Enjoying Sackville

A couple of weeks ago we spent a warm late summer day celebrating the arts and enjoying the colours in Sackville.

Sackville is a picture postcard heritage town on the Tantramar marsh at the eastern edge of New Brunswick.  This print by Robert Rutherford, seen at Fog Forest Gallery,  is of the Tantramar River

Compact, welcoming and easy to walk around, it exudes a great feel of community, combining heritage and culture with academic excellence. Home to Mount Allison University with its complex of century-old and sympathetic contemporary buildings, Sackville was Cultural Capital of Canada in 2008 and one of the top ten finalists in the 2011 Cultural Centres of the Maritimes.

First stop was the Owens Art Gallery, the oldest university art galley in Canada. Outside a mixed media installation ‘Salt/Marsh’ by John McEwen,  features two classical urns symbolising culture and a wolf representing the natural beauty of the area.

 Current exhibitions on our visit included a traditional Salon hanging of more than one hundred works. Upstairs an intriguing ‘Paper Doll’ installation of mixed media ‘clothing’ with a collection of cut-out paper dolls and their costumes, providing a fascinating side-light on poet Sylvia Plath’s skill as an artist.

The Owens permanent collection of more than 3,000 works, has paintings and sketches by the international artists such as Romney, Whistler and Alma-Tadema; Group of Seven painters and noted Canadian artists such as Michael Snow, Alex Colville, Christopher Pratt, Mary Pratt. The last three former Mount A. faculty members or alumni.

Time for just one more gallery; it was down to Bridge Street and the small gem that is Fog Forest Gallery. Catching my eye here was pottery by Ghita Levin, Peter Thomas and Mary Swan. Tiny, embellished boxes from Janine O-Reilly and the fluid finely wrought mesh sculptural figures of Dawn McMutt were also attention noteworthy.

Walking around this charming town there were many vignettes to photograph and interesting shops to peek inside.

Time to spare before the evening recital we sat, enjoying soft late-day sun, by Swan Pond, reading and talking about our day.

Then enjoyed dessert and tea at the new Dancing Dog restaurant on Bridge Street.

Then we returned to the campus for a recital in the newly refurbished Brunton Auditorium performed by  Mount A.  faculty,  soprano Helen Pridmore and pianist David Rogosin. ‘ Songs of Love and Remembrance’ was an eclectic programme of songs by Debussy and Charpentier; the premiere of ‘In the Stillness of Breathing’ by contemporary composer Helen Hall, the Canadian premiere of ‘Soft Morning’ by James Harley and a third new work, Martin Arnold’s ‘Janet.

Hall’s composition was fascinating in its use of breath and silence,  with Helen Pridmore’s voice flowing easily from tenderness to dramatic insistence.  Despite the qualities of Pridmore’s voice, so well suited to the demands and surprises of modern music, ‘Janet’ was rather visually distracting with the use of a laptop, speakers and a tangle of wires on stage.

Looking at the Department of Music calendar for the coming months there are many excellent concerts, recitals and choral music to look forward to, many at amazingly reasonable ticket prices, some are even free.  

Sackville offers wonderful gifts of the necessary arts. We’ll definitely be driving the highway again very soon.

A Weekend of Healing. Touched With Grace

Healing has many faces and healing has no language barriers.

Last Friday I spent the day in Dieppe at a Breast Cancer Conference – Colloque CSNB - for breast cancer survivors.  Saturday I was in Nova Scotia, part of a group studying Reiki.

Breast cancer survivors, health professionals and executives attended the Conference. As well as telling them about the Warrior Women  - Yoga for Breast Cancer programme I offer, with assistance from the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation, I led the registrants and speakers in some meditative breathing, stretching and yoga flows between sessions.

Sitting for an hour or so tightens and stiffens any body, however informative the discussion. With translation help, sometimes, I learned later, with more humorous additons than my original comments, we shared some stretches that can be done anywhere to release tension on the body, then practiced a Warrior-Goddess flow of postures. All these women are truly Warriors and Goddess, which is why I created this particular flow for ladies who come to our classes. It’s always available to share with groups such as those gathered on Friday.

Early Saturday I was on the highway driving to Shinimicas just east of Amherst, for another day with Reiki master Gretchen Smith. Noting as I drove the difference a week or two had made in the foliage colours.

