Re ~ New

The etymology of this one is easy. Literally, it means “new again.”

But doesn’t the definition of “new” mean something that hasn’t existed before? So how can something which hasn’t existed before, become…again?

Everyone had intentions for the trip… to embrace, enjoy, explore, etc. Mine, for myself and for all of us, was to renew. To introduce practices and rituals that are new or long forgotten. Something which would remind us of the connections to our deeper selves, to one another and to the land. The setting—the property and the people we met here—couldn’t have been more perfect for that. Each morning we meditated—kirtan kriya, metta, so hum. Every meal was vegetarian or vegan and as close to the source as one can get! Much of the food grown on the property. We drank warm fruit and herb water, no sugar, no alcohol and less caffein than I might have been used to. Detoxing from not only addictive foods, but also from technology, stress and the busyness of life. The evening routine consisted of yoga nidra, yin, moonlight flows, flowing conversation and star gazing around the fire. And in between, we sank into the relaxed approach to life that the Portuguese seem to have gotten right. All things, choose just one!, could be integrated into every day life once we returned home. A new touch point for peace of mind, a new habit, a new practice.

But I also didn’t want to forget the “re” part. Re-member. Re-turn home to something long forgotten. The ancient yogis say all suffering comes from forgetting our true nature as spirit. Sprit being the part of ourselves that animates us, that gives us life, worth, purpose and the part that is connected to the same Spirit which is in and through all things. Remembering we are one with the Spirit reminds that we are one with each other and with all things created. When we train our eyes to see in that way, we re-member. We honor the divine in ourselves, in others, and in all of creation.

A military veteran once told me they were taught to, “Look at less and you’ll see more.” When we first arrived at Orada, the crew wasn’t quite ready for us, so we walked the property, exploring the gardens, pools, and outdoor accommodations. At first look, the pool was a pool, a bio pool with water lilies floating at the surface and grasses around the edges. But when you stopped and looked at less, at one lily pad or a small clump of grass, you could see the family of water snakes who made the pool their home and the frogs sunning themselves on the glossy green leaves. The wisteria hung impressively off the side of a stone wall. You could pass it by and admire the beauty, but when you stopped and looked at a single clump of blooms, a whole enterprise of bees hummed through the vines busying themselves doing the things bees do. The flowers, the wall and the walkway hummed loudly with activity. When you stopped to look or listen at less, everything was much more alive than appeared with a broad sweeping glance.

Everything is complete unto itself, but each are also part of the greater eco system that, when working together, creates the balance, harmony and flow of the universe. The circles and cycles are all at the same time dying and becoming new again. Every day the sun rises and sets. Renewed. Every season rises and falls in its time. Renewed. Everything we experience is at once new and will come to an end, but even in the endings, those experiences will also always be carried forward into the next, never entirely ended nor new unto itself. Renewal, or as Princeton theologian Gerhardus Vos proposed in the early 20th century, “already, not yet.” Meaning we live in the now, as well as awaiting the age to come. Becoming new—again.

The lessons learned with the posture of being present in the now, looking with new eyes at the flow of what has always been, we learned the following:

At sun-down the crickets and frogs sang. They teach us to sing our own songs, unaffected by what others might think of our voice.
At midnight, a species of songbird started its chorus. They teach us there is hope even in the darkness, that the light and the morning is certainly coming.
The snails crawled peacefully, teaching us to take our time through life.
The sun had a moment of eclipse where the moon stood between us and its light. Reminding us light will return, that change is expected, and always, something is ending and something new is beginning.
In the resounding primal sounds of creation we participated in chanting cycles. Saa: infinity, the beginning; Taa: the existence and sustenance of life; Naa: death and transformation; and Maa: rebirth.

re~new

This was the opportunity to do less to become more. To dance with the universe and to re-member our holy and humble place within it, as it. To be re~newed. To be new. Again.