We Made It!

No Internet Service Yet,

But We Made It!!!

Stay Tuned......many pictures and posts to come!!!

I love Okinawa!!!!!!

My Magic 8 Ball.....Japan!

And we're off!......almost.....

Moving to Japan this week!

For real!

Much anticipation!

Very excited!

Long time coming! Long time spent waiting for this day!

I see things in pictures like this, in the rice fields of Japan;

This is art created by carefully placed rice plants:

"Stunning crop art has sprung up across rice fields in Japan . But this is no alien creation - the designs have been cleverly planted. Farmers creating the huge displays use no ink or dye. Instead, different colours of rice plants have been precisely and strategically arranged and grown in the paddy fields. As summer progresses and the plants shoot up, the detailed artwork begins to emerge." ~RICHARD STEVENS What will this strange and wonderful place hold for me? For my family? Who will I love to meet? Where will I spend most of my time? What will our home look like? Feel like? How will I deal with being home sick? How will my daughter adapt and grow? Will I have more children there? Is there a local market where I can buy fresh produce that tastes unlike American produce? How much culture can I soak up in 2+ years? Will I never want to leave? Will I find eternal peace and nirvana? Will I have allergies? Will I travel to see the great Buddhist statues? Do they tolerate Americans, hate or love us? Will my husband like it? Will I teach Yoga there? Do Japanese people like Yoga? Who cares! I intend to find all this out. But I really see it as moving to any other place. If we were stationed in Oklahoma I would make the best of it and spread my love for humanity across the states. Here I will spread my love for humanity across the hemispheres. Study a new history to me. Bow to people in gratitude. Study a new language. And I will still be under the same moon as all of my loved ones and friends, so we will still be with you. Many blogs to come...as we go on our first adventure. I have to say a brief and deeply heartfelt message to the life and memory of Matt Freeman. He was a dear high school friend of my husband, Chad. He was a Captain in the Marines. He was shot and killed in Afghanistan. He was a legacy to his community and country. I attended his funeral this past week. I have no recent memory of being this moved. I was moved by military husband's, by my husband, their work, their honor for US and their United States. I could not stop crying and have still not stopped. I had just begun to communicate with Matt's wife who is stationed in Okinawa, where we are to go. I send many, many thoughts of love to his family and wife left behind. God bless.

I Only Ever Blog About What Truly Matters

Ramm Dass' 2001 movie/documentary Fierce Grace has stroked my life once and has returned to me just now.

Last time it was before a big move across the country from Georgia to Utah, where I was to live high atop a mountain almost off the grid at 10,000 feet that the movie found me just before my trek began. Once in Utah, I felt imprisoned. It was the hardest experience of my life. And now, just before my biggest move, internationally, to Japan, the movie found it's way to me once more. I hope to truly digest it this time around. I know I go where I am needed no matter what. I hope though, that this new venture will not be so hard what with my gained knowledge and life experience. The movie teaches us to find grace and supreme strength in even the hardest of conditions.

I believe everyone should watch it. He is one my favorite authors of all time.

He is highly intelligent with his wording.

He is humble and graceful in life and through his experiences.

Inspirational.

Life changing.

This film is important, check it out y'all. (See link below)

NAMASTE

http://www.ramdasstapes.org/vrd-fg.htm

Miracles Happen

It was at my Yoga teacher training certification when I first heard her name. And then just by chance, the law of attraction, God's work in my life or just the simple fact that she is simply SUPPOSED to be in my presence, that I happened upon this amazing woman quite a few more times in the following years.

Her name is Amma. She is the “hugging saint” to many, just a regular Indian saint to others. To some, she has healed their life. To me, she is the proof that miracles exist.

