A Fond Memory of Vienna's Mayor Jane Seeman

Mayor Seeman passed away on February 24, 2013.

This piece was printed shortly afterward in the Body Grace's March newsletter.

Miss Jane was Nicole’s, my oldest daughter’s, first preschool teacher at the Vienna Community Center. I had just given birth to my second daughter, Allison, in the fall of 1988 and Nicole started attending shortly before then; she was 2-1/2 years old.

Nicole loved wearing dresses. One hectic morning she picked out a red jumper that my mom had made for her, a white blouse, cute frilly white socks and her black patent leather Mary Jane shoes, and off we went to drop her off at preschool. As always Miss Jane was there to welcome everyone at the door so I dropped Nicole off and came home looking forward to putting Allison and me down for a nap, but as I walked by Nicole’s bedroom door I noticed something sitting on her bed. What I found, after further inspection, was her underpants. Yes, I had just sent my fancy dressed daughter to preschool commando style!

Mortified, I frantically grabbed Nicole’s underpants, placed Allison back into her car seat, and drove back to the community center.  I peeked in the window on the preschool door, caught Miss Jane’s eye and waved for her to come out.  Once she stepped out into the hallway, I told her how embarrassed I was to have sent Nicole to school without the proper undergarments, and in a down-to-earth, non-judgmental way this is what she said to me: “You know Mrs. Crerie, Nicole was really distressed at the beginning of class and when I asked her what the problem was, she told me that her Mommy had forgotten to put underpants on her. I told her I would give you a call to bring some to her, and that sometimes Mommies forget things, especially when there is a new baby in the house, but in the meantime, until you could get here, to just keep her legs together.” I smiled – how could you not – nodded, thanked her for calming Nicole down, and her good advice. When I glanced into the room, sure enough, while all the other kids were sitting crossed-legged in their share circle, Nicole was sitting very calmly with her legs straight out, glued shut. I took Nicole to the restroom, put on her underpants, and I apologized to her for my forgetfulness, as well as for any future issues I may have caused, which at the time she probably did not understand.  To this day Nicole has very fond memories of being in Miss Jane’s preschool class for two years. Yes, she does remember being distaught about not having underpants on, however she did forgive me, and I can attribute that to the sweet way in which Miss Jane handled the situation.

Fast forward twenty something years later and as I am unlocking the studio door one afternoon, Mayor Jane drives up to drop off her granddaughter for a teen yoga class. We chatted for a moment and she asked about my daughters, which I was so impressed by. I told her that Nicole is a mom now, and we both agreed that time flies by too quickly but that being a grandparent is wonderful! Jane asked me how my business was doing. She truly cared about the success of the small businesses in the community, and I for one, appreciated that. I will miss Jane Seeman. She loved Vienna, and it showed. When I think of her, I will not only think of Mayor Jane Seeman, a woman who believed in a strong community, but I will also fondly remember Miss Jane, a caring, kind and compassionate preschool teacher, who helped a little girl and a young mother through an awkward situation. 

My Wisdom Teeth's Wisdom

“Little by little we human beings are confronted with situations that give us more and more clues that we aren’t perfect.” – Mister Rogers

Well, this is embarrassing; I forgot to breathe in a highly stressful situation. How many times in my yoga classes have I said, “Slow, deep breathing helps regulate the heartbeat, decrease the blood pressure, and calm the nervous system”?  It is a safe bet to say at least weekly.

I decided to have all four of my wisdom teeth extracted over the holiday break after having some issues with them this past year. General anesthesia would be a new experience for me, causing me a lot of anxiety.  Knowing this, I focused on taking good care of myself before the appointment. I spent time practicing calming breathing techniques, sitting more in meditation, and making sure my diet was as clean and healthy as possible, not always easy around the holidays! But even with all my self-care, on the morning of the appointment I felt extremely nervous and scared. Fear is a necessary emotion. On the plus side it allows us to protect ourselves when we feel threatened, but it can also paralyze us, keep us stagnant, make us mute, and in my case, deaf.

It would have been helpful, sitting in the procedure chair, if I had listened to my own voice telling me to take slow deep breaths, but I was deaf to it, and instead became fixated on the heart rate monitor bleeping crazy rhythms, watching my blood pressure increase and getting worried that the doctor would not find a vein in my arm for an IV. I was getting upset with myself for not being able to control my body’s reaction to a stressful situation. What I needed was a teacher’s voice, a voice of reason, and that came from my youngest daughter, Allison, who was sitting in the chair beside me and witnessing her mom losing her composure. One of my last vivid memories of the morning was Allison putting her hand on my leg and saying in a calm voice, “Mom, look at me. Let’s breathe together.”  So we did.

