by Sarah Hodges

Today, ‘ohana includes all who are brought into the family group. Your ‘ohana nourishes you. There are even hānai (adopt, nourish) relationships which feed a person both physically and spiritually.” – Leilani S. Hino

In times when I’ve felt any kind of struggle, I’ve sought both inward and outward. I’ve discovered that drawing close to loved ones brings me a sense of well being and fulfillment. Sometimes I gravitate to my grandparents and parents for this sense of comfort, and sometimes to members of my global community.   

The universe gives us our blood family. I have also chosen a global family with whom I share some of my most meaningful relationships. This is my extended ‘ohana. In our blood family we have many kinds of relationships – close, distant, and those who we need to stay away from. My global family consists of people who show a willingness to listen to my perspective and who express kindness to others, both unalike and similar. They live with open-mindedness and with respect for the land, the spaces we inhabit, for other people, and for self. These are my people. I cultivate my ‘ohana with both of these groups. 

The people we put ourselves around impact our physical health. We tend to focus inwardly on our busy lives and forget about the importance of close relationships for holistic health.  As children, our comfort comes from our family: those we hold close, those who hold us close.  Their embrace settles our nervous system.

My friend studies so intently in her PhD program that she often isolates herself, then feels lonely and sometimes down. I can relate to her experience.   

I spent several years rigorously studying art abroad, disconnected from ‘ohana. I felt terrible, REALLY terrible. Spirit knew that I needed healing. When I returned to Hawaii I spent six months painting, meditating and praying for healing in a little cottage on the North Shore. I hardly spoke to anyone, isolating myself as the only way I knew how to deal with the world. I didn’t know what protective coat to wear – no longer wanting to wear the identity of an “artist”. 

My longing for ‘ohana led me to Still & Moving Center for a West African dance class where I encountered joyful community through song and dance. Here I got wind of an amazing lomilomi healer named Uncle Alva. Several months later I was driving through Waimanalo past a house with a gathering of people out front, and felt deeply drawn to that space. Come to find out, it was Uncle Alva’s place, where he practiced and taught healing through. lomilomi massage. After my first session with Uncle Alva, he said, “Come as my guest to a class I am giving tomorrow night. You will meet your brothers and sisters there.” 

Uncle Alva led me into a community of healers that transformed my state of being. I finally felt support with a sense of belonging and joy. We learned together, shared meals, talked story and laughed. Uncle showed me how being in community heals. He saw that as a people, we need togetherness in this life-journey to do our individual work in the world. We’re each stronger when we feel part of a larger whole.

When you feel off-balance, remember what a precious resource friends and family are and remember to reach out. Wanting to protect ourselves and be safe, wanting to be perceived as “OK” or wanting to be respected – all of these fears may cause us to shrink away from our ‘ohana.

Find the courage to come close. Take the risk, because it’s worth it!

Happy, Humorous Yoga & Aerial Teacher

Lee-Ann has lived a life that shows the benefits of an extended ‘ohana. Although her parents lived in Hawaii Kai, Lee-Ann spent most of her time with her grandparents and aunt in Kaimuki. “My parents tried their best, but I was their first kid and they were young. They were making the best decisions they could, but that didn’t do it for me. That’s OK. It made me self-reliant.”

“My grandparents were the best people in the world, so supportive and so amazing. They grew up in the   WWII era. My grandmother was pulled out of school to work when she was in about 6th grade. She taught me to value education, to take care of my things, and to take care of myself. She had a great sense of humor. They both passed many years ago. I miss them very much but they are very alive in me.

“Whenever I have a dream about my grandmother, she’s laughing. That’s the best thing, no matter what’s going on. It’s important to be positive because we create our own reality. We can see past things that we perceive as negative. Things always turn out as they should in the end, and we’re always taken to a better place. It’s important to be happy where you are. All you have is YOU. Make your own happiness, and you’ll be happy all the time,” affirms Lee-Ann.

Once you take one of Lee-Ann’s yoga or AiReal yoga classes, you’ll find laughter and happiness to be trademark signatures of her teaching style. 

