get ready for the montreal zen poetry festival!
February 26th, 2009 by ian Posted in ascent, the glass seed
The second biennial Montreal Zen Poetry Festival will soon be coming to the snowy city with its unique mix of poets, calligraphers, translators, publishers, and Zen monks. Guests will be arriving from across Canada and the United States with elegant and enlightening words for the weekend of March 6th to 8th.
The festival programme includes panel discussions, writing workshops, the Paul Hsiang Poetry lecture, Zen meditation, and of course, poetry readings from a lineup of poetic luminaries. This year the festival theme “forget the words!” is inspired by the ancient Chinese text, the Chuang Tzu, and seeks to explore the tense but intimate connection between words and Zen practice. Poet and festival guest, Chase Twitchell, explored this theme with festival organizer, Talya Rubin, in the recent ascent article forget the self.
Organized by members of Enpuku-ji/Centre Zen de la Main, a small urban Zen temple in the heart of Montreal’s Plateau, the festival was launched in 2007 to introduce the larger community to the culture and practice of Zen Buddhism. The Zen Centre and ascent magazine have been close allies over the last ten years as two vital spiritual and cultural facets of Montreal. For more information on festival events, readers, and tickets please visit the Montreal Zen Poetry Festival website. If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
the yoga of the hands
February 12th, 2009 by chris Posted in the glass seed, timeless
Not all that long ago, everything we ate, wore or lived in was formed by human hands. The rise of the industrial age transformed our lives from hand-crafted to machine-made. Have we lost anything in the balance? I’ve noticed in the past decade a rise of artisan bread or pastries, artisan cheeses, small-batch coffee roasters….hand-crafted culture is making a come-back. Could it be that the bread I buy from a local artisanal bakery tastes of more than just flour, salt and water? Does the hand-woven hot pink scarf my son gave me for Christmas keep my neck warmer than one made by machines? When I was writing The Glass Seed I worked with my hands a lot, sewing a quilt, trimming a skirt with heritage buttons and making jewelry. Something drew me to these projects as I sorted out how I felt about my mother, her illness and my role as a woman in the culture. I found them meaningful and satisfying, an antidote and (yes, maybe even) a redemption for the struggle and suffering that can arise when any of us face loss. There’s a fair bit of talk in the yoga world about the three main bandhas, energy locks that exist in the body’s core. Less often discussed is the hasta bandha in the hands. This bandha draws up and makes use of the Earth’s energy. Am I making full use of my hands, both as I practice the asana and as I find my way through this life? If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
revolved triangle
February 27th, 2008 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
What does the asana revolved triangle have to do with promoting The Glass Seed? I found out last week when I made a journey back to my childhood home in the United States. Martinez, California is a small town east of San Francisco. It has been somewhat engulfed by suburban sprawl in the three decades since I left to attend university, but still feels much like the cohesive community that helped shape me to be who I am. Thanks to development restrictions, the golden hills dotted with the stately, dark green forms of California live oak remain much as I remember them. There was lots of Martinez pride for the local girl made good. I attended a crowded booksigning at the tiny and fiercely independent Sheila Grilli Books and a few days later received a proclaimation from the City Council declaring February 20 as “Eileen Delehanty Pearkes” day. At both events, I experienced love and admiration for my parents, two long-time members of the community who, before they passed away in 1999 and 2007, shared great energy and love with the citizens of Martinez throughout their adult lives. My return was a chance for people to honour the memory of my parents, as well as my own accomplishments. If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
Revolved triangle requires a strong standpoint, feet firmly planted as the body bends down (with humility) and twists around (to look back). As I returned to my mat this week, I have thought about the poise and balance that my recent book-touring required. Graciously accepting recognition offered by the place and people that helped form me felt a lot like the steady intention of looking back, standing firm and breathing evenly in revolved triangle. I am ever grateful for my yoga practice, which brings greater meaning to my life in so many ways.photo of Swami Lalitananda by andrea rollefson
taking wing, flying straight
February 11th, 2008 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
Morn’s rising sweet With charm of earliest Birds. (Milton, Paradise Lost, IV. 642) Sometimes, when I jump forward from downward dog into a seated position during my yoga asana practice, I raise up to my fingertips before I begin the journey. Inevitably, when I do, I nearly fly right past myself, surprised by a successful execution of the “jump-through” — a form of yoga-flying. Though the jump-through is a cherished accomplishment, I have found that it is more than I’m ready for. Staying grounded in a yoga practice is, for me, an ongoing challenge. I watch finches feeding from my studio window as I write. They are energetic little birds who gobble the seeds and chatter to each other happily until they sense movement (from a camera-wielding blogger or a dog or a fierce gust of wind). Then, they alight like a shattered cloud and retreat high into a nearby maple tree for safety. A flock of finches is known as a “charm.” I have come to see these little birds as a form of magic. The charm so inspired me several years ago when they first stopped by my garden that they ended up in The Glass Seed, a memoir recently published by timeless books. I’ve been thinking about the finches lately as I prepare to fly off again, this time to California (where I grew up) to promote the book in the Bay Area of San Francisco. I will be one small finch in a very large sky, carrying a book in my beak, trying to fly straight and high and stay grounded at the same time. If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
outside the comfort zone
January 27th, 2008 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
It may be sub-zero and snowing outside, but I’ve managed to get a Hippeastrum (also known as “Amaryllis”) blooming in a west-facing indoor windowsill. The rich red, trumpet-shaped flower is enormously beautiful — full of passion for life. When I stick my face up close to the scarlet surface, a flower on this large a scale helps me understand what life might be like for a bee. 
