CARTONI ANIMATI, CUBA e SAMVEGA

Estate scorsa siamo andati a Cuba. Ammetto che non avevo tanta voglia di intraprendere un volo di così lungo, visto che:
    a.    Non mi piace trovarmi fuori dal mio elemento – essere sospesa in aria per 12 lunghe ore non fa proprio per me (leggi: subisco pesantamente)
    b.    Ho dovuto affrontare questo volo con al traino le mie due figlie, la più piccola delle quali –9 anni - non aveva dormito le due notti precedenti per l’agitazione, aveva mangiato decisamente troppo a colazione per l’agitazione e non la smetteva di parlare per l’agitazione.
“12 ore – ho spiegato – è un tempo molto lungo” (nella speranza che la realtà la calmasse – ma niente). Sapevo che l’adrenalina avrebbe terminato il suo effetto più o meno a metà viaggio e che poi avrei dovuto trattare con una bestia ancora più feroce: la noia.

Così, nel tentativo di prepararmi psicologicamente, ho riempito il mio bagaglio a mano con ipod, ipad e vagoni di caramelle. Mi sentivo preparata e quasi pronta. Lo so, lo so, sono una "Yogi Mum" – avrei potuto dire che mi ero attrezzata con libri tipo “101 cose da fare con i bambini e i legumi secchi”, sudoko, libri di filastrocche, o magari un kit da cucito per bambini creativi, leccalecca alla soia, carta e matite colorate… ma sarebbe stata una bugia sfacciata. Ho optato per le diavolerie elettroniche – funzionano. Ero preparata a infrangere tutte le regole per sopravvivere a questo volo e ogni tanto, si sa, un ipad può salvare la tua salute mentale, se non la tua vita.

Saliamo sull’aereo, la mia Piccola vede un minuscolo schermo sul sedile di fronte e, ancor prima che l’aereo decolli, si trasforma in una piccola “serial watcher” di cartoni animati. Dopo circa sei ore si volta dalla mia parte con i suoi occhietti rossi che spuntano luccicanti da due sottili fessure nel volto e pronuncia le parole che temevo: 
“Mamma, per quanto ancora dobbiamo stare su questo aereo?”.

Mi volto verso di lei con uno sguardo freddo e calmo, mentre nella mia mente penso: “Le devo dire la verità? Posso sempre dirle un’ora e sperare che dorma per le prossime cinque ore senza accorgersi della bugia… ma la domanda è dormirà fino alla fine?”.
“Mamma, mi stai ascoltando?”. 
Ancora una volta scelgo l’onestà e, stringendole la mano, rispondo “Altre sei ore, temo”. Lei alza le mani verso il cielo e poi i gomiti giù, verso i fianchi in segno di vittoria e urla: “SIII! Altre sei ore di cartoni!”.
Quanto a me, non che fossi altrettanto felice, ma... diciamo sollevata.
Mia figlia è dipendente dai cartoni, non tirano fuori certo il meglio di lei - dopo averli guardati per un po’ è intontita, scontrosa e ha la pazienza di un rottweiler vegano. Eppure lei li adora (i cartoni, non i cani vegani). La cosa divertente è che dopo tre mesi di astinenza da cartoni e immersione nella natura fuori Milano, quando poi era di nuovo a casa aveva effettivamente iniziato a giocare. Sì, persino con i Kapla – quei mattoncini di legno con i quali ci si aspetta che giochino i figli di una "Yogi Mum". Io ero sorpresa e lei sembrava felice.