Lee-Ann reports that she was not very active to begin with: “I was a chubby little kid who liked to hang out in my aunt’s kitchen and bake.” It wasn’t until college at Honolulu Community College (HCC) that she started rock climbing and hiking. Once she left college to pursue fashion design and her climbing friends moved away, she felt the need to keep moving. 

She attended Zumba classes with a friend, and her favorite part turned out to be the yoga stretches at the end. While she liked the yoga videos she tried, she wanted “someone supervising me to make sure I was doing it right.”

A friend gave Lee-Ann a Groupon for a little yoga studio behind the teacher’s house, where she learned a lot every Wednesday morning. Before moving away to the mainland, her teacher put the idea into her head to eventually take a yoga teacher training.

Lee-Ann has worked full time at Sedona for 20 years, helping people find items that assist them in their lives: gems, talking with energy readers, energetically-charged fragrance oils, feng-shui tips, and just talking. One day a customer of hers at Sedona named April Patterson offered Lee-Ann a free yoga class at Still & Moving where April taught Yoga for the Stiffs

As Lee-Ann describes her yoga journey here: “I thought April’s class was just great, and then she moved. Then I attended David Sanders’ classes and I loved how he shared so much for us to think about during the postures. Once Claudia subbed for David, I thought SHE was great! When Claudia told us about her yoga teacher training, I knew it was the right thing at the right time for me. It’s always better to know more than less.

“At our teacher training, Claudia was tremendous at teaching the basics of how to do the poses, breaking the moves down and doing each asana with proper alignment. I know people who complain of getting hurt in yoga… Not the way Claudia teaches! And Claudia is always so supportive and open to our questions. I really appreciate her love for what she does.”

We hired Lee-Ann first as a sub and then as a team teacher of a unique, team-taught class called Yin-Yang Yoga. One day she and her co-teacher Ciara Steynberg ventured upstairs to try an aerial dance class with Kezia Holm. That eventually led to Yumi Hi’s AiReal yoga classes, where she found Yumi to be hilarious. Once Carmen Curtis, the founder of AiReal yoga, came to deliver a teacher training at Still & Moving, Lee-Ann was all in!

“Carmen taught us that poses are ONLY safe when done in proper alignment. I learned from her that a lot is going on inside that you may not see from the outside. So I learned to find the moves from the inside out, so to speak.”

“Everyone can benefit from some style of yoga. In the case of AiReal yoga, it’s actually easier than regular yoga to do a number of moves. Using the hammock as a prop actually allows people to get into postures that they wouldn’t otherwise be able to do. The aerial hammock gives students more accessibility to yoga poses that their joints or their lack of strength or their stiffness might otherwise allow them to do. They have LESS chance of hurting themselves in the hammock than they do on the mat!’

Whether doing yoga on the mat or in the hammock, Lee-Ann reports psychological benefits beyond the physical ones: “Yoga can calm people down, taking their brain off their day. Yoga helps you focus on the present moment so that you can keep your balance and breathe and find your alignment. It gives you a mental vacation.

“I ask people not to take yoga or AiReal yoga so seriously. I add some humor. I encourage students laughing, talking, even swearing if they want to! And people do! I like to interact with everyone to know that each student is OK. I ask people about specific parts of their bodies, getting them to really tune in. And I try to make things funny, especially if we’re doing a pose that’s not particularly comfortable!

Lee-Ann remains grounded in her extended ‘ohana. She has friends at Sedona who come from really rough childhoods, and who also were not close with their parents. “We make it a point to be supportive and loving in a way that we weren’t supported as children.”

With her parents and younger sister now having moved away to the mainland, Lee-Ann stays close to her aunties. In fact, two aunties in their sixties now attend her AiReal yoga classes! Even if they started taking class to support Lee-Ann, they are now earnest students finding that AiReal yoga effectively gets them into shape. 

Lee-Ann enthuses: “My aunties are having a great time! They go upside down and find great support in the hammock, doing moves they can’t do on the mat. I am so proud of them!”

And we are proud of Lee-Ann for her can-do, make-my-world-a-happy-place approach to life.