Amherst, first settled in 1764, was a thriving regional centre in the late 19th century. Evidence of this prosperity remains in the fine large Victorian and Edwardian homes seen along Victoria Street East, leading toward the rural farming area of my destination.

Reiki, a gentle touch of hands that transfers energy from the practitioner to a client, originated and developed in Japan in the early 20^th century by Dr. Mikao Usui.

Seven of us gathered round the table at Gretchen’s farmhouse where she and her family have a herd of cattle including my favourite Herefords, plus horses. The rain flowed all day but inside the room was filled with warmth, laughter, inquiry and a deep sense of healing. Gretchen served a flavourful, nourishing lunch.

We talked, a little about ourselves and backgrounds, why we were interested in studying Reiki and hoped to use in our lives and practice. We received an attunement, an initiation ceremony during which a Reiki master transmits energy to each student to open up our inner healing channels an energy flow.  Gretchen played her flute and each of us realised a special, individual experience – in mine I was encircled by all the pets, mostly cats, I have ever loved and been loved by.

Afterwards we practiced offering a sitting treatment to each other. Gretchen then demonstrated the hand positions and sequence before we took turns working on each other.

Finally we passed the sacred feather shared our thoughts on the day, offered thanks and each returned home, filled with new energy, peace and a touch of grace.

Navasana – Boat Pose. Yoga and Sailing in Chester, N. S.

The weekend of September 16 to 18 was spent in a kind of heaven.

 Invigorating autumnal weather glowed as about 40 yoga teachers and students from all over the Atlantic area, Montréal and Atlanta, Georgia, arrived in Chester. The reason?  Another weekend with Fr. Joe.

 This was my third year to experience and share in his intensely mindful and personally disciplined yoga teaching in the Iyengar tradition. His fluidity in attaining postures and his many supported poses are a joy to observe and learn from.

 Fr. Joe is an amazingly spiritual man; a Catholic priest and yoga teacher, who worked with Mother Theresa and continues to study with B.K. S. Iyengar. He now devotes most of his time through his Kripa Foundation in India to helping and healing people with HIV and Aids, drug and alcohol addicts. Using the many restoring Iyengar poses, and his own outstanding compassion for all humanity, Fr. Joe encompasses all this in every class he teaches.

 His annual workshops in North America raise funds for Kripa.

 Every time I study with him I leave restored, re-affirmed in my teaching and re-invigorated to be with my students. In my Warrior Women classes, for women fighting and surviving breast cancer, I use many of the supported and restorative Iyengar postures.

Chester is one of the most attractive seaside towns in this region.

You are never far from the sea in all its varied majesty. Tree-lined streets are filled with charming houses; studios and galleries offer a variety of crafts and the harbour is filled with vessels of all sizes.

I always stay at the Windjammer Motel. Just out of town it offers a quiet haven. The owner gives me an end unit looking out over parkland, great for a picnic lunch and a short walk down to his private lake-side space, where his ship-inspired cottage is taking shape – all built by himself.

Teak the friendliest dog gives me a happy bark of welcome.

This year I had the special opportunity to observe all aspects of Fr. Joe. Classes as always were a mixture of detailed demonstration, exhortation, humour, song – Jim Reeves’ ‘Take My Hand’, quotations from Mother Theresa  and Juliana of Norwich and his personal faith.

 Photographs in class are not allowed but this is the hall at St. Stephen’s Church in the quite moments before we began.

On the Saturday evening I was invited to go on a “boat trip”. Not quite sure what this might involve, and with only thin yoga clothes, I begged the loan of a sweater and waited. Our ’boat’ was a beautiful 57–foot sail boat, superbly outfitted and captained by Glen, a workshop participant with his wife Margie. Stephanie, another student, Annaleah and Dealy, to whom thanks for some of these photos, were also on board.

Leigh Milne, the yoga teacher and her husband John, who organize this wonderful weekend, attempted a impromptu partner yoga pose.

Fr. Joe was relaxed and laughing, we all were, and arrived back at the Yacht Club dock two hours later, refreshed with new friendships blossoming.

It was perfect way to end the day. Calm waters, warm sunshine and delicious food floated us along into an amazing sunset. Boat Posture was never this easy!

Sunday morning some of us attended  Mass at St. Augustine’s Church. Fr. Joe was invited to celebrate mass and his ecumenical approach welcomes people of all faiths, whether practicing or not.