I had just turned 22 and I felt a strange push to go get a Yoga certification. I didn't even feel the least bit ready. I was by no means a Yogic master or Yogini. I had never had and still cannot say that I have worked with a master teacher for a regular period of time within the ancient art and philosophy of Yoga and feel ready to spread the teachings onto the world. But a drive almost completely subconscious in nature made me sign up for that random Yoga teacher training course in Litchfied, Connecticut. I was immature. I could not even do a head stand. I didn't know the first thing about Kirtan or meditating. But I had practiced Yoga for about 4 years, here and there. There were hardly any studios in America at the time. I practiced where I found teachers throughout my travels in the US, I searched for and read Yoga books and I religiously sought out and bought Patricia Walden and Rodney Yee Yoga videos for practicing at home. It was the Iyengar style of Yoga that first spoke to me. I see this as a gift since it is a style that has serious focus on alignment and form. But other than my private and meek practice, I was pretty much clueless. What I did know was I had a fresh and strong desire to learn more and then to pass on this peace to others. I wanted to do good in the world and that is all I knew as a young, college grad.

My first day at the Yoga teacher training consisted of us collecting our large stack of required texts and finding our rooms. We were to each have a roommate, unless we wanted to pay a ridiculous fee to have a private room. And as I signed in, it was apparent to my teacher I had not been assigned a bunk mate. So he said, “well, we will have to put you with one of the instructors,” as I am sure there were only so many rooms to go around and I had not paid that big fee. I recall I felt nervous to be roomed with a great teacher as I was feeling such a novice. But my learned Yoga instructor in Savannah, Hunter Leaf, gave me some wonderful advice as to how to squash that self consciousness. He told me “wherever you go and whatever you do, there will always be someone better than you and who is not as good as you.” And I'll be darned, he was right. From Art college to Yoga instruction, this came to always be true...so who cares! Hunter also taught me to just ask for guidance when I felt scared, from all the saints and sages of the past and present to be with me now. This was amazing advice. So I did. I asked for help and guidance from all those monks on a mountain from far away, from Jesus, from everyone great! Help me! Guide me! Allow me to not make a fool of myself!

My empty room was quaint. There were two beds and two dressers. I began unpacking. I made myself at home for the 3+ week course intensive. Classes began. I had yet to see my roommate. Well into our first day of lectures, my teacher stopped. He waved to someone coming into the back of the conference hall. It was a woman who I will never forget. In the back of our retreat room was a very tall, long blonde hair for miles, smiling face with a totally turquoise traditional Indian get up on, with bells on her ankles, blue, bright, eyes and a truly detoxified glow on her pale, pink cheeks. Lalita. And she was to be my bunk mate.

Lalita was a teacher at our certification who was there for the soul reason to teach about the practice of Kirtan, a form of chant. Some think it is religious chant, but it is not. Simply put: it is devotional music. Music that is like a list of prayers, gratitudes and rejoicing for our existence. It is a call and response style of music and sounds, sung from the heart which are meant to open up all the blocked or clogged energy centers of our body, spirit and mind. Yea, it is cool and I had no idea what it was before meeting Lalita. She was introduced to our class and I thought she was a beautiful and intimidating ray of light.

After class that day, I returned to my room. Lalita followed shortly after me and so did another young and beautiful woman, and fellow student of our class, named Darcy. I said hello to them and they back to me, politely. And they both began shouting in elation within their own conversation. Darcy asked Lalita, “so did you go?” “Yes! I got there in time” Lalita exploded! It was her reason for arriving late to our training. She went on to explain an experience she had just had meeting a woman named Amma. I could not help but listen in our small room. She told of how hundreds of people came from miles and miles and waited in long lines to see her. People came with disease, children who were deformed or missing limbs, poor people seeking wealth, rich people seeking spiritual guidance for their empty souls or meaningless and hopeless lives, and on and on. Tears came to her eyes as she explained what it was like to hug this woman. Lalita explained in great detail the bruise which lay on Amma's cheek from embracing, hugging and squeezing all these people, for all her life, every single day. She pulls each person who comes to see her all over the world on her tours and visits, into her arms, pulls them into her face and gives them a blessing, kisses and loving hug while wiping their tears away. I did not know much more than that about her for some time.

