I’ve been thinking about this thing, our blog.
I’ve been thinking about writing it weekly, the lessons, the gifts, in the writing, the lessons, the gifts in the releasing it into this, our shared world.
I’ve been thinking about you, about me.
I’ve been thinking about the gifts of sharing.
From the I-to-the-we, how everything becomes easier, lighter, maybe even possible.
Dear Folks, to you, all.
You who are faceless to my eyes; yet you who live deep inside my heart.
You who greet me in the halls of Kripalu with big, conspiratorial grins.
You who reach out to me with sweet, shy emails.
You who reach out to me proclaiming the bridges of connection between our experiences.
You who reach out to me in silence.
You who simply delete the email.
Every single one of you.
Every single one of us.
We’re in this thing, this moment, this journey together, whether we know it or not.
And that’s the good news.
This last year of my life has been filled with such transition, so many gifts, so much loss, propelling me into the most fiery, most urgent of practices of my life. I have chosen to share some of the more tender details of my transition with you (see last few blogs), because I believe in this practice.
I believe in the yoga of faith.
That’s my practice.
Not faith, like this religion or that religion.
Faith, like, I am equipped to step forward.
Faith, like, evidence-based data that tells me, I can outlive this and blossom.
Faith, like, If it’s happening, no matter how heart-wrenching, no matter how belly-shaking, no matter how terrifying it lands on and in and around our skin, it must be life giving us more life.
To become more of who we really are.
I believe that if we dare to step toward life, life will meet us.
If we dare to step toward truth, we will be supported.
If we dare to step toward parts of ourselves that we have run from, more wholeness and authenticity will emerge.
And here is the good, good news; we are in it together.
And here is the good, good news; we share it together.
In the sharing, in the bridges built between our hearts, everybody wins.
As I claim my resilience in this fantastic moment in my life, as I declare that I am finding my way, as I share it with you, everybody gets healed.
As I choose life and vitality and truth, so do you.
From the “I” to the “we.”
That is the so much of the journey.
In this time of such cultural and national split, it is imperative that we find each other, that, from the platform, the home of our-selves, we find others, to make this world the place we want to offer our children.
Nobody says this better than the poet, Naomi Shihab Nye-
This is the world I want to live in.
This can happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.
~Aruni Nan Futuronsky
yes. this. the transparency of lived truth.
inquiry for today~ for all the doors and gates and thresholds we cross- what do you leave behind?
One time, investigating in the backyard of our house in Temuco the tiny objects and minuscule beings of my world, I came upon a hole in one of the boards of the fence. I looked through the hole and saw a landscape like that behind our house, uncared for, and wild. I moved back a few steps, because I sensed vaguely that something was about to happen. All of a sudden a hand appeared- a tiny hand of a boy about my own age. By the time I came close again, the hand was gone, and in its place there was a marvelous white sheep.
The sheep’s wool was faded. Its wheels had escaped. All of this only made it more authentic. I had never seen such a wonderful sheep. I looked back through the hole, but the boy had disappeared. I went into the house and brought out a treasure of my own: a pinecone, opened, full of odor and resin, which I adored. I set it down in the same spot and went off with the sheep.
To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life. But to feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, from those unknown to us, who are watching over our sleep and solitude, over our dangers and our weaknesses- that is something still greater and more beautiful because it widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.
That exchange brought home to me for the first time a precious idea: that all of humanity is somehow together.
It won’t surprise you then that I attempted to give something resiny, earthlike, and fragrant in exchange for human brotherhood. Just as I once left the pinecone by the fence, I have since left my words on the door of so many people who were unknown to me, people in prison, or hunted, or alone.