I arrived early and sat assessing some aspects of my life; my teaching commitment, my hopes and needs, those of my partner. Moments of quiet personal reflection. Fr. Joe talked about his work with Kripa and we received the Host from his hands. Another beautiful connection.

Then it was back to the yoga mat for three more hours of yoga postures, and pranic breathing, before reluctantly saying our farewells and beginning the long drive back to Moncton.

As I drove my thoughts soared as sails above the weekend; considering postures and finding thoughts I want to share with my students in coming weeks.

Back to Class. More to Learn.

Not quite back to school, but with something of the same sense of anticipation; a fresh start, new beginning and renewal,  meeting again with people I haven’t seen for a while, meeting new people.

It’s back to the mat as another session of yoga begins. Just like school yoga classes have a structure – quiet centring, focus on breathing stretching, poses for strength, balance and flexibility, flows, and the lovely relaxing of Savasana followed by calming, mindful meditation.

 Our classes last just 90 minutes, so ‘yoga‘school’ is short, but that time is still very powerful and restoring for all of us on our mats.

Some of us wear Yoga T’s, other loose tunics, but never ‘uniform’. Unlike school, the only ‘time out’ is Savasana. There is no ‘misbehaviour’ in yoga class.  Yoga is about doing what you can do today, not competing or keeping up with. In some cases not even doing the same pose as other students.

As a teacher, every time I walk into my Yoga Space to prepare, light the candles, place Ganesh, then sit quietly on my mat, it provides a new learning experience. Any time coming together to share with other students I learn as much as they do, perhaps more. Every class is an opportunity to develop as a teacher, to understand the needs and abilities of each individual body.

New students bring a fresh openness, returning students bring their previous experiences, joy in the practice, eager to deepen the practice.  Pregnant students, new mothers with young babies, my Warrior Women, fighting and surviving breast cancer, they all trust me and require special care. I’m waiting to see my newest yoga baby whose mother shared with us during her to pregnancies.

During our break students have done yoga in the mountains, on the beach to the rhythm of the ocean, at home in a spare room, perhaps out on the grass.

 They will all bring something new to me. I will hopefully find some new postures and philosophies to inspire them.

To inspire me I sometimes need to be a student. Next weekend I will again be a student of Fr. Joe when he comes to Chester, N.S. to offer his annual Iyengar workshop-retreat. It’s an energizing, restorative time that never fails to sustain me. 

Gift of the Storm -- Part Two

Thanks to Dwayne Biggar for identifying the nest blown onto our door step recently as that of a Cedar Waxwing.  Dwayne, the birdman of the Bird Garden at Edgett's Landing, is a regular at Moncton Market with his quirky bird houses

We often have flocks of these colourful, berry-snacking birds around and I’m hoping more will nest with us next season.

Gift of the Storm

I am in awe of its perfection, the fact it was made by a being weighing a few ounces, with no hands, tools or a floor plan. I keep going into the dining room to look at it and marvel.

Devastating, tempestuous, the tattered remnants of hurricane Irene swept through the Maritimes last weekend. In contrast to downed trees, snapped off branches, blackouts and floods, the storm left us an unexpected gift. A piece of beauty and fragility among the debris.

It may have blown out of the large maple tree on our front lawn, or it may have survived a longer journey. Opening the front door Tuesday morning, there on the step was this perfect example of the art of nest building.

If you’ve read earlier entries in this journal you will know how much admiration I have for our feathered friends, large falcons and eagles, tiny chickadees and sparrows. Their resilience in today’s not-always friendly environment, their parenting abilities, the care they give to their young, their natural super instinct.

Here is yet another proof of that intelligence.  Only four inches in diameter it is so intricately and robustly woven, lined with scraps of grass cutting and embellished with a few fine leaves and twigs.  Imagine the love and care, the hopes with which it was built. From every angle it reveals its tender construction.

Once the chicks fledged it must have stayed in its tree, perhaps waiting for next year’s clutch, until a strong wind blew it our way. It’s not easy to determine what type of bird created this. I’m trying to find out from some local ornithologists and will add a note later if I know.

Meanwhile its beauty is ours to enjoy.  I bought a small white saucer at the Salvation Army store and this small miracle sits on a side table guarded now by a stone bird.