3 or so weeks pass of intensive Yogic training, philosophy classes, 5am meditations, frozen limbs, feet so asleep they prevent walking, joy and tears, nerves and fear and best of all celebration. My relationship with my funny roommate went from happy to odd to confusing to sweet. I was scared of her energy at times. I felt awed by her strong direction and strength. I had no idea what she thought of me. I felt I had offended her at times with my western ways in her eastern mind frame. She quickly told me over a breakfast, I could never upset her, nothing ever makes her mad, nothing bothers her......ever. Hm! Oky doky. I didn't understand her. She was older, much healthier, stronger and wiser than me, that is all I knew. I loved what she had taught us over the month and all in all I felt blessed to have her as my roommate. I felt much luckier to have a Yoga instructor to help me for my final exam than having another student to share a room with!

As a strict rule, we had to be silent after each dinner up until the completion of each breakfast the following morning. It took a load off, I must admit. If you pass someone on the way to the bathroom, no need to say hello for courtesy sake, just peacefully walk by. No needless chatter over breakfast, just consume your well-made, vegetarian food. We were not allowed to talk because it was a group of nuns who rented out this particular retreat center, so we were honoring their stringent Catholic tradition of silent hours. But even Lalita and her morals whispered to me that night before my final exam, “do you have any questions on how to teach your Yoga postures?” How kind I thought, I whispered back and forth with her for a while and she helped me greatly. So being fresh out of art school, I drew her a picture one final night in our quiet room. I left it on her bed and it contained a message of gratitude for her teaching us all and for helping me.

Before I left that crazy retreat, Lalita presented me with a gift back from her happiness with my drawing. In silence she handed me a pendant. It was an Indian coin-type thing. Later I learned it was the image of Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of creativity. And in silence, I gathered from her that Amma had given this to Lalita. And Lalita gave it to me. I cherished this gift. I immediately put it on a necklace and wore it 100% of the time. After a while, I took it off and would only put it on when I felt I needed strength. Like I do with most important and beautiful things, I gave it away about 8 years later to someone who I felt could wear it when she needed strength as well. But there in Connecticut, my deep relationship with Amma began.

I immediately went from my Yoga certification to teaching a class in downtown Providence, Rhode Island. The woman who owned that Yoga studio still is one of my favorite people, Sherri Ryan. She was the first person to hire me to teach and she is a shiatsu massage therapist. While going in one time to receive one of her amazing massages I saw a photo of an Indian woman sitting on her window sill. I asked, “who is this in this photo?” Sherri looked and shouted with glee, “that is Ammachi! My guru.” I thought only Ram Dass and hippies from the 60's had gurus but Sherri did too and she went on and on about Amma. I felt love, I told her about my Yoga certification experience and coin pendant and said I wanted to know more about this woman Amma. She told me amazing things and how she changed her life when she went to go see her and asked for a blessing. It was her experience visiting Amma that guided Sherri to open her own studio and then eventually gave me my first, wonderful place to teach!

After some travels and years later, I decided to leave Sherri's studio and move out west. I went to visit a group of friends from Savannah who now resided in New Mexico. We were sitting around a gorgeous dinner one beautiful Santa Fe evening and a girl who I had never met before started to talk about her recent visit to India. She brought up the name Amma. I stopped her. Elated, I asked, “what was it like to meet her, I have heard so many things?!” The girl simply said, “when I was sitting in an intimate cirlce in front of her, I felt like her skin was my skin.” Enough said. I got it. Amma was amazing and she kept popping into my life. Later that trip, I helped out at a wellness fair and there was a booth dedicated to Amma. I bought a picture of her. I talked with the American women who supported her humanitarian causes and were trying to spread her love and aid awareness to this part of the planet.

I have had her framed picture in my bedroom or meditation areas in each residence I have ever lived. Usually people feel strange when they find that I have a picture of a chubby Indian woman in my space. No one in my life now understands. But looking at her face, it reminds me of the love that she spreads, of who I used to want to be. The more I learn about her the more I know she is speaking to me, she is working in my life and God is present. What Amma stands for is nothing short of God's work.

Later on down the road, when the internet came into my life, I looked up Amma. She is so much more than a woman who hugs hurting people. She aids people with terminal disease. She has received awards from the UN. She fights for woman's rights in third world countries. She visits areas of natural disasters. She builds schools in poor areas. She embraces each and every person who comes to see her. She is a miracle to me. In the past 36 years she has embraced over 26 million people, including me with her life.