During the next couple of days, healing took place in two different realms—my mouth and my ego. Boy, did I beat myself up emotionally!  I felt like a hypocrite. How could I not practice what I preach? Should I even be teaching yoga? Really, how embarrassing for a yoga teacher to fall apart like that! My thoughts were not pretty. And then I serendipitously came across the above quote from one of my favorite spirit guides, Mister Rogers. His words, as they so often do, pulled me out of my hypercritical attitude. I decided to give myself a break and practice another one of my teachings: “letting go of judgment.” I remembered times in my life where I had remained calm during major life storms, and that helped me feel better about myself. I am human, after all, and even yoga teachers have dark moments!

We are all teachers; we are all students. It is learning to step into the role being presented to us and accept it with humility and grace that make us a better human being. I needed a teacher the morning of my procedure. My daughter saw that, assumed that role, and in a loving, calm way helped me rediscover my breath again. I am so grateful to her and for her.

Life always gives us exactly the teacher we need at every moment. This includes every mosquito, every misfortune, every red light, every traffic jam, every obnoxious supervisor (or employee), every illness, every loss, every moment of joy or depression, every addiction, every piece of garbage, every breath. Every moment is the guru. – Joko Beck, American Zen teacher (March 27, 1917 – June 15, 2011)

Bubbles and Butterflies

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you.”

“Sometimes,' said Pooh, 'the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

 - A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

It has been over two years since my mom’s death, and I’ve been missing her more than usual lately. Maybe it was my grandson, Austin’s, first birthday at the end of August triggering these feelings of unresolved issues, and surely it is just part of the grieving process. Whatever the reason, I am learning to allow myself the time to absorb my feelings and work through them, which led me to my mom’s grave to sit and meditate recently. My Mom loved butterflies. We released butterflies at her memorial service, there is a butterfly carved into her grave marker and my sister and brother-in-law hung a butterfly chime on a tree branch above her grave. As I was leaving her gravesite a light breeze struck it, sending me on my way with a sweet tinkling sound.

Austin has been my mindfulness teacher lately. I have been rediscovering the world through his eyes. Every acorn fascinates him; we followed a single worm crawling across our porch, down the stairs and into the yard one morning; he delights in the sound of the leaves crunching under our feet when we “march” home from the park; and folks, if you have never gotten on your back to look up at the sky and autumn leaves, may I encourage you to do so! However the biggest lesson he taught me this summer was how to blow bubbles the “right” way.

Austin loves bubbles! I started blowing bubbles for him in the early springtime. We would sit outside and I would blow as many bubbles as I could, because we all know that more is better, (right?) until I stopped and observed him. He was not interested in the amount of bubbles; the flight of each bubble captivated him. So I slowed down.  I would blow one wand-worth and then we would watch each bubble do its thing until the last one popped, and then the whole process would start all over again, one…bubble…at…a…time.

It was towards the end of summer, during one of our bubble blowing sessions that I noticed the yellow butterfly. Austin noticed it, too, because when the last bubble popped, we were no longer interested in bubbles we were now watching the butterfly. This went on for the next couple of weeks, the yellow butterfly getting closer to us each week. On the fourth week, a blue butterfly visited us and sat on the porch railing, so close I could have reached out and touched it. Both Austin and I instinctively knew that stillness was the name of the game now as we watched the butterfly sitting there with its delicate wings gently fluttering, looking at us, too. It was in that moment that I felt a strong connection to my mom, and then it hit me; the butterflies were a sign, a poignant reminder that even though we are apart, my mom is always with me; she will always be my mom, a bond that cannot be broken. 

The butterfly sat on the railing for a few minutes, and then just like the bubbles, she glided away out of sight, continuing on her way. But I have the faith to know that her journey did not end on the porch railing, that she would move onward even though I could no longer see her; just like my mom. Less is more sometimes.

It took a bottle of bubbles and my grandson to help teach me that, and two beautiful butterflies to remind me of the metamorphosis we all go through. Our life journey from infant to adult is full of transformations, and maybe our journey never really dies, it simply changes into a new existence.

A Haiku for you and the August schedule

Cheers to Another Three Years!

 

Sitting on the beach,

Thoughts of Body Grace and you,

Writing a haiku.

 

Three years behind us,

Thanks to you, three more to come,

Flowing and growing.