Questo mi ha riportato alla mente il termine Samvega – una parola yogica che indica quella specie di opprimente depressione da rientro (penso al periodo post vacanze perché il tempo che passiamo lontano da casa ci offre la distanza necessaria per vedere le cose da una diversa prospettiva) che sentiamo quando torniamo a lavorare a pieno ritmo.*

Ma è qualcosa di più di una depressione. È profonda, introspettiva e insistente. E una grande motivatrice, visto che ci proietta fuori dal torpore quotidiano di cui spesso siamo inconsapevoli. Tornando da una lunga vacanza, Samvega ci può colpire facendoci improvvisamente realizzare che le nostre usuali fonti di gioia (i cartoni, per mia figlia piccola) non ci danno più soddisfazione. Sentiamo un bisogno urgente di sviluppare i nostri talenti piuttosto che sprecare tempo facendo cose che ci lasciano vuoti. Tinder diventa tedioso.

Altro indizio che siamo in piena fase Samvega, oltre al desiderio di trovare i nostri doni nascosti (e il nostro Dharma) è la voglia di raccoglierci nel nostro mondo interiore: abbiamo bisogno di riflessione piuttosto che di evasione, calma invece che intrattenimento.

Compito yogico:
Prendiamoci un po’ di tempo per riflettere su dove e come spendiamo la maggior parte del nostro tempo e se queste attività/hobby/persone/cose ci danno ancora la giusta soddisfazione – ci arricchiscono? ci nutrono ancora l’anima? E se non lo fanno, dove dovremmo cercare? Che cosa dovremmo fare, invece?
Samvega è come un campanello d’allarme: è tempo di svegliarsi, tempo di filtrare! Ignorarlo non mette in pericolo la tua vita, ma ti espone al rischio di non trovare la via d’uscita dal pantano e, se sei proprio sfortunato, ti riporta tra le braccia di Spongebob.
 

*o come dice Stephen Cope "uno stato di disillusione rispetto alla vita mondana che porta a una veemente e urgente ricerca della verità e a uscire dalla sofferenza, dall'illusione e dalla confusione."
 
Grazie alla mia tradutrice CHIARA FRASSI!!! 


Appassionata di storie e scrittura, scopre lo yoga con Tess Privett nel 2010 e inizia il percorso come insegnante con Maurizio Morelli nel 2014. Da qualche mese tiene un corso tutto suo, insegna come sostituta da Lotus Pocus e offre lezioni private. 
Crede che lo yoga sia una magia naturale, che migliora la vita delle persone con semplicità: nelle sue lezioni cerca di trasmettere questa magia raccontandola con la pratica, il respiro e la condivisione di esperienze.
Per lezioni private cfrassi@gmail.com

FIGLIE E DHARMA

“Rugby”.
Ecco la risposta che ho ottenuto alla tipica domanda di inizio anno scolastico: “Quindi quale attività extra scolastica ti piacerebbe fare quest’anno?”.

Niente di male nel rugby in sé. È solo che la mia figlia maggiore, dodici anni, è una di quelle creature minute come elfi, con piedini alla giapponese (misura 34!) e tratti belli e delicati (questi ultimi mi piacerebbe che restassero tali). È alta più o meno come la sua sorellina, che ha tre anni in meno. La mia Grande è piccola.

L’altra figlia, sentendo la conversazione, si unisce con un “e io voglio fare disegno”. Quest’idea potrebbe sembrare decisamente più sensata del rugby. Ma bisogna tenere in considerazione che quando si prova a chiedere alla mia Piccola di fare qualcosa in ambito creativo, artistico o di immaginazione, lei resta pietrificata – come un cervo colpito, nel buio, dagli abbaglianti di un’automobile.
“Disegna un albero!” viene accolto con orrore e leggero tremore. È un tipo emotivo – chiedile “Come stai?” e così, su due piedi, ti presenterà una dettagliata tesi sui suoi sentimenti. Solo non chiederle di disegnare o inventare qualcosa.

Ok, a ciascuno il suo Dharma – Non vorrei mai rovinare una promettente carriera nei giochi di squadra o che altro. D’altra parte…

Il motivo per cui la mia Grande voleva il rugby è perché è “diverso” (e quindi cool) e la ragione per cui la Piccola ha scelto il disegno è perché lo fa sua sorella (e quindi è anche questo cool), ignorando che la sua richiesta di passare il tempo libero dipingendo è motivata dal desiderio di vivere il Dharma di un’altra persona: sua sorella. Un’ottima ricetta per il disastro.

