Last evening I went to a two
hour yoga workshop aimed at marking the passage of the year. It was a relief –
I had somehow frittered away the actual midnight passage being cranky at my
children who, though too young, insisted on staying up. My last bad mommy
moment of 2011.
I was amazed to look back at
the year. What do you bring with you? she asked. What do you leave behind…
What is your intention for the
New Year?
Courage.
I was amazed at the strength I
found, as I looked backward. At the wisdom. At the growth.
I noticed another thing, too.
For the second day in a row I
was in that room, filled to capacity. Two days in a row we were two inches
apart from one another. People turned away…
Yesterday was much warmer –
candle light and mantras ending in peace…
shanti, shanti, shanti…
But I missed Sweet Teacher even
more, and noticed her lessons most through her absence.
When I started going to her
class in September I hated the forced interaction with my neighbor. It felt
invasive and forced and hard.
Strange, isn’t it, how hard it
can be to acknowledge the person next to you. Don’t say Sorry when you touch
someone, she says, say Good Morning.
In the two amazing days at the
studio this weekend, neither beautiful brave teacher had us say hello to each
other. Because it is rare, isn’t it – the encouragement of connection.
Good morning.
Some amazing people have
written me this year because of this little project of mine. I have been
grateful for the warmth. It has been far more personal a thing than I have
published in years, and has forced me to let go of a lot of who I like to be in
public… Thank you for reading. It feels strange to write that – this is,
really, mostly internal ramblings of some small bit of what is going on with me one day...
But I think I bumped into you by accident
this morning.
Good morning!
3 comments:
Good morning to you, love. I needed that bump.
Good morning! I love you. Wish we could bump into each other more often.
Good morning! I love you and wish I could bump into you more often...
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