 

Our logo, a tree,

Rooted in community,

Branching out with love.

 

Your feedback welcomed;

Your inner light respected;

Your support cherished.

 

With love and gratitude,

Jan

 

  

We are heading into the home stretch of summer and

there are some class cancellations this month.

Enjoy these final weeks of summertime!

 

Monday, August 12, 9:45 am Flow Yoga 1 is cancelled.

 

No Thursday, 11:00 am Slow Flow class August 15 and 22.

This class will resume September 5.

 

 

Body Grace will be closed Monday, August 26 – Monday, September 2.

Mister Rogers to the Rescue

This is being reprinted from the Body Grace December newsletter

"Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas." Calvin Coolidge

I stumbled upon this quote a few weeks ago and loved the sentiment behind it

that the real spirit of Christmas should be practiced all year long. This will be the last email I send you in 2012 so I want to wish everyone peace, joy and goodwill, not just during the holiday season, but everyday. I also want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for your support during 2012. It has been an amazing year at Body Grace and we have a lot to look forward to in 2013!

But I am also writing this with a heavy heart; sorry if I’m not feeling too Christmas-y right now.  At a time when I should be enjoying the lights and the festivities of the season, I feel saddened that we are once again grieving the loss of innocent lives in another mass shooting during a time that should be filled

 with joy.  Oh sure, I could vent my anger, putting blame here and there, but I think there is enough of that going around, don’t you?  What I needed was to find some light, and I found it in a quote by Mister Rogers, a man who loved and respected children with all his heart while he was here on earth, and who epitomizes the Christmas spirit:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster”, I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”

Fred Rogers

I’m sure that during the next several days I will continue to shed more tears and pray my little heart out during my meditation time, but in the spirit of Christmas, I will keep my eyes open for all those many caring people in the world who are practicing peace, goodwill and mercy. There is a reason why there is a tree of ‘Love’ painted in the stairwell, because I believe in the end, love will outshine evil and darkness.

Wishing you a season of light and love,

Jan

My Grandson

Austin William Beech, born Aug. 31, 3:29 am, 8 lb 5 oz.

Honoring Trees

TREES

by Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

Obviously, I love trees! The Body Grace logo and décor is tree-inspired, and the first impression of the studio is the ‘love’ tree painted in the stairwell. I have loved trees for as long as I can remember. As a little girl I couldn’t wait to play out in the woods with my dolls. When I was a teen getting into drawing and painting, I would spend many hours with my sketchpad out in the woods. In painting class, I would bring in pictures of trees with gnarly, moss-covered roots to paint, frustrating my teachers who would say, “enough with the trees, Jan” and then make me paint a boring still life.

My family is getting ready to put my mom’s house on the market. Recently while I was sitting outside on the front stoop taking a break from cleaning, I realized how much I will miss the big, old maple tree in the front yard. It’s a magnificent tree with an amazing root system and a beautiful shape. That tree has grown up with me. It saw me through my awkward, pudgy, crooked teeth and cat-eye glasses elementary school days; put up with my rebellious, alcohol- and drug-induced teen years; and has had the privilege of having my own two daughters play make believe under it when they were little. I only hope that whoever buys the house will love that tree as much as my mom and my family did.

Saying good-bye to my mom almost a year ago, (whose final resting place is underneath a big, nurturing tree), and now getting ready to say good-bye to our family’s home, has all been a process of letting go, which brings me to the Body Grace logo. Have you ever noticed the two floating leaves? Those leaves are what made me fall in love with the design. They represent not only graceful movement, (which by the way, is what we want in our bodies; bodies that are strong and stable, but also move with ease and lightness) but the leaves also symbolize letting go and giving back. As they fall to the ground, they are giving back to the earth.

Earth Day is Sunday, April 22 but Body Grace will be celebrating Earth Week through Saturday, April 28. I will donate $2.00 to the Environmental Defense Fund for every paying student who comes to take a class during the week. This will be one small way of giving back to the earth.

“To treat the physical world as sacred is to honor what you do with your body and environment, the food you eat, the things you buy and your means of livelihood.”

– Anodea Judith, Ph.D. therapist and educator.

Taking the time to connect to Mother Nature is another way to show we care. Notice how delicate the light is when the sun shines through the laciness of new leaves on the trees, the many colors of the flowering shrubs and flowers, the chorus of birds singing early in the morning. Caring for the earth reflects how we take care of ourselves. I want to have lots of trees for my grandchildren to play under and grow up with, just like I had my maple tree.

Warmly,

Jan