Nessuna delle due riconosce (e rispetta) la sua natura (detto con parole buddiste sarebbe: MOHA – che significa illusione o “ignoranza” non intesa come stupidità ma come una sorta di ottusità, di cecità che ci impedisce di seguire la nostra strada).

Tutto questo mi ha ricordato la mia devastante dose di Moha – quando, dopo la scuola superiore, ho deciso di studiare Business e Finanza. Perché? Per uscire dalla povertà improvvisa che tempo prima aveva colpito mia madre. Volevo andare lontano e volevo diventare ricca. Mi stavo auto ingannando. Non stavo affrontando la realtà e tanto meno la mia stessa natura.

Stephen Cope, in un’affascinante intervista su The Yoga Hour, dà dei suggerimenti molto interessanti su come trovare, e seguire, il proprio Dharma. Come “yogi” questo è il nostro compito principale nella vita (non gli si dà tanta importanza di questi tempi – trovare e vivere la propria vocazione è ritenuto inusuale e non necessario, un po’ eccentrico e auto indulgente: una strada certa verso l’indigenza), ma se vogliamo vivere la vita al massimo del suo potenziale, se vogliamo che la nostra vita sia profondamente soddisfacente e felice, dobbiamo iniziare a scavare in profondità alla ricerca di questo tesoro. Come yogi, seguire il Dharma dovrebbe essere piuttosto in alto nella nostra lista di priorità.

Stephen Cope dice tre cose che mi hanno aperto gli occhi sul Dharma:

1.Spesso abbiamo un’idea esagerata di che cosa sia il nostro Dharma (il che lo fa sembrare totalmente irraggiungibile) – dice: “non dobbiamo lasciare il nostro lavoro di assicuratori per andare a dipingere a Parigi”. Probabilmente la nostra strada è molto meno scintillante.
Ancora meglio:

2.È molto probabile che il nostro Dharma sia già da qualche parte nelle nostre vite, è VICINO. Si tratta solo di identificarlo e dirigere lì le nostre energie per permettergli di crescere.

3.L’universo ha modi misteriosi di orientarci verso il nostro Dharma – alcune porte iniziano ad aprirsi quando ci rivolgiamo nella giusta direzione, mentre potremmo trovare delle porte chiuse quando… stiamo per iniziare un corso di rugby.

Compiti yogici:
Se siete come me, probabilmente non siete così bravi nel giudicare i vostri doni o talenti; chiedete a qualcuno con cui avete una particolare sintonia emotiva di fare il lavoro per voi: moglie/ marito/ miglior amico/ vicino/ padre/ insegnante ecc. Qualcuno che stimate e che vi conosce bene. Quali sono i vostri doni e talenti secondo lui? E ora meravigliatevi e riflettete.
Nel farlo state compiendo il primo importante passo verso (il trovare) il vostro Dharma.



Grazie alla mia traduttrice Chiara Frassi: appassionata di storie e scrittura, scopre lo yoga con Tess Privett nel 2010 e inizia il percorso come insegnante con Maurizio Morelli nel 2014. Insegna anche a Lotus Pocus e offre lezioni private.Crede che lo yoga sia una magia naturale, che migliora la vita delle persone con semplicità: nelle sue lezioni cerca di trasmettere questa magia raccontandola con la pratica, il respiro e la condivisione di esperienze.Per lezioni:  cfrassi@gmail.com

The Essential vs. the Important: ideas for the procrastinator

Here's a scene (luckily not a typical one) from one of my evenings at home with the family last week.

It's late. 

I walk in. 

Mess everywhere.

kids on devices.

Hubby on sofa. 

Remains of breakfast on the table.

Unfinished homework on the table.

Dinner decidedly NOT on the table. 