“Amma has been fighting world suffering by tirelessly offering hugs.” -New York Times

"She stands here in front of us. God's love in a human body." -Dr. Jane Goodall

Please view this link and experience what we should all strive to be and do. Please view this link and know that miracles do exist.
http://www.amma.org/amma/index.html
Namaste,
Becca

Moving to Okinawa, Volume 1

I am beginning to prepare for the biggest move of my life.

I feel anxiety. I cannot stand moving. I despise moving. Moving my home is very unnatural to me. I have tears. I have to say goodbye to my dog. I have to sell the car I love. The Army will pack all my things, each and every meaningless thing, but I am just getting rid of special collectibles and some of my sweet stone collections because I have grown tired of packing and unpacking them. I am dismal. I am sad. This is not in my nature. I am dark. I am tired. I do not sleep. I feel anxiety. Constant lists in my mind. No energy.

But then my darling daughter makes me smile.

And then I look at a picture of an Okinawan beach.

And I get through another day.

Summer Lovin'

I love Summer to bits and pieces!!!!! Maybe it is because my own birth was this time of year? To me it has been and still is the mystical combination of; trips to the pool, warm nights cool with conversation on back porches, sun smiling in my happy day time eyes, frigid, crisp apples, toddler dancing through the grass and hose's rainbow sprays of clean, cold water to soothe hot skin on arms and face, darkened skin, pink cheeks sweet with a small sting of the sun, it all makes my body open, vibrant and shout out in excited abundant happiness like fireworks from my gut and heart! Additionally, my birthday was in June and I celebrated turning 30 years! I am loving this shift, new decade and season!

This is all why I have not been blogging as much either! Ha! Been having too much fun.

So I have many good posts to come. I decided rather than blabbing daily or almost daily about meaningless thoughts or experiences, I will instead only post when I have something really important and big to say, which really still happens about once a week (smile). I was a Yoga instructor for many years...still am...just taking a sabbatical to rest, learn and grow for now....but teaching requires you to be inspirational to your students, or at least try to be and also have a lot to say. And I felt, before my certification, that I did have a lot to share. I am nothing special. No one more ordinary or extraordinary than the next chic. What I have had is the large gift of struggle, pain and have been taught by some AMAZING teachers. So I felt the need to pass it all on. I sought/seek to pass on what I have learned from injuries and "mistakes" and also what I have taken and digested from some wonderful Yoga and meditation instructors as well as some righteous college professors. And so my blog turned into an extension of my teaching. A dharma talk at the end or beginning of each Yoga class seeks to cradle a lesson or idea explained and to be inspirational (hopefully) to the students as they practice or take their Yoga into daily life. My blog will just be a longer version of these ideas I am finding. And I am diggin' it. So please check back often. Currently in the works, I have an article on life lessons and Mothers coming as well as a miraculous story I have experienced about the Indian Saint Ammachi who is in a word: extraordinary.

For now my writing has taken a backseat to playing in the sun with my daughter, Mirabelle. For those of you who do not know, the name Mirabelle in Latin and French means: wondrous beauty like a miracle. We loved that meaning for a traditional southern name!! For where we met, the good ol' south, Chad and I thought this baby name was perfect. And it turns out it is. It turns out that our daughter has a beauty that far surpasses our own. She truly is miraculous to us and brings wondrous beauty and light into our daily lives. Here are some shots to share from our last few days.

Be blogging again soon, and everyone....please ENJOY your summer!!!!! I send so much love and wondrous beauty to you all.

I Love Rolls! (the dinner AND the belly kind)

~A Letter to All Women

This message is a huge warning to women of all ages, shapes and sizes. It is what I know for sure and what I have thoroughly learned the hard way.

