A letter to God

Dear God,  
While making an apple crisp in my 3rd floor apartment kitchen... with these lovely red counter-tops, and Native American flute music seeping sound waves from my iPod speakers to my ears... I dropped to my knees to thank you. I prayed on my knees with my hands clasped together, for the first time since childhood.

God, there are a lot of people in my life with a mosaic of idea’s about you. Since birth  people have been telling me who or what they think you are. As a kid, I spent a lot of time panickingly fearing you god, and frankly, it sucked. I thought a curse from my lips meant eternal damnation. I thought sex outside of wedlock would place me in a pit of pain, fire and evil. And God, I desperately loved my family and still do. We were a down to earth, loving Christian family on a self-sustaining farm. I wanted no harm or suffering to come to any of us and I wanted us all to stay together forever. But that idea of you caused me great suffering, overbearing guilt, and feelings of betrayal. Because  God, in that church, with those stories, I couldn't see you. I couldn't feel you, and I by no means could decipher your glory or importance in my life. I didn’t know you there.
Well God, my family couldn't have stayed as it was because family is meant to grow and change and hold together in ways that transcend geography. But before I knew that, in a crisp perfect story house with my big family, in a field at sunset, at Christmas snuggled on the couch, after seeing my mother cry from overwhelming happiness, at the peak of a magnificent summer day, and in a heartwarmingly delicious homemade meal, that’s where I felt you. Those moments in my life that called for all my attention to their holiness, God...that’s where I found you.

In a fierce fit of teenage emotion and a flurry of anger, I turned my back from you. I spit at the idea of your existence, I thought the answer was Nothing, zero connection, no such thing as real love, goodness or selflessness. And wow, was this an miserable world to live in. Without you God, I went astray. Not only did I stray away from your love, but I left that little child who loved you and the world alone, robbing her of her spirit. I let her be convinced that she was ugly, unworthy, and bad natured. She picked apart her body and coiled at the thought of salvation. She collected sadness and fear at school and at home and let them stew in her heart. She questioned whether she could make it in this world, or if she deserved to. God I did many things I am not proud of, but the worst of those things was turning from that little girl, turning from myself.

So God, here’s the thing. I don’t think you reign over me. I don’t think you would demand I slaughter my only child or that being gay is wrong. I don’t think sex will set me aflame and I don’t believe the people we have lost from suicide go to hell. I see no reason to believe you would like us to continue outdated rituals, and I think that one text that so many people say holds your word, does, but it’s a chip in the iceberg. I think Dharma Bum’s and a few poems I’ve heard also come close. I think some of my yoga teachers have as much knowledge of you as a priest. There’s no way in hell women were created from the rib of a man because we are all your children regardless of sex and gender, or race or even popularity... no life more worthy than the other.  God I don’t believe members of my family know you better than I, nor do I know you better than them. God... I’m done with other people telling me who you are. There are so many paths to you God, an infinite amount. Some people find your presence on top of a mountain and not in a church. Some people find you in a temple, a chapel or sweat lodge, and others find you in a forgiving hug or a perfectly timed smile from a stranger. God, I don’t think you are a boy or a girl. I think you are something and someone much bigger than a gender could even begin to describe. God I don’t think you prefer any person over another. Or species over others.  I think you are forgiving, soft, strong, joyful, compassionate and brave. I think in a sense I am you, that your light is in all of us and every living thing, from bugs in soil, to towering trees, to antelope. Your light can be in the ugliest of things. And if you look deep enough in the darkest of caves, your light will shine through. I find you in moment of ecstatic dance. I've felt you in a lover’s touch and at the end of sentence in an incredible book. I hear you in music. I feel you in savasana and when I  really find my breathe. Your influence is  there when I stop myself from speaking when I’m too angry, and when I do a good deed. You’re by my side when I meditate and I don’t think you are ashamed when I have sex. I swear I can taste your love in garden veggies and tea.  I've seen you in my  baby sister’s eyes and I felt you in the air at my big sister’s wedding. I find you in support from a  friend. God I see you even in the eyes of my enemies or those who say I can’t see you at all.

So God. I am done with other people telling me I don’t know you. I want our relationship to keep growing, I think this is just the beginning of my journey. I think you are accessible to everyone, at every walk of life, and I know you have plans for me.

Today when I knelt down and prayed, I ended with “Namaste God”. God, you know this but Namaste is:

“an ancient Sanskrit greeting still in everyday use in India. Translated roughly, it means "I bow to the God within you", or "The Spirit within me salutes the Spirit in you" - a knowing that we are all made from the same One Divine Consciousness.”