I flip. Ok I don't go ballistic  because I just don't…rarely anyway. But I did feel angry and I did let it be known. Snide comments did in fact ensue, followed by feelings of guilt afterwards (mine - I hasten to add). 

In hind sight what I realized is that I wasn't actually (only) angry at hubby's total lack of concern for dinner uncooked,  nor the post-bomb explosion  aesthetic of the living room/kitchen, but I was mostly angry at myself. I had spent the entire day running around in headless-chicken-mode doing a 1000 important tasks and….I hadn't done anything essential. I felt frustrated and this caused a certain snapping of straws.

An ESSENTIAL task for me means one which has  long term impact either specifically or on life in general:

Physical (ex. running) 

mental  (ex. meditation) 

or in life in general  (ex. getting my book written and on the road to being published, yoga).

"Essential" means  something that promotes my well-being. Answering work emails,  getting lunch on the table for one daughter, a halloween costume for the other, although important are NOT  essential.

I feel crabby when I leave out the essentials. And worse, I don't feel wildly satisfied when I get the important things done either - at best I feel relieved. And usually exhausted. 

When I leave out the essentials I don't get violent,  I don't get a nervous tic, I don't go for the drinks cabinet  but I do get unbearable and impatient. Towards myself first and foremost. This,  as an aspiring yogi,  is annoying: I don't mind having difficult emotions, I do mind a lot when they dictate my behavior. 

According to Shoma Morita a Japanese psychiatrist (a contemporary of Freud) ,  nervous anxiety disorders  (and here I would add "anger") cannot be successfully "dominated". He started a mental health movement called "Morita therapy" which is based on the curative, medicinal power of action. Focusing on what needs to be done, and doing so  to the best of our ability he found,  was far more effective in alleviating mental and physical symptoms of inward stress.

Patricia Ryan of "Improv. wisdom" in her wonderful book on maxims for improvisation actors (and I believe that as yogis we are improv actors of a sort, not on the stage but in life itself) suggests that before  the show begins behind the scenes  "there are no huddles in the back room. Motivation is not required. Good intentions, beliefs, resolutions, even promises don't matter. Action does."

And the same goes for us yogis. Forget the ethical pros and cons, the whys and the why nots,   remember the essential - and get on with it. 

How do we get things done when the procrastinator  in us raises its ugly head? ? Well, here's a few things I try to put into practice:

 - I  filter my "to-do-list " for my essentials 

 - I figure out of those which is most  important for me and my well-being.   

- I do at least one of the filtered items FIRST THING. For me that means getting up at 06.30.  

- Routine is also a great help. I set out the objects  I need for my task the day before,  if possible for example:  lay out my running clothes, get out my meditation cushion, find my writing "bibles" my Pilot Shaker pencil and note books so everything is ready for action.  It works (usually). 

- I sometimes  write a vague list/mind-map of the things I hope to get done the day before  - this is always a great help, but I confess I often forget to do it. 

There is a mudra which focuses too on the ability to take action, the "Just do it" of the Mudra world:  Vajra Mudra. Great if you are feeling sloth-like, if you lack concentration and motivation. Gertrud Hirischi suggests doing it for 5 minutes three times a day. 

Press thumb against the side of the index finger

My hubby has another method. The "One-Two-Three, Big Breath - Go!"  Method. Hope to see it deployed a little more often in the kitchen department :-)  

VAYU MUDRA

The mudra (not sure what that is? take a look at the previous post!) we were looking at last week is called VAYU MUDRA. It's great to aid the digestion process. It's used in yoga therapy when we are feeling heavy and bloated. That "post wedding lunch" effect. When we have problems with our digestion we (or I at least) become sluggish, find it hard to concentrate, become (more) impatient - we only have a certain amount of energy within the body to spend - if a great part of this energy is directed towards our digestive process there is less to direct  towards  other more pleasurable or important pass-times, our emotional/social/sexual/spiritual (yes, that too)  lives for example. When our digestion is easy, we become mentally lucid - a priority for a yogi. 