A native of the tropics and sub-tropics, the Amaryllis in my Canadian windowsill blooms way outside its comfort zone. I marvel at how rapid the process has been, given the right conditions. I placed its large, bare bulb in a pot of soil just a few weeks ago.
Like the bulb supports the flower, yoga gives me the spiritual support I need to unveil beauty, colour and form in my own life, though I’ve been proceeding at a snail’s pace compared to this speedy bulb. And since I launched The Glass Seed and began an ongoing round of readings, book-signings and workshops in November, I have been operating far outside my comfort zone. As I have opened my typically introverted self to the wide world, the yoga-bulb, that storehouse of wisdom and knowledge, has supported my journey every step of the way.
There is lots to discuss and disbute about how North American culture applies the ancient traditions of yoga. The practice has taken hold here relatively quickly, and some would say without respect for the ancient connections. I’ll be watching with interest to see the colour, shape and form of yoga as it transplants and puts down roots in a decidedly different climate altogether.
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seaweed yoga
November 19th, 2007 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
Just before I set off for Montreal and Toronto to promote The Glass Seed, and just after the seaweed scandal broke, I filed a draft of my next article for ascent magazine, one in which I discuss yoga’s ethical principle, satya, or, “truth.” As the controversy cooked up on Wall Street, I happened to be studying and thinking about truth as it is defined in Hindu philosophy. I watched the seaweed scandal with great interest.
Truth is an important foundation for the practice of yoga. Speaking the truth, acting with integrity and living authentically — these are guideposts not only for yoga, but for the successful manifestation of any spiritual ideal. Life often has a way of keeping us honest, of reminding us that we should mind what we say and mean what we say, too. Lululemon just got a crash course in satya. Truth matters, in the end. Whether you practice yoga or not.
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the yellow watermelon
November 13th, 2007 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
This past summer, I successfully grew a yellow watermelon from seed to fruit before the cold weather arrived. I live in a mountain climate where spring arrives slowly in fits and starts and summer sometimes brings unexpected cool nights. My garden is hardly an ideal environment for growing watermelons. I was, however, spurred by the challenge and decided to give it a try. The result, pictured here in case you don’t believe me, is a reminder that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. When my knife slid into the perfect, green globe in early September, the fruit crackled with a juice and life unlike any store-bought melon I had ever split. I only harvested one perfect melon, but it was worth all the effort.
This morning, as I lifted my legs up into the air in a headstand at the end of my yoga practice, I thought about the yellow watermelon. There was a time when doing a headstand was an impossibility. I tried and tried for years, but I could not get those feet to rise without flopping back down again. I could not keep strong in my core, or balance on my forearms. And then, about a year ago, with the help of a wonderful teacher, I finally achieved a headstand. (Thank you, Katie.)
Now, I lift my legs with poise and strength. My entire body weight is balanced quite securely on my watermelon-head, a place, I am learning, of juicy possibility. With my feet swaying ever-so-gently in the air and that melon-head cradled between my clasped hands, I reflect on the balancing act that a mind requires — a feat nearly as remarkable as that of harvesting a yellow watermelon in a Canadian mountain climate. ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. A new mantra, to go with the memory of the sweet taste of a melon grown from seed.