 

 

Who would have thought that a kid from the mountains of Montana would grow up dedicating his life to saving the sea? Allow me to introduce you to such a man: Kevin O’Brien, President of the Papahānaumokuākea Marine Debris Project, which he founded in May 2019. If – like me – you don’t know where/what Papahānaumokuākea is, look at a map of the northwest chain of the Hawaiian islands (NWHI). You’ll see 10 uninhabited primary islets and atolls of astonishing beauty. Kevin is working to preserve an otherwise intact Hawaiian ecosystem – with monk seals, sea turtles, dolphins, seabirds and coral reefs – that’s under siege from ocean trash.

As a boy living on the Flathead Indian Reservation, Kevin got to regularly explore the tide pools of the Oregon coast on summer trips with his biologist father. He recalls his dad being able to remember the complex scientific name of a green sea anemone, and thinking to himself, “I want to do that when I grow up!”

Cold, murky, and mysterious, Oregon’s coastal waters didn’t bear up well in comparison once Kevin plunged into our warm, clear sea when he visited Hawaii partway through college. He felt at home, and transferred directly to the University of Hawaii. Here he earned a zoology degree with a Certificate from the Marine Option Program.

Kevin’s first job working with marine life consisted of tagging sharks in Kaneohe Bay at Coconut Island – what a cool job for a 19 year old! Once he graduated from college, NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) hired him as a temporary technician to remove marine debris in the Northwestern Hawaiian islands, which are now protected as a National Monument.

Kevin’s voice gets animated as he tells me of the child-like excitement he experienced anticipating his first-ever visit to this remote, rarely visited, tropical archipelago: Papahānaumokuākea. He had long dreamed of seeing Laysan Island, known for having one of the few natural lakes in Hawaii, a broad white sand beach, as well as the fullest complement of all the bird species in the NWHI.

“I was just giddy with the excitement of going there,” Kevin recalls. These islands constitute some of the most intact ecosystems of today’s world. “Even though I knew I was going there to remove marine debris – mostly abandoned fishing nets – I was not prepared for the sight that met my eyes.” The gorgeous white sand beach, a quarter mile wide, lay thickly littered with plastic trash washed ashore from ‘civilization’ at least 600, perhaps thousands of miles away. “I knew at that moment that I had found my life’s passion in this work.

In fact, the plastic debris on the beaches can become so profuse, female sea turtles, honu, that come ashore can scarcely find room to dig nests for their eggs, where baby turtles will emerge and head for the sea.

Kevin also described to me how Hawaiian monk seals are attracted to marine debris, like little children attracted to new “toys”, only to become fatally entangled in all the abandoned fishing gear. At this point 30% of the total 1,400 remaining monk seals are only living because human beings have rescued them from marine debris, fishing line, or intervened in some way.

As Kevin affirms, “It’s our fault, so it’s our responsibility.”  Every year, 110,000 lbs of abandoned fishing nets accumulate on the reefs of Papahānaumokuākea, and an unknown, but staggering amount of plastic washes ashore on the beaches there.

No surprise, NOAA must have recognized what a dedicated worker they had in Kevin and offered him a permanent position. The only problem is, NOAA is a scientific agency dedicated to collecting information about the ocean and atmosphere.  And while specialized operational capabilities have been developed by NOAA over the last two decades to conduct these complex remote removal operations, NOAA’s resources are spread thin among many other competing scientific priorities and mandates, and it became clear that, despite the best intentions to combat marine debris in Papahānaumokuākea, more had to be done if we were to keep up with the problem.

So after nearly 12 years working at NOAA, Kevin saw that another entity needed to come into existence with the specific mission of reducing sea trash in Papahānaumokuākea. For that reason he founded Papahānaumokuākea Marine Debris Project (PMDP), a non-profit organization supported by grants and private donations. The Project works in close coordination with the 4 governmental agencies that manage the Monument to carefully remove ghost nets and such from the fragile coral reefs and beaches that surround the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands

The Project’s threefold mission is to reduce:

  • Entanglement hazards to Hawaiian monk seals & green sea turtles
  • Coral reef damage
  • Ingestion hazards to seabirds.

Kevin explains their philosophy: “When you love something, it’s really easy to want to protect it.” The Project therefore focuses on the beauty and amazing nature of the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands, showing us WHY they are worth loving and caring for. This protected National Monument constitutes over ⅔ of our entire Hawaiian island chain – a much larger area than the inhabited islands.

