…on the power of words

As yoga teachers, for the most part, we deliver our lessons form what we have experienced. Both physically in our body through our asana practice translating from our bones to yours on the mat as well as through sharing, through listening to our students – seeing them – and holding space for them when they need it. We teach anatomy, we teach philosophy, we teach the sutras and ahimsa. At GGY we teach from the heart.

In our Teacher Training Program we shine the flashlight, for each of our Leaders – to illuminate what we have seen in ourselves, to walk them down the path of healing, of discovering and allow them to shed, to let go, to heal. To close chapters and begin anew without the heavy hearted baggage from the past. They learn to stand powerfully, wholly, unwavering, amongst one of the most unconditional communities I know.  It’s a choice we all have, it’s right there in front of us, but sometimes we can’t see through the muck. This work, along with traditional curriculum has uncovered uninhibited voices, that speak from the heart. Their filters are clear, they can see from love – versus pain, or fear, or whatever was blocking their sun. Once you are exposed to that light, there’s no turning back. It’s a way of life, self inquiry, a process. I promise you in this type of living #themagicneverends. We are never done, never enlightened, never perfect – no matter how many a-ha moments we have. There’s always more thank God, there’s always more. This year in GGY Teacher Training – the work you all did – well it “did me’

The last several weeks, I’ve been working from home – in a sense, on my own personal healing and discovery. It’s been messy, tearful, and it’s been a huge wake up call for me and what I need in my life. I’ve stepped away from the studios, from my hobbies, rolled up my mat and just sat in it. stewed. I found solace in a very selected few, walked in circles, numbed out and just got stuck. Crazy how one can still manage to have fun in all of that, right?

I’ve heard somewhere in psychology that when you lose a spouse in any way, divorce, death, whatever – all the things they “fixed” in you, all the wounds they healed, reopen and ooze forth tenfold. Gaping holes waiting to be plugged. From this place we seek relationships that validate, overcommit to feel needed, and often find motivation in approval. It’s a dark road, it’s exhausting and typically ends with me feeling unfulfilled. I’ve fought for things that I thought would fix it, pointed fingers, assumed – or didn’t, and still I was coming up empty.

Until I saw it. Until I heard myself begging for the same thing, as I had in my lifetime before. “You are important. You are good enough. You are valued. You make a difference” Sometimes it’s as simple as that. Why can’t we see it in ourselves?

One of the biggest gifts I have ever gotten in my life, came in the unexpected form of Dean’s Eulogy. Not a surprise, Peter is a magnificent writer and spent years making sure it was right. In his own grief, he somehow found the courage to convey something Dean never could. All these years later, he assured me how much I was loved. I’ve read it over and over, trying to “get flat” with all that he said – as if that is even possible. It’s a gift bigger than flowers, more valuable than diamonds and speaks louder than a million songs. Those words will carry me forever.

Danielle LaPorte posted a video last week – a Father’s Day commercial of sorts. It came with urgency, and to me was a no brainer of a practice we should take on in all aspects of our life. Not just with our fathers, but with every single person we love. “What do you love about me? How do I make you proud?” Watch it – go ahead, try not to cry. I dare you. Then wipe away those tears, make a call, write a letter, or better yet do it in person. Use your words, for God’s sake, use your words.

I have so many thoughts on marriage and relationships, having built one for so many years. They are work, they are worth it and sometimes they are the catalyst for digging deeper to get to the root. The best ones are honest, and are trusting, and able to hold up to the surface dirt, until you can see through the muck. Funny, because they don’t really need the words – in your heart you know, yet somehow we still long to hear them.

I thank God for my people, who listen endlessly – to my talking. To my work and my working it out. I thank God for relationships that come when you need them, that don’t judge, and just let you be. For people who really know me, and no matter how many times I look for that rescue, keep me neck deep in doing the work. To the I miss you’s and the I love you’s I hear you and thank you. This life is a crazy road for sure.

In these a-ha moments I can see the light. I can begin to uncover the why behind the things that I do. I can acknowledge them, connect the dots with them and then release them from my being. I can break cycles, and share lessons, so that others can do the same. I can be the catalyst for the conversation. The reminder that gratitude unspoken is wasted and that if we all stop playing games, holding grudges, holding out and ask for what we need – use our words. Life can be so much better.

