On New Year's Day I sat high up on a rock in the East End, overlooking the whole valley. Here I could immerse myself in the spectacular view of the majestic mountains, orange and avocado groves, and relax in the profound peace and stillness that still pervades this part of the valley.
Autobiography of a Yogini: Innocence, Illusion, Illumination
A Spiritual Memoir by Suza Francina
Book Description and Excerpts
About seven years ago I gradually changed my trip to work from a two-hour car commute to a refreshing ten-minute bicycle ride.
After a decade of driving the freeway, my soul had grown weary of watching the sun rise and set from behind the steering wheel. Working closer to home meant a cut in my income, giving up my new Mazda mini van and downsizing to an older Toyota.
Years ago I went to a market in Saanen, Switzerland and, much to my chagrin, they did not provide a bag for me to carry my groceries back to the chalet. I purchased a string bag on the spot, and after that I never again forgot to take my own bag to the store in Europe.
More recently, while visiting my relatives in Holland, I noticed that my cousin, like many other Dutch shoppers, brought cardboard boxes each time she made a trip to the store. For larger items or quantities, boxes work even better than canvas bags.