Vayu Mudra - push the index finger down with the thumb so the circular gap between finger and thumb is smaller.

And here is where Agni comes in. Our digestive fire according to yogis. And as a fire, it doesn't do too well when we:

 -  drown it in icy liquid. So perhaps the cold glass of water, Coke or beer with our meal  is not doing us all that good.

 - throw on large amounts  of oversized "logs". Consider reasonable (!) portions and chewing food well so we don't suffocate that fire.

- when we don't eat. Don't put enough logs on the fire? Enough said. 

- nor eat at the right time. Our body follows a 24 hour cycle - this includes our organs and physical bio-chemical processes. 

According to the ayurveda tradition in order to make the most of this cycle we should be eating:

BREAKFAST - between 07.00 .- 09.00 ( a light breakfast is suggested)

LUNCH - between 12.00 - 14.00 (the "heaviest" most important meal of the day)

DINNER - between 17.00 and 19.00 (light meal)

In order to reap the benefits of (most) mudra, as I said in the previous post,  it's necessary to hold it for very minimum of 30 seconds (5 minutes would be great for most mudras) in the morning, afternoon and evening, to keep that effect  like an echo,  strong and constant from one mudra to another during the entire day. 

Give it a go if you fancy it, tweak your eating habits  and try vayu mudra throughout the day when you've gone over the top and see if your mood lightens as well as your stomach. 

MUDRAS WON'T SAVE YOU (and neither will veg)

As a writer (as in: "I'm working on a novel")  I have a passion for short stories. I have just had the fortune to read Grace Paley's "My Father Addresses me on the Facts of old Age" (actually I heard it on the New Yorker Fiction podcast - wonderful for insomniacs).

It's a wonderful story of an aging father passing on  advice to his daughter whilst he still can. He's a retired doctor and he's egocentric. He's full of himself and he's lovable despite this. 

He recounts how one morning his wife came up to show him a spot over her left breast. He knows what it is. It's cancer. 

"…but I know in a minute, in one minute everything is finished - finished, happiness, pleasure…finished." 

The advice to his daughter that follows is thus:

"..you should take care of yourself, I don't mean eat vegetables, I mean go to the doctor on time, now days a woman as sick as your mamma could have lived many years…"

And it struck me, hearing this. How often we fret and give excess importance to eating our greens, doing yoga, eating organic, drinking water, herbal tea, breathing properly, meditation, getting fresh air, sleep, fruit, friends. We become convinced that a "banana a day" (alla Grace Paley) or vegetarianism or Asprin  will save us from no manner of physical tragedies. It won't. All this may help. May even be a big help. But if you really want to invest in your physical future? For God's sake go and see your doctor. Go and get check-ups. Prevention is better than cure, doctors better than mudras.

In the meantime: Mudras

"MU"- means "light" and "DRA" means "drawing out". The indication being that by practicing mudras (which are gestures - like small yogic asana for the hands) we draw out our light, our joy and remain within it. The hippy in me wants to say "basking in it". 

In yoga therapy mudras are used for all matter of ills. Do they work? I don't know, but I'm optimistic. And I'm trying them.  They are free, they are easy and  this helps. They have to do with touch and contact and that has to be a good thing right? Think of a hug or making love (sorry - it's the hippy in me again) - two "full body" mudras full of potency and even yes, medicinal properties. Think of falling on your face and grazing your knee. What do we do? We rub the sore spot. It's automatic, is it not? Touch. It seems to give us respite from the pain, it seems to make things better. 

When you hold a mudra (bringing certain fingers together) it forms (according to Indu Arora, author of the book "Mudra: The sacred secret" -  which I can't get a copy of as I don't live in America - lament over and done with) an electrical circuit. This you can actually feel - it's like a little pulse in the place where your finger tips join - try it. It takes 30 seconds to kick start  and causes a ripple effect in the body. This lasts from 4 to 6 hours so most mudras are best done three times a day in order to keep that ripple strong and constant (so morning, afternoon and evening) . As Arora goes on to say,  yoga causes a ripple too  and the effect  lasts all day - hence with yoga a once-a-day practice is advised and is enough.   

