Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Randomness

One of the advantages of walking a lot--5, 6, or 7 miles a day--is seeing all kinds of crazy, random things.  Here's something that struck my eye on a recent walk through Chelsea:

Not a National Landmark


Back in the day, when I ate a lot of processed foods, I knocked back quite a few Thomas' English Muffins, usually slathered in butter and topped off with raspberry jam.  Today one of those muffins--without anything on it--contains 200 mg of sodium. . . or 8 percent of daily caloric intake.  No wonder I was able to lose 20 pounds when I stopped eating processed foods.

I wonder what the muffins from 1880 were really like.  Scones?  According to the Thomas' website, Mr. Samuel Thomas, who emigrated from England, grilled the muffins, which gave them their special flavor. 

Thomas' is now a part of a multinational corporation called Bimbo Bakeries.  What's in a name? 



Friday, April 25, 2014

Still Stepping It Up!

Yesterday Fitbit notified me that I had walked 500 miles since January 8 of this year.   Just one month ago today I increased my daily steps goal from 10,000 to 12,500 and my stairs goal from 35 to 40 per day.  I have met and often exceeded my steps goal on all but 5 of the past 30 days. Distance covered over 30 days is 176.9 miles.  

I climbed 40 floors or more on 15 of the 30 days.  I had 7 days when I climbed more than 50 floors--and one when I hit 101.   I don't like doing too many floors over consecutive days, as I don't want to injure myself.  So far, so good.  My goal for the next month is to keep the same numbers and try to improve it by 5 percent.  I'll do my best to hit my floors goal of 40 flights more consistently and try not to have days that are over 75 floors.  

With spring comes new parts of the parks to explore and new treasures to discover.  Now that there are more people in Fort Tryon Park  I am feeling a little safer about wandering into different areas, specifically the Alpine Garden.  


The Alpine Gardens are on the east side of the Park, not far from Broadway.  In recent years there has been an attempt at restoring the original Olmstead Brother's design.  At the bottom of the steps the first of the spring ephemerals, such as mertensia virginica,  Virginia bluebells are starting to flower:



Along the way I saw the first fiddleheads of the season and unfurled hosta.   At the top of the "Yankee Doodle Steps," so named because George Washington's troops were encamped in this area during the Revolutionary War, you'll  find a lovely magnolia tree and grape hyacinths in bloom.


There are lots more steps to climb and explore in the Alpine Garden.  Every day brings a new surprise.  Step it up!



Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Spaziergang

"We'll do some work in the garden and then we'll go to the beach for Spaziergang," Uncle Ed said as we were finishing up our lunch of avocado and cheddar cheese on whole wheat bread.

Spaziergang?  I had never heard the word. Something exotic to eat? A Pacific fish?  My husband offered no help. The puzzled look on my face lead to an explanation:  a daily constitutional.  Ever since, my husband and I have referred to the walks we take as spaziergang.

Uncle Ed, my husband's uncle, was born in Germany, where rambling walks are the national pastime, in the 1920s.    He  emigrated to America while still a teenager, escaping the Third Reich's grip over his homeland. He joined the US Army and liberated his home town, working in intelligence.  After the war he went to college and then law school, eventually settling in San Francisco.  My husband admired Uncle Ed, who was hipper than his father.  Ed had hung out with the Beats in the Fifties, owned an extensive classical and jazz record collection, and had meditated with Alan Watts.  By the time I met, Ed,  a bachelor, he was in his early 60s.  He had retired to  a modest house with a significant garden in a small town in Marin County.   

Uncle Ed took spaziergang on Dillon Beach, about a 20-minute drive from his home. The beach was a mile long, resulting in a two-mile walk out and back.  He brought an empty garbage bag with him and nearly always filled it with the usual beach detritus.  I remember once being out on the beach with Ed when he ran into his spiritual teacher at the time, Eknath Easwaren.  He also took his daily constitutional on Dillon Beach.  Easwaren taught and practiced "passage meditation," where the individual memorizes a passage from a spiritual text, repeating over and over to focus the mind, improve character, and increase consciousness.  Ed, like many of Easwaren's students, began this practice by learning "The Prayer of St. Francis."  Ed  had installed a stained-glass window with an image of St. Francis on the front door of his home.   

Ed died at 85 of kidney failure.  My husband was the executor of his estate, and it fell to us to go through his effects before they were all donated to Goodwill.  We thought for sure that we would find something--an unfinished novel, war diaries, a stack of letters from a lover--that would unlock the secret that Ed seemed to carry with him.  We sorted through the many books in his libarary in English and German.  We glanced through the card catalogue he had created for his collection of records, tapes, and cd's.   We uncovered receipts from garden purchases and chamber music subscriptions.  We found he had collected several volumes of his own  favorite aphorisms, culled from the world's great writers and thinkers.  We found notes Ed had written to himself, reminding him to walk to the store to get lunch, for instance, signs that his dementia was more advanced than we knew.