When I spoke those words to myself for the first time in prayer, I felt your love and your light shining down on me. But, God... I also felt it radiating in my own heart. I may never speak or fear you like some. I may do asana more than I pray.  I’m gonna keep chanting all your names in my bedroom and the studio, even on the sidewalk once in a while. Strolling down the street to  “Hare Rama, Hare Krishna”. I might be awkward or sloppy and from time to time, I know I’ll mess up. It might be hard for you to find me in my darkest moments or for me to find you, but I know we will be reunited. I’ll find you because I have faith that everyone is connected. That I exist for a reason and so does every being in this Universe. That I am worthy of love.  I have faith that we are all at origin, good. And sometimes, we just need to be reminded of the light inside our souls.

So God, there’s my prayer.

I pray for love. I pray for health. I pray with overflowing gratitude. I pray for my family and friends. I pray for the animals in the forest , the damn seagulls on the beach and the pumpkins in their patches. I pray for children, hustling adults, and old, withering wise folks.  I pray to say I feel you in the sunshine and in my own smile.

I pray that I can forgive and be forgiven.

I pray that the world becomes a more fair, loving place.

I ask you to help us see the beauty in each other and ourselves.

I ask for the strength to be the best version of myself I can be. I pray to love with endless devotion, and to let go of my insecurities and reveal my strength. God I know that the light inside of me is warm, good, loving, and kind. I know it’s the same light in you and in

the stars. I know this light is in every, single, soul. God I believe it is  your light...and so, we are one.

Namaste, God

Sincerely,

Jennie

ASHRAM 101: What to Bring to a Sivananda Ashram!

What I thought to Bring:

1. Sarah, my long time friend.

2. A tent, flashlight, etc.

3. 10-15 different pairs of yoga pants/ shirts/ leggings

4. A tiny water bottle

5. Caffeinated tea in case of minor headaches

6. Large, bulky boots with laces

7. A yoga mat 

8. A sleeping bag

9. A journal

10. A book on 300 + Asanas

11. A readiness to Relax

In actuality; one should bring:

1. A friend, yes. This can be an emotional experience and it was very helpful to have a close friend to debrief all we were learning with.

2. A tent- but also a tarp! It rains a lot in the winter in Northern California! Also an umbrella, poncho...these things would have made life much drier!

3. A few pairs of yoga clothes, washing and hanging things out to dry is better than over packing and lacking space in your tent!

4. A large water bottle, and perhaps a travel mug for herbal teas. One cannot get enough herbal teas when you are washing out toxins from your body, eating such a pure diet, eliminating caffeine, and meditating frequently.  Caffeine quickly becomes unnecessary with a little determination, quality sleep, specific asanas, and other energy-enriched practices.

5. CLOGS! My strappy boots were a pain when you are required to practice cleanliness and remove shoes in every building, including outside bathrooms! You need something that slips on and off!

6. A yoga mat might seem obvious; but ashrams have so many, I would suggest using the extra packing space for something more useful like a quality sleeping pad. Quality sleep was essential to be in the right mind  set and to achieve continual patience required for learning and meditation.

7. A journal, or several, was a great idea. I wrote and learned more than I have in years, and even felt the need to write down conversations with other yogis along the way. In such an inspiring environment-  a place to record your amazing experience is essential. 

8. Books aren't necessary. Although I read a lot during my time on the ashram ; there was a library of beautiful yogi literature I didn't want to miss out on- as I could read my own books anytime. As far as a collection of asanas- 300 was too much. In the Sivananda practice, only 12 basic poses are practiced and easy to memorize quickly, especially with rapid repetition and practice. 

9. Relaxation...well.. yes, this is experience was relaxing. But a better attitude might be complete openness, humility,  a readiness to learn, possibly work hard and stretch mental and physical limits, and no matter what skill level you are at or where your practice is, the willingness to let go, surrender to your teachers, and look deeply inward. 

My happiness recipe.

Here's my HAPPINESS RECIPE & PLAN:
What's yours?

TO strive towards happiness, not as a goal but as part of your JOURNEY! Jennie Foley:

1.       Exercise often and in creative ways- Do yoga, walk, jog, bike, hike, DANCE, hula hoop, play basketball, Frisbee, Field Hockey? Roller Derby? Swimming, Zumba, CLIMB ROCKS!

2.       Eat healthy, foods that make you happy, light, guilt free! COOK!

3.       Quit smoking!

4.       Read more!

5.       Paint what you feel.

6.       Play the ukelele!

7.       Don’t get stuck in routines

8.       Always be down to make new friends.

9.       Love yourself / body

10.   Stop thinking about what you want to find or what you need, think about what you HAVE!

11.   Stop obsessing and fantasizing about people and things that aren't where you are. 

12.   Spend more time with friends and family, but also take time alone when you need it.

13.   LAUGH- as much as you can! Also, do LAUGHTER YOGA!

14.   MEDITATE

15.   Experiment, mix things up, create change, adapt.

16.   Wear whatever you want.

17.   Say what  need to say. Go where you need to go.

18.    SING, make music, play music, blast music.

19.   BE OPEN to learning.

20.   Be open to love, LOVE people, get to know them.
21. Practice kindness and compassion, on both a small and large scale. 