The mudra I will be writing about in my next post is called VAYU MUDRA. It aids in the digestion process - often feel bloated, heavy and sluggish? I invite you to read next week's post.

In the mean time...yogic homework for the lasses this week:

How about booking that smear test and/or mammogram?   

DAUGHTERS AND DHARMA

"Rugby". This was the response I got to the beginning of term question: "so what extra curricular activity would you like to do this year?"

Nothing inherently wrong with rugby. It's just that My Eldest daughter happens to be 12, she's one of those elf like creatures, Japanese feet, (size 34)  and fine beautiful features (the later of which I'd like to stay that way). She's about the same height as My Youngest  daughter who is three years her junior. My Eldest is tiny.

My other daughter  hearing the conversation joins in "and I want to do drawing classes". This may seem far more reasonable than rugby. But one has to consider that if you approach My Youngest with a request which borders on the creative, imaginative or artistic, she freezes - like a deer in the dark  halted by the headlights of a car.

"Draw a tree!" is greeted with horror and slight trembling. She is an emotive  type - ask "how are you?" and she'll present you with a thesis on her feelings of the day off the top of her hat.  Just don't ask her to draw or invent anything.

Ok, each to their own Dharma - I wouldn't want to bludgeon a blossoming carrier in ball games or anything. However....

The reason My Eldest went for  Rugby is because it's "different"  (therefore cool) and the reason why My Youngest chose drawing  is because her sister does it (and therefore it's cool too),  the latter failing to realize  that her request to spend free-time painting is fueled by wishing to live another person's  Dharma: her sister's. A recipe for disaster. 

Neither of them were recognizing (nor respecting) their true nature (in buddhist terms this would be: MOHA - which means delusion - or "ignorance" not as in stupidity but a kind of blindness or blind-spot keeping us from following our path). 

All this made me remember my own devastating dose of Moha -  when, after my secondary school education, I decided to study Business and Finance. Why? to get out of the poverty hole my mother had fallen into. I wanted to get away and I wanted to make money. I was deluded. I was not facing reality nor the nature of my self. 

Stephen Cope in the very cool interview he gave on The Yoga Hour, gives  some great  suggestions on how to find  our Dharma and how to follow it. As "yogis" this is our main task in life (it's not given much importance these days - finding and living ones vocation  is thought of as being unusual and unnecessary, a little eccentric and indulgent and plainly a path towards poverty)  but in order to live our life to its full potential, in order for our lives to be deeply satisfying and happy we need to start digging inward for that gold. As "yogis", following our Dharma should be pretty high up on our list of priorities. 

There are three things that Stephen Cope says about Dharma which were eye-openers for me: 

1. Often we have an inflated and therefore unreasonable idea of what our Dharma is (which makes it seem totally out of reach) -  he says: "we don't have to give up our job selling insurance to go off and paint in Paris."  Our path is probably far less "blingy".

and even better he states:

2. Our Dharma is very probably already in  our lives somewhere, it's CLOSE. It's just a case of identifying it and directing our energy there to enable it to grow. 

3. The universe has an uncanny way of directing us towards our Dharma - certain doors will start to open when we are heading in the right direction, whereas we may find that other doors shut when we're about to take up rugby. 

Yogic homework:

If you are like me you are probably not very good at judging your own talents and gifts,  ask someone who is preferably emotionally in sync to do that job for us:  husband/wife/best friend/neighbor/father/teacher etc. Someone we esteem and who knows us well.  What does he/she think our gifts and talents are? Then marvel and reflect. 

In doing so you've taken an important step towards (identifying) your Dharma. 