My sister-in-law had great experience sorting through the lives of older people.  She had advised me to ". . . look in the pockets.  That's where people put their treasures."  We weren't looking for treasure, as Ed eschewed all but the simplest of necessities. We were looking for answers.  In the last hours at his house, my eyes landed on a a dirty, old, insulated jacket hanging on a hook in the mudroom:  the Dillon Beach jacket.   Digging my fingers into the deep pockets I discovered a folded, well-worn,  two page, typewritten document.  I recognized the font of Ed's typewriter.

The text was a Zen poem, "The Xinxin Ming."  I believe that Ed edited this particular version of the poem himself, as three translators are credited:  R. H. Blyth, D. T. Suzuki, and Arthur Waley. My limited understanding is that the text was written during the Tang dynasty and that it bridges Buddhism and Taoism.   Here are the first, the second-to-last, and the last stanzas:

There is nothing difficult about the Great Way
if you avoid choosing!
Only when you neither love nor hate,
does it appear in all clarity.
A hair's breath of deviation from it,
and a deep gulf is set between heaven and earth.
If you want to see it clearly,
do not be anti or pro anything.
The conflict of longing and loathing,
this is the disease of the mind.
Not knowing the profound meaning of things,
we disturb our (original) peace of mind to no purpose.

In the realm of Oneness, there is neither "other" nor "self."
To access this reality, intone "tat tvam asi"  (Thou art that.  Not two.)
In this reality, there are no separate things,
yet all thing are included.
The enlightened through the ages have entered into this Reality;
it is beyond time and space.
One instant is ten thousand years;
whether we see it or fail to see it,
it is manifest always and everywhere.
The small is as the very large when boundaries are forgotten;
the very large is as the very small when its outlines are not seen.
What is, is not;  what is not, is.
If you have not realized this, do not tarry.
One in all, all in one, if only this is realized,
no more need to worry about your not being perfect!

The believing mind is not divided,
and the undivided is the believing mind.
This is where words fail,
for it is not of the past, future, or present.

Ed continued to walk on Dillon Beach until the last few months of his life.  Eventually, picking up a sandwich at  the general store and the mail at the post office an eighth of a mile from home served as spaziergang enough.  Formal and private to the end, only the visiting nurse he had arranged for  knew how sick he would become.  As we scattered his ashes on the hillside behind his house, in the dry grass of August in Marin County, the meaning of spaziergang began to be revealed.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Pebbles

Thich Nhat Hanh, the Zen Buddhist master, poet, and peace activist, has a knack for creating short, potent meditations that are easy to follow.  His followers address him as Thay, which means teacher.  He recently released his "pebble" meditation on Sound Cloud.  In this meditation, Nhat Hanh recommends we cultivate four qualities  to create happiness in our lives. The pebbles symbolize  the four qualities:  freshness, stability, tranquility, and freedom.

The Pebble meditation can be taught to children. It can be practiced  sitting or walking, with or without pebbles.  Here is a link to the audio recording, as you will want to receive the teaching directly. https://soundcloud.com/thichnhathanh/four-qualities-of-happiness


Breathing in, I see myself as a flower.
Breathing out, I feel fresh.


Inhale, Flower.
Exhale, Fresh.



Flower.
Fresh.






        Breathing in,
        I see myself as a Mountain. 
        Breathing out, I feel Stable.


        Inhale, Mountain.
        Exhale,  Stability.


         Mountain.
         Stability.






Breathing in, I see myself as Still Water
Breathing out, I reflect Tranquility.

Inhale, Still Water.
Exhale, Tranquility.


Still Water.
Tranquility.








Breathing in, I see myself as Space.
Breathing out, I feel Free.


Inhale, Space.
Exhale, Freedom.


Space.
Freedom.


Sometimes when I am walking I set an intention to focus on just one of the qualities, which ever one resonates the most with me at that moment.  Other times I repeat all four stanzas several times over.  Share your experience of this practice with me.




Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Personal Best!

Have you been stepping it up?

I have.  Yesterday I logged 21,600 steps, a personal best.  I walked 9.06 miles, half in Northern Manhattan and half in Chelsea, the West Village, and Soho.  The hills around home, plus a few subway stair climbs, brought my floors total to 48.  My Fitbit is on fire!

I've been stepping it up in NYC Parks, including Fort Tryon Park, where these beautiful old granite steps were among the many I climbed yesterday.

Stone steps near the Heather Garden

Can you imagine how many steps were logged by the people who built these steps?  Up and down, and up and down, measuring before the stone was even ordered.  Preparing  the site for the steps. Getting the granite to the site. Cutting the granite. Fitting the stones.  It's mind boggling how much work was involved in the creation of this magnificent park.  I honor the energy of those who designed, engineered, built, and maintain Fort Tryon Park.  Their efforts inspire me to keep stepping it up.