And these coral reef laced islets are breathtakingly, heart-achingly beautiful.

The archipelago’s name Papahānaumokuākea evokes ancient layers of meaning, in which the fertile Hawaiian earth mother, together with the expansive sky father, brought to life this exquisite lei of islands in the sea, as well as the people who live upon and amongst the isles.  From this sacred place of the Northwestern  Hawaiian Islands, life began in the form of a coral polyp, and to this place, the spirits return at death.  A sacred name for a sacred place, certainly worthy of our love, protection and care-taking. Three cheers for the work of the Papahānaumokuākea Marine Debris Project!

To learn more, and to donate to this important work, visit their website at www.pmdphawaii.org.

Photo credits: Steven Gnam of NOAA

Marta literally hit ground zero when she broke a hold, careened off a cliff she was climbing, then slammed into the boulders 15 feet below, breaking 4 vertebrae in her spine. As she endured a 12 hour journey to the hospital she had a lot of time for pondering. She arose from that fall asking herself, “If I’m given another chance at life, how do I want to live it?”

People who have come to Still & Moving Center for a long time recognize Marta as someone at my side from the beginning, helping me to design its remodel, create its logo, paint its interior and exterior wall decor, and take most of its early photographs. She even managed our operations for a year while heading up our aerial department.

Marta climbs rocks. Seriously. She’s a world class climber who likes leading the life of an adventuring nomad. Staying on Oahu for 7 years, married to a fellow climber and only occasionally going off-island on climbing trips, anchored Marta for a longer than usual time. Eventually, she responded to the call of those wild rocks – ours in Hawaii being pretty tame in comparison – and moved on. She and I have worked together over the phone and computer everywhere from Tahoe to Turkey to Tasmania. For reals!

Once she broke her back, things changed for Marta. She could no longer take things for granted that she had assumed about her life, her beliefs, her future.

She set to work straightening out the various dysfunctional relationships she had accumulated so far in her life, especially focusing on all the changes she needed to make to become the person she really wants to be.

The very week she and her husband finished remodeling the first home they had ever owned and were about to settle into it, Marta decided she needed a divorce. That started the ball rolling. To their credit, she and Dave have since worked through all sorts of old stories and habits to develop a close, valuable friendship.

Marta was creating the life she wanted to live. Realizing that she had more garbage/treasure from her past that she needed to sort through, Marta began working by phone with a local counselor here in Kailua, Nancy Rubin, on the recommendation of a close friends. As one of Marta’s friends says, “I could have saved myself years of therapy if I had worked first with Nancy!” Marta also benefited enormously from working with Nancy.

Moving from one climbing location to the next, Marta surrounded herself with a galaxy of interesting characters. In various friendships and romantic relationships, she noticed old patterns recurring and began finding ways to interrupt those patterns to put her relationships onto healthier footing.

Digging through her self-work, she gained insights that she then shared with friends who were struggling through life choices and relationships. Eventually her counselor said, “Marta, I’m so glad you are now finally ready to step into your life’s calling of working with people to help them on their journey of living more fulfilled lives.”

As much as that sounded amazing to Marta, she didn’t quite know how to get started. She took her time finding the way into her calling. She made an appointment with my business coach Tony Bonnici – a long-time mutual friend of ours and had him mentor her into the practice of coaching.

She began by gifting 100 coaching sessions, and enrolled herself in high level training with an international group of coaches. Once Marta opened her door and phone for public business, her client base expanded rapidly.

Marta and I talk weekly, checking in with each other. Sometimes we listen through snags we’re having with family, friends or co-workers. Lots of times we share inspirations we’re jazzed up about. 

Marta can be very clear-sighted, honest and direct. She also cares a lot. And she has the guts to re-make herself. I’d never wish a broken back on anybody. I’m glad, though, that she’s used her accident as a catalyst to seek the best way to benefit others and contribute to the world she lives in. She will serve a lot of people going through tricky, rough terrain that they’d have trouble navigating alone. 