Search for INNER LIGHT! Both in yourself and in others.

I can attribute most of these discoveries to self-reflection and my new daily AM/PM yoga practice, but additionally, if it were not for the incredible people in my life, I would be nothing but entirely lost.

In the past few months…

I have learned more about who I am.

I have gotten better at deep, forward bends.

I can breathe deeper.

I can love more.

I know my desires, needs, and wants more than ever.

I am more comfortable with myself.

I do more sun salutations.

I treat people better.

I know that despite stereotypical hate, religious misreading, and media- my family will love me for whomever I am.

I know being gay is OK!!!

I know Maine is ready for gay marriage.

I know the best moments in life are spent with those you love.

I know I can control my own suffering and pain.

I know I can conquer anything.

I know I want nothing more than to help anyone in need.

I know I’m in need too.

And I know, it gets better.

Thanks, world ....

-J

12:01 pm..head ache, no coffee, creditors on the phone, and god damn sunshine.

      At nine am… or who am I kidding, at noon most days when my alarm sounds; after having shut off snooze for a minimum of two hours prior…my mind can be in various states. More often than not, the first fifteen minutes or so are spent vigorously trying to discern memories of yesterday with memories of speedy, shockingly realistic dreams of the post sleeping session.  Some days, it’s cloudy and dark, giving me the illusion that daylight in my existence really is a scarcity.  Sometimes, I walk  into the kitchen  to find  my one beacon of light in the cloudy day (a hot cup of coffee)…only to realize the plastic bag full of  fair trade roast is indeed not full at all, but…empty. Then I get into my car after various methods of waking myself up (splashing water violently into my face… snuffing peppermint oil…it’s a strange process).  Often, my car feels like it’s falling apart, I miss class, work is a drag, friends get upset, dishes pile up, sickness ensues… and once in a while, someone I love goes away, or a friend dies. These absurd moments are indeed this crazy, whirling, blurry, and barely comprehensible thing, we call …life.

        Lately, with a few particularly dark clouds casting over my days and the days of many people I love; I find it hard to climb out of my seemingly- black-holed- rut. Negativity piles up, and once in a while I opt out; spending a whole day doing nothing but watching inspirational gay rom-coms -in bed (usually my movies of choice if I can’t stand the sight of  straight men for one reason or another)… or re-runs of various sit coms ( Seinfeld, Community, Freaks and Geeks, Friends…anything that makes me feel like the random wonderful people in my life are the most important). I usually pair these sessions with a comfortable pair of polka dotted underwear or dated Christmas jammies (yes, a gift from my mother). Classically, Ben and Jerry often join me in bed, or a variety of corn-puffed treats covered in spicy MSG. I leave only every hour or so to quickly puff down a Turkish Silver.

     Other days, I run to the store, the bank, do an hour of yoga, and spend the day blasting Ani Difranco, dying my hair various colors or piercing something with a tack and an apple. I might take a break to spend an hour on the phone with an old friend, strum the ukulele, sing on the top of my lungs, scream… and eventually strap on a new pair of shoes, some dark lipstick, and hit the town with friends and acquaintances. Laughing, dancing, and spinning around in a whirl of social excitement and again blurry,  but vigorous , life. However, these nights can occasionally end in tears, yelling, or the scarce, but painfully embarrassing nap on the wall of a public bath room.

        Sure, you can pass your judgment on me.  You could also brush it off and say, hey, she’s young; she’ll grow out of it.  But the truth is we live in a dark world, (umm..yes we do). Literally, the world is dark half the time. We use our manufactured florescent lights to function and wander around, but it can be a dark, cold, terrifying place… full of ; theft, bombs, BPA,  murder, sickness, abandonment, Red dye 40, tanning beds, death, suicide, homelessness, joblessness, greed, depression, unreasonable expectations, selfishness, billionaires, heart-attack cheese burgers, Wal-Mart, and war.

     But that’s just it; the darkness only occurs half the time! Then the sun comes out, or a full moon illuminates the night sky… or someone lights a shiny little cigarette or a scented candle.