Cartoons, Cuba and coming back to Samvega

This year we went to Cuba. It was a very long distance flight to Havana which  I was not looking forward to as: 

 a) I do not like being out of my element - being up in the air for 12 long hours just doesn't do it for me (read: " freaks me out" ) 

 b) because I had to "suffer" this flight with my two kids in tow, the youngest of whom is nine and who hadn't slept the two nights previously due to pure excitement, had eaten far too much at breakfast due to excitement and who was now talking non stop  due to excitement. 

"12 hours"  I explained "is a long long  time ." (hoping that reality would sober her up - it didn't). I knew the adrenalin would eventually subside around the half way mark and then I would have to deal with an even bigger beast: boredom. 

So in an attempt to prepare myself psychologically for this, I stuffed my bag with ipods, ipads and sweets galore. I felt prepared and  almost ready.  I know, I know, I'm a Yogi Mum - I could say I filled my bag with books like  "101 things to do with Kids and Dried Legumes",  Suduko, Poems for Poppets or  a sewing  kit for creative kids, soya lollipops, colored pencils and paper…but that would be a blatant lie. I went for electronic devices -they work. I was prepared to break all the rules to get through this flight, and sometimes you know, the ipad saves nerves if not lives.  

We get on the plane, My Youngest sees a little screen on the headrest of the chair in front, and perhaps even before the plane takes off , she starts to serial-watch cartoons. After about  6 hours she turns to me and with her little eyes red, glowing and  peering out of two fine fissures in her face  she  utters the words I have been dreading:

"Mum, how  much longer have we got on this plane?" 

here I smile with a glazed look on my face whilst I my mind toys with:

"should I tell her the truth? I could aways say "1 hour" and hope she falls asleep for the remaining 5, and that she doesn't notice…will she sleep though? that is the question……"

"Mum are you listening to me?" 

Once again honesty was opted for. 

"Sweetheart another 6 hours I'm afraid" I try to hold her hand.

She jabs her little arms up into the air then her elbows are thrust  downward hard by her sides and she shouts

"YES!!!! another 6 hours of cartoons!!!"

It wasn't that I was pleased as such but well…relieved I admit. 

My daughter is addicted to cartoons, they do not bring out the best in her - after watching a few she's groggy, grumpy and has the patience of a rottweiler on a vegan diet. Nonetheless she likes them (cartoons not vegan dogs…although…..)

The funny thing is that after almost  three months of being Cartoon-free and subjected to Nature, and away from Milan, she came home and actually started playing. Yes, even with Kapla - those little wooden brick things that kids of yogi mums are supposed to play with. 

I was amazed and she seemed happy.

It got me  thinking about Samvega - a yogic term for a kind of nagging  often post-holiday (I think "post-holiday" because time away gives us the distance required to see things in a different perspective)  depression which one tends to suffer on getting ones nose back to the grind stone and hitting the ground running. 

But it's more than a depression. It's deep, reflective and insistent. And a great motivator as it projects us out of our daily stupor, which we are often blind to. On coming back after  a long break, Samvega may strike and we realize that our previous sources of satisfaction (which for the likes of My Youngest, are cartoons) no longer quite hit the spot. We feel an urgent  need to plug into our talents and gifts rather than waste time on doing stuff that leaves us empty. Tinder become tedious. 

Other indications that we are smack bang in the middle of a Samvega cycle apart from the desire to find and use our gifts (and dharma) is when we also feel a need to pull ourselves towards our inner world, we need moments of reflection rather than avoidance, we need  quiet rather than entertainment.

Yogic homework: take the time to reflect where and we spend most of our time to consider if we still get the same satisfaction from those activities/hobbies/people/things - do they replentish? do they provide "nutriment" for the soul?  and if they don't, where should we be looking? what could we be doing instead?

Samvega is like an alarm bell shouting:  time to wake up, time to filter! Ignore it not at your peril as such but at the risk of not finding your way out of the quagmire, and if you are really unlucky, back to Spongebob. 

"Look to where you spend your free time, there you shall find your God" (I don't know where I heard this, but the wise words are not mine)