 

by Marta Czajkowska

The more you schedule and practice discomfort deliberately, the less unplanned discomfort will throw you off center and control your life.” – Seneca

Seneca, a Roman Stoic philosopher, statesman and writer, suggested that anyone wealthy – like himself – benefits from practicing poverty. He walked his talk. Each month he set aside a few days to get away from the luxury of his comfortable bed, ate very little food and wore his shabbiest clothes.

The reason for this uncomfortable task? Completing it, he realized it wasn’t as bad as he had dreaded, and he felt much readier to face anything that life might have in store for him.

We can summarize the logic of voluntary poverty this way: Having comfort means having something we can lose. Fear of losing comfort enslaves us. However, when we deliberately practice discomfort, we diminish our fear of losing it. Merely thinking about misfortune won’t do the trick – for those of us who live comfortable lives most of the time, Seneca recommends that we create a situation of deprivation to prove to ourselves that we can do without, that neither comfort nor discomfort can master us.

We commonly fret and worry about the unknown. Our fears often have no basis in reality. Once we face an empirical experience of poverty, we know it, we’ve lived it. By consciously creating a worst-case scenario that frightens us, then going through it, we free ourselves of fearing it.

Seneca wisely taught: “Poverty is good for at least one thing: It’s an opportunity to practice forbearance and discipline, a chance to see that you would not be crushed by fate.”

How to practice poverty?

Deprive yourself of something that feels scary to lose. You can start small, giving up something comfortable to your body, your image of yourself, or your style of living. If you love your hot showers, how about trying a cold shower? Letting your hair go gray? Skipping dinner? Cleaning the toilet at work? Going a full day without spending any money? Taking a bus? Putting on no makeup? Sleeping outside on the ground?

Dig a little deeper. How about stepping down from a role that gives you status? Apologizing publicly for a misdeed? Spending a night on the street? The more threatening a poverty practice sounds to your ego, the more it may loosen your attachment to comfort and free you from fears of losing it.

“Poverty is that heavenly virtue by which all earthy and transitory things are trodden under foot, and by which every obstacle is removed from the soul.” – Saint Francis of Assisi

If you were writing your Ode to Joy, how would it sound? And how would you achieve it?

As we look into a new year, a new decade, with the theme of Deep Joy at Still & Moving Center, I’m wondering what it is that brings this sense of Joy. It’s not the kind of joy whose opposite it sorrow. This Deep Joy often finds its way through a world of suffering and sorrow, to emerge, radiant, connected to everyone and everything. Kahlil Gibran reminds us that the deeper sorrow carves into our being, the more room we have for Joy.

Actually, I suspect that we truly find this Deep Joy to the extent that we feel our life has purpose, meaning. When what we do affects others – hopefully positively – our existence here on earth has made a difference. It takes some people a long time to find their specific mission, and in the meantime, everything we do can be a preparation for it. Sometimes it just falls into our lap, after a long period of yearning and waiting. I didn’t know I was meant to open Still & Moving Center until 7 months before we opened, and I was 55 at the time.

I can’t tell you how much Joy it’s given me since then to hold space for our students, teachers, therapists and staff to “claim their magnificence” in this community center / school of moving meditation! I certainly could never have accomplished it any earlier in my life, as my work, study, family, professional experience, and spiritual practice all formed necessary foundational stones.

The book I’m reading now, ­­­­­­­­The Great Work of Your Life: A Guide for the Journey to Your True Calling by ­­­­­­­­Stephen Cope, is all about finding and pursuing our dharma, a richly conceptual Sanskrit word meaning our life-purpose, duty, raison d’être. The underlying assumption is that each of us comes into the world with a unique purpose to fulfil. If we look at our circumstances and at the many attributes of our natures, we can find what it is we are best suited to do in this life. It may or may not be how we earn our living, financially speaking. It always has to do with how we find the soul-satisfaction of finding and doing what we do best.

I love the author’s real-life examples, such as Harriet Tubman, a black slave who had watched her family members being split and sold to other plantations. After escaping herself, Harriet helped thousands of others to freedom via the “Underground Railroad” of which she was a “conductor”. She performed these services at great personal risk. She was a highly WANTED person by Southern plantation owners whose slaves she was spiriting away. They wanted her re-enslaved or dead. While she could have stayed safely in the North, Harriet felt absolutely compelled to return to the South again and again to rescue others, regardless of possible consequences.