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eileen delehanty pearkes in today’s gazette
November 12th, 2007 by luna Posted in ascent, the glass seed, timeless, yoga in the media
There’s a lovely article about Eileen and her new book in the Montreal Gazette today, in the Arts & Life section. To read it online, just click here.
For those of you who are in the Montreal area, ascent is hosting the Montreal launch of The Glass Seed at the rad’a space below our offices on Monday, November 19th at 7pm. All the details are below - we hope to see you there!
Montreal launch of The Glass Seed
at rad’a: 841 Gilford (at St-Andre)
November 19th, 7-10 pm **free admission**
Join us for a night of storytelling & community. Readings by Eileen Delehanty Pearkes and Vikki Stark (author of My Sister, My Self, which has been shortlisted for this year’s Mavis Gallant Prize for Non-fiction). Musical interludes by Jane Gabriels. The readings will be followed by a discussion on spirituality, feminism & healing . This event is not to be missed!
About The Glass Seed:
The Glass Seed takes a feminist slant on our cultural beliefs about caring work and the complexities of sustaining compassion while caring for a dying parent. It’s very much grounded in Pearkes’ experience of being a woman who’s working through conflicting ideas about femininity and feminism. Her thoughts are insightful, and her research is impeccable. The book has been called exquisite, lucid and thoughtful.
When Pearkes first realizes that her mother has Alzheimer’s disease, she begins to consider what it means to be a mother, a daughter and a woman. During a winter spent in quiet reflection, she gathers historical, religious and mythic perspectives on beauty and womanhood which feed her contemplation of her own mother-daughter relationship.
Lyrical and intimate, Pearkes’ voice resonates with the seasons as she takes us on a journey through winter to spring, from disintegration to wholeness. The evocative language of The Glass Seed reveals the influence of yoga, and an intensely personal approach to the politics of womanhood, from this emerging writer in the literary tradition of women’s spiritual memoir.
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the muse’s greenhouse
November 5th, 2007 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
The studio where I write began its life many years ago as a potting shed without a door or windows. Twelve years ago, I added windows to let in light, a woodstove for heat and a door for privacy. That’s how I converted an ordinary garden shed into The Muse’s Greenhouse. Such a place becomes more important as the dormancy of winter draws near.
Greenhouses help gardeners extend the growing season. They provide warmth, light and protection for tiny plants as they emerge. Muses, for their part, provide important inspiration for the creative process. The Muse’s Greenhouse nurtures the seeds and seedlings of my writing projects. Some of these projects have become full-fledged plants (like The Glass Seed .) Others are still in the germination stage, or, they are growing stronger but still need the protection that a greenhouse offers.
Around the Muse’s Greenhouse is my garden, a mixed and often tangled mass of flowers, fruit and vegetables. I encourage self-seeding and seem to inspire abundance more than order. This style of gardening is not far off the way my creative mind works, coming up with more projects than I have time to complete; changing the subject frequently.
Thomas More, an ardent spokesperson for the care of the soul in modern times, suggests that if we cannot love things in particular, we cannot love the world. My own love affair with the world begins at the detailed level of a leaf, a flower, a piece of harvested fruit or a scavenged pinecone — things I find in the wild or in my cultivated garden. I carry my fascination with the particular through the yellow door and into the Muse’s Greenhouse.
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to bloom is work
October 30th, 2007 by eileen Posted in reflection, the glass seed
Last weekend I spent a few days “putting the garden to bed,” an expression gardeners use to describe such work as cutting down annual plants blackened by frost, raking leaves, digging fresh compost into 
As I worked, I wandered through the garden in the weak, late-October sunshine, marvelling at the flowers that still bloomed despite the frosts that had touched down on previous nights. I began to salvage what I could, clipping sunflowers, a few brave zinnias and dahlias — lots of dahlias — and carrying them into the house.
I have to admit that I was weighed by feelings of regret as I worked. Why can’t flowers bloom all year round? Why must the lovely colours fade, the delicate petals dry up? The salvaged flowers that I stuffed into vases and jars will not, I know, last long.
During revisions to The Glass Seed last winter, I learned about Thalia, one of the three mythic Graces who entertained the gods on Mount Olympus. Thalia was also called The Flower-Bringer. She was ever-present in mythic times with a basket of blooms to beguile the gods with scent and beauty. In my mountain garden, she appears for only a handful of months out of the year. She works hard bringing life into bloom and then she slides away, carried by a frosty autumn wind into the reaches of idea and imagination.
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Read more about Eileen’s new book The Glass Seed at www.timeless.org.
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