I remember when I was going through a messy divorce many, many, another-lifetime years ago. After the initial separation, I returned to what was once our shared home and dedicated every ounce of energy I had to the hustle. I progressed from room to room: painting, moving, fixing, anything-and-everything to change the space, to make it mine, to start over—again.
I filled every moment with busyness, but I felt lost and I felt alone. I had no idea what to do next, how to make ends meet, where to go, or how to move forward. I clearly remember standing in the office, my bare feet on the cold hardwood floor, looking out the window into the backyard, and talking on the phone with an old friend from New York.… Read the rest
The WitnessApril 4, 2021 in Blog
Cultivating the witness. It’s an integral part of the practice. On the mat and on the cushion, one of the aims of yoga is to increase our capacity to take a step away from the intensity of our immediate experience— whatever that may be— and shift to observer mode. Over time, we learn that there is always a part of us that is neutral and steady, detached from the drama of the moment and able to see clearly. While I’ve devoted years to this practice, as of late I’ve been catching myself in the swirl of the storm, outside the center of calm abiding.… Read the rest
Whether it came from my family of origin or was part of my soul’s original blueprint, I’ve spent most of my life grappling with being okay with not knowing. The fact that there is so much we don’t know, can’t possibly know, can’t plan or prepare for was just unacceptable to me for a long, long time. In my twenties, I really believed that I did, in fact, know. In my thirties, I found out that there was a whole lot missing from my field of view. By the time I got to my forties, I’d come to terms with the flow of life and her wise, yet unpredictable ways- or so I thought.… Read the rest
Waiting is the hardest part
by Jill Sockman
The waiting is the hardest part. Or so the lyrics go. And oddly enough, even though I have more song lyrics than just about anything else stored in this brain of mine, those are the only words I know.
I’m in a hallway of sorts. It’s not a hall full of doors where I need to pick one and walk through it. It’s more like a transition area of some kind.Â It’s not unpleasant, and not terribly uncomfortable.
I feel clear on where I am.
But understanding this waiting time theoretically is not at all the same as abiding peacefully with the open space on a daily basis.… Read the rest