Simply put: LOVE YOURSELVES JUST AS YOU ARE THIS MINUTE. Make it a point to drown your whole body in self adoration for always. Fall in love with yourself until you feel sick and conceited. Spoil yourself with kindness every single day. Look in the mirror each and every time you brush your teeth, put your contacts in, primp your quaff, check for spinach in your smile, look for wrinkles or when making sure the sleep is out of your beautiful eyes and dance within the beauty of your inner self, your spirit and your image. If you do not, who will? Do not wait for a man or partner, family or loved one to do this for you. That is empty.

I have recently come to realize, completely understand and fully absorb that we are FAR too hard on ourselves. This is a typical subject matter. I have been hearing for some years now on TV and in girly mags (that don’t really support what they say) that there is a self esteem issue in this country, among young women, that needs to be dealt with. I have always known this. And even still, I have been far, far too hard on myself. If you were to ask my best friends, they will tell you! I am my own worst critic. I insult myself all the time. And recently, I have seen photos of myself (pre-baby) that knock my socks off, yeah back when I had steadily hated my body, was constantly dieting and continually had a self image that was dumpy.

Another new mom-friend of mine said the same happened to her, being shocked when seeing pictures of herself from before baby, after the baby, wandering why she was so hard on herself. So post-baby many (not all, but many) of us have saggy boobs, stretchy belly skin, maybe some uber-sexy stretch marks on chest, belly, butt or thighs, pick your favorite flavor! And then, we look back at photos of ourselves in high school or college and think, “why the heck did I hate my thighs THEN?!” While both my friend and I would not ever change what we have now for those high school days, our ideas on image now and then still surprised us.

Many, who know me, know full well I have always had, most of my life, a mental and physical issue with my stomach. Yeah so I have a physically weak stomach no matter whether I am on a division 1 collegiate sports team, working out hard every day OR if I decide that I really just don’t feel like exercising or watching what I eat or drink for say a YEAR still, they are always there, haunting me. The belly rolls. Yes, the belly rolls that wrap around, via your side waist, and give birth to the back fat. You know the rolls I am talking about….mmmhhhmm, the ones right under the back of your bra strap that just totally complete any outfit you put on, yup, that one, going right along with the muffin top.

My issue with my belly peaked at a time in college long before the thought of having children came along. I had noticed a frumpy middle on my bod for sometime but never put much thought to it. I decided to love myself no matter what and put a bikini on for a water ride I went on with a bunch of friends. Like a lot of amusement parks will do, there was a picture taken right at the most pivotal moment of the ride, you know, right at that moment when everyone looks their most attractive!? So I was at the head of this lovely log-floom-type ride, in front of a line up all of my much skinnier, model-esque, no belly fat-having girlfriends behind me. No worries, I said to myself! “I loves my pretty self and my string bikini, I am having some water ride fun and feeling good.” Until……we all walked off the ride, met up with our guys in the group at the exit, only to find a humongous, multiple TV screen wall of our picture broadcasting for everyone in the entire park to see. On screen upon giant screen there I was, right up front, arms in the air and belly rolls on top of disgusting belly rolls displayed as we descended down a steep water slide hill, all in a still frame, frozen, never ending shot. The guys laughed and made fun of my belly fat. The girls shushed the guys, trying to protect my feelings and I just stood there, completely and utterly mortified, stiff with embarrassment and extremely sad. I laughed it off like I was a chubster and, “oh well, silly picture!” But it killed me inside. Did I really look THAT bad? “I guess I do,” I thought. I always knew I had a little bit of a tummy but never imagined it to be as huge, look as nasty and feel as obese as it looked up there, that day on all those huge TV screens. I was scared forever. It made me hate myself worse than I already had my whole life. No matter what I do I can never get rid of those belly rolls, the heart ache or the tears they bring.

I believe that outwardly, excess body weight is a representation of an inward imbalance, either mental or physical. I can tell you the exact time I started accumulating belly fat. It was just after a bad experience I had with a terminated pregnancy. Ever since, that horrific experience my body dramatically started changing. It was not quick though, it was a slow change, but dramatic all the same. I am now a woman who has that and many other things to heal and seek balance with. I do work on the healing regularly.