Harriet showed an uncanny ability to avoid capture, to change plans in a twinkling based on an intuition that told her to do so. As a Christian, she always felt as if she was guided and protected by Providence. She asked for no payment for her services, and even after the Civil War and Emancipation of the slaves, she lived the most modest of lives in meager circumstances. Doing our dharma doesn’t always yield a pay check. I imagine her satisfaction, her Joy, at realizing how many people she had saved from cruelty and led to freedom, how many families she had reunited.

Ludwig van Beethoven’s fulfilling of his life purpose led him through tremendous suffering in other ways. He was born to a musical family, receiving his early musical training from his father, a talented but hard-hearted man. Ludwig developed such an eccentric personality, it was difficult to spend time with him. No one else at the time could completely comprehend the new rhythmic and melodic structures he was creating. Yet his dedication to his work and his genius as a musician, composer and conductor dazzled all the society people of his day.

To his horror, Beethoven began losing his hearing while still in his twenties. He first tried to hide it from people, then went into seclusion. Being thwarted in the occupation he so brilliantly performed, he questioned his existence, came close to losing his mind, and contemplated suicide. Yet he kept hearing the music in his head, in his soul. Beethoven held onto his musical dharma for dear life – literally – when all else failed him, and went on to compose his greatest masterpieces after becoming deaf. He came to realize that the world needed his music. Only by bringing forth the music moving within him did Beethoven find a sense of peace, even Joy.

Indeed, he composed his final complete symphony, Beethoven’s 9th, based on Schiller’s poem “Ode to Joy”. Its debut performance in 1824 happened less than three years before his death at age 56. Violinist Joseph Böhm recalled the performance:

“Beethoven himself conducted, that is, he stood in front of a conductor’s stand and threw himself back and forth like a madman. At one moment he stretched to his full height, at the next he crouched down to the floor, he flailed about with his hands and feet as though he wanted to play all the instruments and sing all the chorus parts. — The actual direction was in [Louis] Duport’s hands; we musicians followed his baton only.”

Beethoven was several measures off and still ‘conducting’ when the musicians finished the piece and the audience began applauding exuberantly. One of the singers then walked over and turned Beethoven around to accept the audience’s acclaim. Even though he could not hear their clapping and cheers, he could see their five ovations, with handkerchiefs in the air, hats, and raised hands.

While the audience’s reception undoubtedly gratified Beethoven when he saw it, he was in a state of utter Joy directing his symphony before he ever turned around to see their response.

Mahatma Gandhi found an entirely different path to Joy. His life course led him from fear as a child and dismal failure as a young lawyer, to eventually leading the entire nation of India to freedom from the British Empire. To shrink the vastness of his 80-year life story into a few words, Gandhi came to realize that he did indeed have assets and abilities that he could access… but only when he stopped worrying about his own success or failure and instead put himself to work for the sake of others. Just as a trustee for a non-profit organization takes care to see that all the organization’s assets are put to the highest and best use, Gandhi came to see that his life did not belong to him, it belonged to the world.

With that realization, Gandhi cheerfully spent years locked in British-run prisons for his non-violent civil disobedience campaigns to free his people. He faced seemingly insurmountable obstacles and willingly looked death in the face on many occasions, knowing that his life was being spent for a greater cause than himself, following his dharma. Personal suffering became insignificant to him – it was all part of a deeper Joy.

Most people’s dharma lines are less grandiose – and absolutely as valuable – as those of Harriet Tubman, Beethoven and Gandhi. Yet the example of these three people’s lives begs the question of us: Are we open to finding and refinding our dharma, our life path, which could lead us – and others – to Deep Joy?

Dancing in Joy and resting in stillness with you,

Renée Tillotson

And you, dear reader?
Just hit reply – I always love hearing from you.

from Steve Stephenson, 3 Foot Giant

Life may not always go the way we want it to. Here is a way to reverse-engineer your day to achieve your best life version possible:

  1. Think of times when your life works well! What are key things you do during those times? Write down 16 items that you do when your life works. These will be 16 activities for self-care. Dig deep.

Here are some examples:

  • Dance (Sean provides a 3 minute Dance Party below!)
  • Shower
  • Play Frisbee golf
  • Eat salad
  • Connect with a friend
  • Meditate
  • Drink water, etc.