Here’s how I get by:

While I do get stuck in these stormy moments, I stop and remember the word I just used previously in this very sentence, “The moment”.  Now, when I use this word, please be clear… my intention is not to describe some lofty concept that people can only obtain by meditating naked for twelve hours on top of a Himalayan mountain and simultaneously chanting…or anything  vaguely related ;) I do indeed mediate and practice Yoga, which I find to be significantly helpful and recommend it to anyone seeking peace, balance, strength, clarity or well-being. However, we all have our own ways of meditating that we may not even be aware of. Every day when you step into the hot shower, can you tell me you don’t feel better than you did upon awakening? The steam clears up your lungs, the water drips down your face. You stand vulnerable and naked, and are finally fine with it. Your morning soap is a daily reminder to WAKE UP, filling your nostrils with some pleasant scent. You breathe deeply. And for a few minutes, nothing in the world matters but you and your comfortable, warm, naked body.  Maybe you have a similar feeling when walking to the bus stop, or drinking a cup of tea, but the point is, there are things we do in every moment that make us stop and dive deeper into ourselves and what is right in front of us. I often call these little things “meditations”(yes, I also often pluralize words when not at all necessary)...shower meditations, journal meditations, paint meditations, kitty meditations and a little beer meditations. That word just helps me to remember that no matter what I’m doing; I mine as well stay present in it and put all my effort forward.  Because yes, sometimes  your key breaks off in the door, and the basement floods, and there’s mayo on your only shirt for work, and you’re missing someone so badly you can’t help but cry. BUT these are just moments, and they will pass and yield  lighter, more manageable moments. At the same time that those little salty tears roll down your cheek, your heart pumps blood through your whole body, keeping you alive and making you function. At that very same moment someone in the world is also crying, but because of an overwhelming amount of joy and not sadness. In another place, a tiny plant struggles to push up from its roots and into the sunshine. Maybe just next door your neighbors or friends are mentioning how much fun they had with you the night before, and how wonderful you are to talk to.  Maybe as you drive home from work, your room mates or spouse are cleaning the kitchen to free up your stressful afternoon. Maybe an old friend will give you a call in a moment just to say hello. So turn around, look around, and when you are in a moment, really be in it, ALL of it! Not just the broken key in the door, but the wonderfully nourishing bag of groceries at your feet, and the beautiful house in front of you, and the cold, jolting air around you that wakes you up and makes you feel real. So I find a good moment, or a good friend, and  I keep it as long as it lasts, and then… I find the next.

Those dark clouds aren’t the entirety of your moment; everything is. And everything is only dark half the time, and light the other….which could ultimately be mixed together into some hazy twilight tinge!  

For you Mom.

I’m starting a blog. And I want to point out right of the bat that I don’t claim to be a literary genius. I also openly admit that I am sub-par in spelling. But I don’t write for others to read, I write because there is something in me that needs to, that has something to say. Regardless of such, I can guarantee you I’m at least an ounce clever, and I will always be real. If this intrigues you, read on.

My name is Jennie Kathleen Foley.

I key into a lot of things that others don’t.

And I tune out of what most people do.

I like to think of this as a sort of quirk, part of who I am. But sometimes, it makes social situations awkward, hurts feelings, and utterly confuses me.

Other times, it makes me hike mountains, hop a plane across the world, take a yoga class, make a kid smile, write a poem, paint anything around me, run 14 miles, fall madly in love, and buy a ridiculous pair of shoes from goodwill, knowing that I may actually be the only person in the state who finds them fashionable.

These are the things that make me who I am, and that help me to succeed and be happy in my life. By being myself, by believing in anything I want, and by knowing I am loved no matter who I am, I can thrive, not just by accomplishing goals, but by being happy moment to moment.

I inherited this all from my mother.

The other thing I inherited from my mother was writing, (and perhaps her addiction to shoes). I think I was around age seven when I first saw my mother’s journal in her dresser drawer. I think I was stealing socks, socks where always disappearing in our house. And there it was... it seemed like it was glowing. I felt like for a moment I was in a Disney movie, finding some magical key to everything about a person. But I didn’t know whether or not I should open it, it felt like opening someone’s entire soul.

To be honest, I can’t remember much past that. I hope I didn’t open it, but I may never know. My mother came in and snatched it from my hands, upset that I had discovered something she kept hidden.

From then on, I kept journals. At all times, and regardless of how much I wrote, I never went without one, just in case I needed to say something and there was no one to listen. It’s given me an upper hand in self-discovery, offering me an outlet to figure myself out.

So this blog is for you mom. And it’s not just for you to read, it’s for me to write.

Every Sunday my mother and I talk on the phone. Sometimes, it ends up being a Monday or a Tuesday, due to our overly busy lives, but it always happens. It’s always a long, heartfelt conversation. I look forward to it every week, since I live across the country in Minnesota. She helps me feel like I’m close to home.  I appreciate these conversations more than she knows. Friends come and go, but family is forever, so they mine as well also play the role of a friend.  Ever since I passed that awkward post-pubescent stage of female-role- model rebellion…my mother has been my best friend.

Each time we have one of these conversations, my mother asks me to read her blog. I’m often busy throughout the week, so I don’t always have time. I also have some authenticity issues with writing online, but I’m getting over it. SO this blog just isn’t for my mother to read, it’s so I can understand where she is coming from, and to remind me to read hers.

Here’s to staying connected with family, no matter the distance between.