So ladies my point is, the mental imbalance is all there before we have a little bundle of joyful perfection of a baby and before that skin is stretched. It is there before we sit on the couch for too long with the Frito-Lays. It is there if we are too thin and hate our bony-ness. It is there if we are enslaved and believe in some way we deserve this treatment from either ourselves or others. Either we find ways to torment our hearts and to keep ourselves hidden from something scary, or we let the torment of others break into our perfect shell and afflict us. It is the lack of self-esteem. How dare us? We are God’s children, created in His image! We are all Divine. How dare we ever for one milli-second ever not totally bathe in love and Light?

I told a friend this once: I believe it is our duty to seek and find the very hidden reasons for why we abuse ourselves. We all do it, in one way or another. I know girls who do not eat right; they either are bone thin or over weight. I know girls who drink too much alcohol. I know girls who use illegal drugs. I know girls who insult themselves far too often. I know girls who put cigarette smoke in their lungs all day long, week by week, year by year. I know girls who join more than one gym so as to not be seen too often at one and work themselves out to death in search of the "perfect" figure. I know girls who have let men hit them. I know girls who have starved themselves or thrown up to near death. I know girls who are reckless with their bodies and have sex with too many men. I know, very well, about all of this. I do not look down upon each person’s path. I believe there is a reason for each and every choice and experience we have. Life is not random. It is amazing. There are amazing experiences to be had. And if there is a word called amazing, then there is Divinity. Something beautiful exists and it is tying us all into our woven cloth of life and existence. I do not believe we are all floundering. I do not believe there are mistakes. I believe each moment of failure is a moment of grace. We will understand what it is all for. Either we get it all put together in understanding in this life, if we seek to, or in the next. And I think it still exists as an understanding energy within our Universe no matter when it happens, before death or after.

I had a Grandma who passed away in 2004. She lived a trying life. She celebrated life. She was feisty. She was the mother of eight. She was the wife of two. She left her first husband, my grandfather. Grandma told me all about her experiences with this, one day on a sunny porch when it was just her and me. It was not a normal thing to be Catholic and divorced in her world at the time, but she did what she felt was right for her and her children. She went on to work and raise her children alone. She lost a son who was only 18 years old, early on. My Grandmother was a strong, peaceful woman. Her self esteem came through in her image. I saw it. I talk with her regularly. I feel her around me. I feel connected to her. She teaches me still. I feel her in my hands, and in my belly. Life continues on, I do believe and lessons and gifts exist everywhere in time.

I know women who are talented and strong professors. I know women who are happy with the changes in their bodies and revel in the fact that they can nourish and develop another human life, no matter what they now weigh. I know women who do and teach Yoga regularly regardless of their pant size and change people's lives. I know women who see their body as a vessel for their precious soul and not as a mindless work out machine. I know women who write miraculous poetry. I know women who have studied alongside men in a time when most women did not even go to college. I know women who leave when a man does them harm. I know women who have healed themselves. I know women who are healers. I know women who love staying at home with their children and have no doubts about leaving a career. I know strong women who work over 40 hours in the corporate world and still are the nucleus to their husband, children and family. I know women who train for bicycle marathons so as to commune with nature and meditate on their life and inner strength. I know women who work in rehabilitation facilities. I know women who are nurses in stroke units of major hospitals. I know women who teach art to elementary students. I know these women well. It is women like these who I choose to surround myself with and strive to be like.

So if my belly is large, I am OK with that. I will always try to do my best at work outs, keeping fit for my strength and vitality. I do love to nourish my inner body with high quality foods and a balanced diet. So I allow myself a fine, warm, French dinner roll from time to time, not for one second thinking about the carbs. I work hard on not beating myself up all the time anymore. I go easier and easier on myself as time passes. I have to continually remind myself that I am equal to everyone else and I am beautiful, strong, talented and amazing. I am starting to believe it more and more, and as I do, more and more miraculous things occur in my life. It also might be that now I am choosing to see them. So the learning shift has been to not try and dig so hard to find the reasons for why I ever gave abuse to myself and my esteem, but rather, to totally focusing on the beauty within myself, and those other dark details of sadness, hurt and misery are just fading, fading, fading away.