2: Do at least 4 items from your When Life Works List every day. Make a monthly or weekly chart for tracking your daily progress in doing those 16 activities. Better yet, use your 2020 Still & Moving Center almanac daily for tracking your 4 When Life Works items!

3: Repeat for 3 months. Note the changes in how your life works! 

See the first video below to hear Sean talk about his own When Life Works List.

 

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My grandmothers always seemed old to me. In 1967 when the Beatles brought out the song “When I’m Sixty-Four”, my grandmothers’ average age was about 64, and I was 11 or 12. Could I imagine ever being that old myself? I doubt it. Well, here I am approaching my sixty-fourth birthday in a few days, and I STILL don’t think of myself as being much like my “old” grandmothers!

I’m probably going through some of the same physical changes they did at this age. I’m amused to see little ‘wings’ flapping a bit under my arms. My belts need to be a little longer than before. My nose is longer and my face is becoming more topographically “interesting”, shall we say. These inevitable battle scars of life seem fairly insignificant compared with the joy I get dancing, spending time with family and working with wonderful people at Still & Moving, both local and from around the world. Thankfully, both my grandmothers blessed me with the genes for a sturdy constitution, and each of them modeled strength of character.

Here’s a mental snapshot of the two: My mother’s mother, Granny was demure with a broad, smooth face and dark brown eyes, always wore dresses when I was a child. My Grandma Coleman on my dad’s side was a little pistol with rackling blue eyes, casually clad at home in her housecoat, shorts or slacks. Neither of them, at age 64, would have dreamed of strolling about in the dance/yoga clothes that I wear.

My grandmothers endured both World War I and II and the Great Depression. They lived at the time when proper ladies wore girdles. I don’t really know what they thought about or exactly what they believed in. They really cared about their children and grandchildren – that I do know. To me, they were just my Granny, the calm, retired school teacher (I remember her rolling rivelly noodles between her hands, and her neighbor’s horse that we got to ride in the field behind her vegetable garden), and my Grandma Coleman, who joked around a lot (she made mayonnaise salad for Grandpa and had a penny slot-machine at her basement that sometimes gave us jackpots!)

I’ve enjoyed so many opportunities that my grandmothers never had…who knows what they might have been like if we’d shared more similar life experiences? And I believe that – through my parents – these women set me up for the life of remarkable opportunity.

My mom’s mom, Granny, had an easier life than Grandma Coleman, financially, being the granddaughter of a respected businessman working with local farmers. Yet worldly opportunities did not abound in the town of 700-800 people where Granny lived, taught in a one-room school after 6 weeks of Normal School training, married and raised 5 children. She then returned to the elementary classroom during WWII and taught for another 25 years.

Granny was married to Pop, and they did their best  with the accepted parenting practices of the time. Every Friday when Pop came home from out-of-town work, Granny told him their two sons’ misdeeds of the week. He would take the boys, and occasionally my mischievous Aunt Jane, out to the woodshed for a licking. (I like to imagine that Pop and the kids sometimes staged some loud noises and crying to give the appearance that justice had been served.) I’m sure neither parent savored this routine; they just considered it as their duty to raise their children properly. Unlike Cliff and I, they never took their children on family trips – their car would not have held that many kids, in any case. The boys went off to fight WWII. Unlike many small town parents, Granny and Pop encouraged their girls to get an education.

Granny and Pop lived in a two-story brick house across the street from her parents’ home. By the time I knew them, they enjoyed a more relaxed life together.  When my brother, cousins and I came to visit, we played dominoes and rummy on Granny’s kitchen table, while she told my mom stories about very ordinary things that happened at the market or during the last snowstorm. “Well, you know….” she would always start. I liked listening to her. And she always sent us birthday cards with checks.

Grandma Coleman had been a 21-year-old widow, returning back to rural Ohio from Arizona where her husband had died of tuberculosis. She had travelled across country by unheated train with no food service, three children under age five, her late husband’s corpse in the baggage compartment, and the $12 her neighbors collected for her trip at the start of the Depression. There on a hardscrabble farm, she began raising my dad and his two sisters alone.