Lately my own words are coming back, all the lessons remembered. I’m beginning to feel my light once again. Life is all here in front of me, I know it and I’ll be back at it again for sure. Most poignantly today, as I am closing in quickly on this 43rd year I know this: I am important I am valued I make a difference I am a teacher and the best thing, I know I am loved.

oh love.

imageCrazy how time is flying by.

For a while there it seemed as though time was standing still.

Sitting here in the sunny spot in my kitchen  I have a photo of the girls – smack dab ahead. Often when I look into the faces of my girls  – I am boldly reminded of our wonderful life. I see their younger self, and remember them as if it were yesterday. I swear it’s nearly impossible to look at this photo of my children and not want to drive to their school right now, just to tell them how much I love every stitch of their being and then send them back into to class.

I’m like that.

I’m a lover.

I love easily, I love hard, I love completely. It’s exhausting sometimes, I know

I love out loud – no downside to that, no matter what anyone says.

It’s both my superpower and my kryptonite.

there’s first love and

passionate love, motherly love

unrequited love

loving so much it hurts – in a good way. Like it’s palpable – pretend you were shot, fall on the floor roll around kind of love.

summer love – a favorite – sun kissed, top down, tunes on.  Probably on my non-negotiable list – someone who really gets that.

transitional love – the most gentile.

toxic love

ridiculously distracting love – dangerous.

familial love – unconditional no matter how many times you fuck up, or cancel, or cry wolf in the middle of a Monday. Could be blood, or by the hands of God they are in your life. I’d be lost without these people, and completely isolated probably.

But today, June 8th I am especially reminded of married love.

Married love ebbs and flows.

It assumes what you need

It predicts

It’s exhausting at times.

Married love calls you out, but will stand by your side no matter what.

It’s comfortable

It’s fiery

It’s compromise and long late nights

It’s firm in foundation, often needing no words.

It’s parental

It’s honest – always.

It takes work, a lot of work.

It’s grateful, acknowledges without reason – if not just finally half a life later.

It’s settled. In a good way.

It dances, holds doors, carries bags, lets you enter a room first.

It holds you hair up when you need it and always stands behind you walking to communion. – funny, I know, but also non-negotiable.

It’s void of ego.

It’s every love song.

It’s the sun

and the moon

and the stars.

Today marks nineteen years from when I walked down the aisle  (was I supposed to stop counting at 17?) It was a beautiful day, although sweltering hot, but I’m a summer girl and a sucker for rose gardens.

I was 22. I had a honeymoon birthday, and we threw the exact party we wanted to throw. We were married in the Manner of Friends – Quaker Tradition, and our loved ones sent us off into “happily ever after” land with an evening of toasts, and quotes, and readings from the heart.

I didn’t have a crystal ball, I wasn’t sure it would work out, but I went forward down that path with a heart full of hope and reckless abandon. It wasn’t easy and I’m not sure who won in the end, but it was a deep, and all encompassing back pocket kind of love. I’ve shared many times there is no silver lining to losing your spouse, especially when I look at my kids, but without that Cancer, I am confident, I would never have known such love.

I’ve carried that energy forward with me, and it’s like flying first class, you can’t go back. I’t’s allowed my to listen to my heart, take care of myself, find more easeful ways and just take it in. It’s been raucous and funny, fall down and late night. It’s been quiet, and vulnerable and brave. It’s been proofreading and carpooling. It’s been dropping off lunches, watching track meets and days on the fields. It’s been Grace. Truly. It’s been Grace.

I’m not sure what the second half of my life holds, and thats a tough one for me for sure. What I do know is that I am happy, I am healthy, I am sitting in the breeze and after a weekend filled with some of my favorite people. I know that I know love.

There’s no sting today, no anguish, no tears. Just a reflection of what was, an appreciation of what is, and a big bold spirit on the rise. Inspired and confident – that if I follow my heart with the best of intentions, somehow the path will unfold.

Love big today.

Listen to your heart.

It just knows.