When the earth begins to shake beneath our feet
and the stars refuse to shine,
When the weight of the sky tumbles to our shoulders
and there is no star left in the sky,
Through the darkness,
Through fire and rubble,
We seek.
When the connection is made
between your eyes and mine,
When mountains and infernos
threaten all we've built,
Through the darkness,
Through fire and rubble,
We meet.
The moment of peace,
The moment of silence,
The moment of truth,
I am you
and you are me.
Take my hand and breathe in what is us.
The stillness of now,
the truth of time.
Through the darkness,
Through fire and rubble,
Let the world crumble;
it does not shake our peace.
I’m all over the place this past week. I had plans for both Saturday
and Sunday but alas they were both canceled events. I wasn’t prepared to not
have a plan. I ended up scrolling through much of Netflix, not really selecting
anything, just reading the titles. My yoga mat sat by my desk looking tired.
I was stuck and in some ways I still am. My morning practice
is stiff and by the time I’m warm I have to finish getting ready for work. Work
has been slow and I am, quite simply, bored. I work on my website, read
Elephant Journal articles, check my email even though nothing new has popped
up, and thankfully accept tasks as they come up.
I haven’t written, I realize, in a little while. Well, I’ve
written but I haven’t completed anything and I haven’t shared anything.
To get out of my funk, I pushed myself to work on some
decorations for the office—school spirit themed. I painted some leaves, cut out
the bull symbol; fun stuff.
Last night while I was cooking dinner, I was listening to
Ted Talks. There was one about how we will never achieve our dreams, or
something like that. The guy talked about how we go for good jobs but allow
ourselves to be afraid of our dream jobs.
That got me thinking—what do I want but something is holding me back from moving forward. Ego. I’m getting so deep into thoughts
of yoga and I get to work on it every week—is my Ego sabotaging my progress? Am
I just afraid of not knowing? Well, yes, it is scary but I am hopeful. Hopeful
that the beauty and grace that yoga brings to my mind and body is real. Hopeful
that my practice continues to grow and that one day I will have the confidence
to teach a class and help people feel the way I do when I just let go. Hopeful for freedom.
Then I think, what else are my fears/ ego holding me back
from? What am I even afraid of anyway? I want to learn Japanese—at least enough
to communicate when visiting Japan. I also want to learn Chinese because I’d
like to communicate with people at the grocery store I shop at and expand my
network. Not that my current network includes many people. (Ego). I also want
to learn Spanish because it’s my background and it’s always awkward when people
ask me if I’m Spanish and why I don’t speak the language.
I also want to be passionate. I want to be involved.
Passionate about what? Well I’m passionate about the yoga community and the
beautiful intentions and morals it comes with. I enjoy helping people—that’s
why I’m at the library—but I want to do more. More than sit at a desk and wait
for questions. It would be nice to go to the community and give them the
opportunity to ask questions rather than seek me out to ask (doesn’t happen
often since that’s not my role at the library). I am passionate about service
and it’s scary because I don’t know how to go that route. I wasn’t taught to
serve, I was taught to work, to cook, to clean, to make a family. How do I serve
and pay the bills?
While waiting to hear back from job prospects I could be
volunteering in my free time. I’ve begun looking into ways to help the
community and now I’m recalling my conversations with my fellow YTT-ers. The
community I’m passionate about wants to contribute in a field I am passionate
about.
I may fail at my dream but the journey isn't worth it if it isn't my dream. Contentment is knowing that we have lived whether we succeed or fail. There is sweetness in every part of life and I will always remind myself.
Three years ago today.
You hear people say it all the time: "It's funny how time flies by."
And it really is funny because one moment you are waiting to go to yoga class and then three years later you are in Yoga Teacher Training.
I wish I could say I knew I wanted to work on becoming a yoga teacher.
If I felt then how I felt now, well, I would have said "I love you" to Alex first; I would have changed my major to Exercise Science or Health to be a nutritionist. I wouldn't have let myself be so afraid of failing science courses-- or afraid of anything else so petty.
There are a lot of things that the person I am right now would have done differently if sent back in time. The fact is that I'm here. I made all the choices I made in the past and without them, I may be somewhere different. Instead of writing this during my slow time at the library, I may not have ever written this.
Every moment has a purpose-- the one you give to it.
So this moment, three years ago today, is a reflection of my hopes today.
Someday in the future I will once again be asking people to let me be a part of their day. I hope to share some of the beauty this life has to offer. I hope to ask them to leave their troubles at the door with their shoes and bring their mats in with their hearts. I hope to be the teacher they deserve and a friend they can turn to when life just isn't what they thought it would be.
There is a Japanese a phrase Wabi-Sabi, it is a way of living that emphasizes finding beauty in imperfection, and accepting the natural cycle of growth and decay.
More and more my yoga practice supports Wabi-Sabi; accepting who I am today, where my body is at. I see the improvements that can be made but I also honor myself as I am-- beautiful in this moment, in this world.
