I realized this morning one of my favorite things about yoga is what it teaches me about life, and how I exist. The past three years I have consciously brought so much intentionality into my days and life. Tempering conviction with love and grace continues to transform my world, internally and externally. I wrote on my calendar a week ago I’d go to yoga today. I’m real into planning and outlines. With an artist’s space to rough in the details while life unfolds. But there are SO many things we cannot plan.
Mary Oliver’s recent death has flooded my social media feed with beautiful tapestries of words from a brilliant, humble mind. One stood out to me this morning,
Tell me, what is it
you plan to do with your
one wild and precious life?
I remembered I’ve always loved this sentiment… and that these days, I don’t even know how I feel about “plans”. It reminded me of another poem… one I found half my life ago, that narrated and defined my world for over a decade…
After a while – Veronica A. Shoffstall
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…
It’s a hauntingly bittersweet poem. One of self reliance, temperance, and resolve. In many ways, these mantras carried me through my 20s. But I am not there anymore. I’ve learned what I needed from living from that place, and I am choosing a different mantra, moving forward.
The more I practice tuning into my body, heart, and inner wisdom, the more I realize how easy and graceful life yearns for us to be. I am learning I have always been enough. And I have enough. And more than ever, how gorgeously light shines into darkness. It is a beautiful space to stand within. I realize that humans, at their best, are kind and good. And what God, the Universe, or whatever greater power you give thanks and petition to wants, more than anything, is for us to be ourselves, wholly, joyfully.
This morning I showered, drank veggie juice, put on yoga clothes, and wrapped up stage one of the day’s tasks to get to yoga at 10. Then I realized, sometimes, it’s ok to release myself from commitments or plans. And that, itself, is yoga practice. I looked at the clock, made my choice, and released myself from plans in order to love myself and appreciate the moment. I heated up yesterday’s coffee, iced a gingerbread cookie with brandy butter, and returned to the day’s tasks, with a steady snowfall out the window.
I have plenty of “to-dos” on my list. I always will. But lately I’ve been teaching myself to appreciate ALL my efforts. That internally wrestling to grow, is valuable, helpful, work. That laying on the floor, letting my broken heart sob, is part of flowing towards healing. That three hours at a hole in the wall restaurant with a best friend and her mini mes is just as important as a long hike.
So I keep working through paradox and balance- plans and playful movement, holding intention and openness in the same space, breathing in, and out. Like any devout, brandy butter eating, yogi would.
gracefullybound 