From Here To Where, Exactly?
November 6, 2020 will mark a year since we set the newly-hatched baby turtles above, free into the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Troncones, Mexico. I often wonder how many survive to return years later to bury their eggs in the sand. For those of you who have joined me for my annual retreat Yoga On The Beach In Mexico, this is a familiar sight, an anticipated event, a treasured moment. How lucky we were to gently support Mother Nature to hopefully ensure the survival of the species. We are not going to Troncones this year. However, because I always have a positive outlook, I have booked it for October 30 - November 6 of 2021! The silver lining? This year, we were able to vote any way we wanted, drive folks to the polls, and work to ensure that the election was fair and equitable to everyone in our community,
Before Covid. In the old days. Back to normal. When this is over.
How often have you woven these words into a conversation recently? The interesting thing about these four simple phrases is that they distract us from living in the moment. And each moment is so damn important because, once it starts, it is over!
I write this because during the last 6 months I was convinced that I had been neglecting my moments. I felt sluggish, and labeled my inertia a "slump." I perfected the art of postponing. I longed for more work but when no one called, I was elated! I stopped walking my daily 10,000 steps, or any steps, and blamed it on the heat. My sivasanas turned into naps. I have not made my bed in 5 months. I have lost 8 pounds. What? How did that happen?
Before Covid, I often worked six days a week. I was up at 6:30am, in the shower by 7am, on the road or in my studio by 8:20am. I always carried my computer and books so I was never idle while waiting for a class, an appointment or a client. I even made lunch or snacks the night before so I could eat in my car! I had lists everywhere with a highlighter nearby so I could cross tasks off when they were completed. I wore my FitBit like an Olympic athlete and measured the success of my day by the number of steps I walked. If I was tired, I muscled on. I never said no.
In the old days, I think I was a little on autopilot. I plugged myself in in the morning, rewound or fast-forwarded during the day, depending upon the situation, and recharged at night in the hopes of gaining enough internal battery power to repeat the next day. I enjoyed time with friends and family but as I reminisce, I realize that I did not always nurture these moments...smell the food, feel the breeze, look into eyes, listen without comment, embrace silence. I spent hundreds of hours studying yoga therapy, anatomy and human movement, and even started learning Sanskrit and Vedic Chanting but I sometimes forgot to make time for reflection and integration...force-feeding the unattainable desire or goal to "learn" everything now.
As I consider back to normal, I cringe! I realize that I have NOT been in a slump...I have been in recovery. A deep, slow, methodical, sensational, exquisite reorganization that I could not physically or emotionally resist. The gravitational pull was real. It was unrelenting. It was—and is—BEAUTIFUL. It is a grand lesson in listening to my cells, my pulse, my intuition. As I sit here writing this, I realize that I cannot go back to normal. I cannot even conjure up the frenzy or revisit the malaise that was subliminally yet righteously so much a part of my existence.
So...we then arrive at when this is over. My hygienist, clothed in her hazmat suite, gloves, two masks and a face-shield, said matter-of-factly, "three to five years." My Feldenkrais training is apparently starting in March, and yesterday our so-called Commander-in-Chief ripped off his mask when he entered the White House, infected to the teeth with Covid. So...who knows when? In the meantime, it is my belief that the last six months have delivered scads of lessons and teachings to each one of us. We have discovered new loves, we have hiked new trails, we have snuggled up to new technology, we have reached out over cyberspace, we have created abundance with nothing and released things and pounds and habits that never served.
Ruth Bader Ginsberg once said:
"I would like to be remembered as someone who used whatever talent she had to do her work to the very best of her ability."
When this is over, that is all I want for you and me. The best of our ability. Some days our ability shines. Some days our ability sleeps. Regardless, it is a good day.
An eternal yogic principle is embedded in this newsletter: Let your prana, your life force, your vital principle, guide you and lead you to your true self. And, while you are at it, let go of the outcome. As Stephen Cope, Psychotherapist and Scholar in Residence at Kripalu so eloquently says:
"Let go of how something should turn out and allow yourself to be fully present for the action. Be open to what wants to come through in the present moment to produce, for yourself, a life of really exceptional fulfillment."
Our life is a collection of moments, each one a gem. Just because everything else is cancelled, it would be a pity to under-appreciate the things that are not cancelled: your breath, your smile, your dreams, your laughter, your garden, your music, your photos, your animals, your family, your sunsets, your heartbeat...
Thank you for reading my words.