. What happens in reaction?   In yoga, once dormant comes to life with deliberate breath and movement. We name it “consciousness”. Knocks on the door and then breaks it down. This knowingness challenges our opinion of truth.   Forget who we were before this terrible tempest. Crisis now an opportunity. For curiosity. Respective human and humaneness magnified. Who are you?   Close your eyes. Repeat “I am” to yourself again and again. I am…….. What shows up? Keep going until nothing else comes up. Until “I am” is all. And...

PEANUT BUTTER CHOCOLATE SHORTBREAD BAR

Hey All, Here is a lovely recipe from The Sprouted Kitchen. They look so darn good. I thought it was worth sharing as the rain and safe shelter keep us home during this mysterious and nerve racking time. It seems like I mostly bake and eat these past two weeks with a dash of yoga and dog walking to boot. I will make this with unbleached white flour and coconut flour as that is what I have here. I rarely follow recipes exactly anyway. My favorite baking chocolate these days are Enjoy Life dark chocolate morsels.  The other day I used Whole Foods organic butter rounds with peanut butter sandwiched in between and dipped them in melted chocolate. Left them on the front porch to firm on a baking sheet with parchment paper. Heaven. Anyway, The Sprouted Kitchen sent this out and if you like healthy baking you might go subscribe to them directly. Happy Snacking, Love, Hilary PEANUT BUTTER CHOCOLATE SHORTBREAD BARS 16 small squares Ingredients for the CRUST 1/2 cup coconut flour 1/2 cup almond flour 1/2 cup oats 1/3 cup coconut oil 2 Tbsp. maple syrup 1 tsp. vanilla extract Pinch of salt NUT BUTTER LAYER ¾-1 cup favorite natural nut butter 3 Tbsp. maple syrup CHOCOLATE LAYER 7 oz. chocolate, chopped 2 Tbsp. coconut oil or coconut butter Flaky salt, to finish Instructions Line an 8” square dish with parchment paper for easy removal. Preheat the oven to 325’. In a food processor, combine the coconut flour, almond flour, oats, coconut oil, maple, vanilla and salt and pulse a few times to combine. Don’t overdo...

Covid 19 Wipes Out the Nasty Mantra I’m Soooo Busy

Two weeks ago if I asked what’s new with you, you would say, “I’ve been so busy.” Redundancy for our times: “Sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been covered up.” “You were on my list to call today!” ( Damn that’s cold. I’m a spot on the list to be remembered.) I too say, I’ve been thinking about you which I do instead of checking in. Maybe like me, you have nothing to say of importance, nothing is new, we would only complain or bore someone. So we just think of them. We’ve taken each other for granted. Worried over minutiae, Scrambled to organize time distracted by social media in between a bevy of offerings to do everything imaginable at all times. So much freedom, so much space, so much opportunity it’s impossible to find clear and present boundaries for humanness. Though I’ve prayed for the world to stay still long enough to get my breath all I do now is hold mine hoping no one I love loses theirs. The boundaries feel less like security than a noose. I am a happy recluse in the best of times. The best means I chose it. The best means I am self centered because all around me is secure with me being that way. I am making my way to a best of times mentality. A slow slog. Captivity is easier now than the intro to that. I wonder if that’s how the accused feel waiting for a trial that will surely result in incarceration. Scrambling like impaired ants to consider an uncertain future except the loss of choice and resources....