Upon discovery, there was a moment of silence, a weight in the air.
I held her and comforted her with a warm hand on her back. +
Then others did the same.
Then she was left in her seat. The humming of machines continued.
What do you say when this occurs? I've become comfortable with silence-- allowing the person in pain to be in that state, to feel how they feel.
Others say "Calm down, don't get yourself sick."
But, really, don't we feel worse when we hold the sadness in? Don't we poison ourselves when we try to contain the uncontainable? The weight can be crushing, piercing, and even debilitating.
And yet when such events are discovered at work, we are expected to keep working the machine of our job. We are expected to continue on as if nothing had happened.
Yes, we continue our lives and work after someone close has passed on but shouldn't everyone be granted some time to mourn?
We are emotional creatures. Even when we practice aparigraha (nongrasping/attachment) we still feel. Emotions take time to process and accept.
Is our society so uncomfortable with death that we would rather push a gear in a machine even though it is missing a tooth?
A lot of work environments out there do understand but I'm not sure how I feel about those that brush raw humanity to the side.
This journey can be challenging sometimes. Not just with getting onto the mat (TAPAS!) but also deciphering new feelings and thoughts that come with diving deeper into myself. Discovering what I truly want is frightening because often I'm not sure how to make the proper motions.
So far I've found I don't want a full time job, but I need to make enough to pay bills. I've always known I want to help people but now I see that I want to give them the opportunity to break free from our society's norms and discover true health and wellness (i.e. gardening, yoga, food).
I have also found that I truly enjoy simple foods, not just because they're easier to make but also because I can taste each aspect of the meal: the nuttiness of quinoa, the umami of different mushrooms, the sweetness of a banana, the crunchiness of fresh cooked green beans, the crispness granted with fresh lemon juice in water.
My joy of simplicity extends out into other aspects of my life as well: the sound of natural running water, the warmth of Penny's belly, Alex's full-hearted laugh, the colors of blue in nature all around me, the feeling of being in a house made of logs (Lotus Pond, my Uncle's home on Bear Mountain NY), the feeling I get when looking at the colors granted to the sky as the sun rises and falls.
Maybe the proper motions are just doing what I enjoy doing and putting my all into it. This weekend Larissa, my pranayama teacher, touched on Ishvara-Pranidhana, the idea of letting the universe guide you. She shared how she's gotten where she is today by taking what opportunities are given to her and building from there. She doesn't seek out jobs, they come to her.
It is a rather difficult concept to get my western mind wrapped around it but I think the idea really stems from the power of initial inquiry: you touch the surface of the water with a stick one time and it ripples, the water is unsettled and shifts-- options move towards you.
So the lesson is, do what you love, the rest will come.
Climb up each twig and leaf, every sprig and chip. You reach the top and move around, feeling the warmth of the sun. You open the other wing to match the one that won't close. You feel the wind and you release your hold. You fall. You pull yourself up and climb once more to the summit. You try again. And you fall again. I watch you as you try , wondering what to do. You are only given two and one is hurt. I pick the limb that holds you high and look closer. You are calm, afraid for more reasons than one. I touch the extended wing feeling what you have lost. I stare. You stare.
I place you down and you lay still in the shade. A moment passes and you begin again. Trying and trying and trying again. Then you just stay at the top, the weight of what cannot be fixed grounding you to the peak of your branch. There you stay. What you think about I will never know but in this moment little bug know that you were not alone.
This past week has been chaotic as so often it can be.
Last Friday morning I had a beautiful personal practice. Forty minutes of just me, my mat, and some music. The day was off to a pleasant start. Alex and I went out to get some dairy free yogurt at Whole Foods. Then my car expressed real distress and earned the label of unreliable. There was a part that needed to be replaced and because of the design of my car, Alex was uncomfortable doing the labor himself. (No yogurt was spoiled, thankfully)
Then, Sunday, Alex's car decides to just not start while we are out grocery shopping. (We had tofu with us).
My reaction when both happened?
Okay.
Just a sincere sense of calm.
Perhaps it was the start to the weekend that made the calm possible-- my release of any stress and concerns allowed for fresh ones to be addressed properly. Perhaps it was because Alex and I were together. So often we have gotten out of wack when chaos finds its way into our day. I've found we so often do better together.
It has been some of the most inopportune times for these events to occur-- both because of cold foods and finances. Practicing yoga physically and mentally, I've found a healthy way to work through conflict: with serenity and compassion.
In light of this day, September 11th, these troubles are very petty-- and that is why stress does not serve me or anyone in situations like that. I am here today and I am as free as I allow myself to be. My heart goes out to those of you who have feel the pain from hatred and fear years ago on this day. May love help you help your heart, your body and your mind.
So much was hijacked that day; it wasn't just planes or lives. A whole culture was hijacked and tarnished in front of the world. Extremists are the cause, just as they always have been.
I leave you today with peaceful, loving wishes. May your heart find balance and compassion so that the spirit within you is fed with more light than darkness.
