A blessing

After offering an impromptu guided mediation in my meditation class at the JCC, a recently widowed woman came to me and said, "You made me hopeful." She gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, "I hope God hears you." She leaned back, took my hands and said, "I hope He hears you." And once more, "I hope God hears you." She said it three time, as if she was calling God's attention. Calling God to be aware of me, of what I said, of what I offered her. All I could do was kiss her hands. I know a blessing when I receive one; what else was I to do but thank the soft hands that offered it to me? This is my job. This is what I do for a living. Try to tell me that I am not blessed. What more can God offer me that she did not offer me in that moment? Tell me, was it not enough that her ears heard? Wasn't it enough that a hopeless woman found hope in my words? Where wasn't God in all of this? God was in my meditation, the words I spoke in the moment with the love I held in my heart, and God was in her heart, opening it to receiving, and the possibility of hoping. Where wasn't God? He/She/It heard. And spoke. And wrapped arms around me, and whispered, and kissed hands that offered a blessing.

Yoga Teachers with bellies and other impermissible things

To those who know me, it is clear that I am thin. “Too thin,” I have been told. Well, it’s been said that opinions are like noses… everyone has one.  But what is true is that when I eat a large meal, and I frequently do… you can see the expansion of my belly.  It gives my body a strange misshapen form.

 I am frequently ashamed of how much I eat.  I have always been a kind of binge eater, a great lover of feeling full to the brim. I think I eat so much so I don’t feel empty, lonely, hollow.  Well, I am ashamed, I am ashamed of eating a head of cauliflower, a head of broccoli, 2 bouquets of kale, a head of bok choy, 2 cucumbers, 2 bundles of celery, and 3 bell peppers in one sitting.  I am ashamed of my need to feel full, of my fear of feeling empty and lonely.  I am ashamed of being human and vulnerable. 

And then when I do eat so much, my belly bulges terribly. And then I can’t hide my shame. Everyone sees. And I try to cover it up with bigger shirts and cute yoga teacher scarves… but I am sure I can’t hide my brokenness. I am sure all eyes are staring at my protruding belly and judging. What can I say?  I am human.

I don’t know if I am right or wrong, I don’t know if I am whole or broken, I don’t know if I actually look as terrible as I feel I do, or if it is entirely in my mind.  What I do know is, protruding belly or no, packed full of veggies, or hollow as an empty waste bucket, I need to be loved.  I just need to be loved. However I am. 

Flowers on Hylan Blvd.

My skin wanted to feel sunshine and my legs wanted movement so I went for a walk and found myself in a flower shop, and found myself in a different world, or rather, more awake in this world. And I remembered. I remembered that beauty was free, and worth stopping for, so I stopped. I gazed at the faces of flowers and they gazed back and we adored each other and drank the sun like wine, and smiled. And I am sure I seemed drunk because I couldn't stop smiling. Even at all the scowling people, looking un-amused at price-tags and wilted petals. I wanted to lift their faces to the sun. I wanted to run and dance and sing to the yellows and purples and blues that surrounded us. I wanted to share my joy at finding beauty, here, on Hylan Blvd, in a place I pass so frequently, that I forgot to look, until I remembered, today. 

Wonder

I tell you the truth friends, I don't know. I don't know what's happening, where we are heading, why I do what I do, or how, but I know something powerful, beautiful, kind and magnificent is guiding me, and it feels too amazing to ever stop. As if I could ever stop the beating of my heart that speaks "yes, yes, yes,' or that courageous river coursing through my body that makes me softer. Universe, make me softer, so that when you meet me, you feel my willing heart and see eyes so soft they hold you like a child holds a delicate thing- with wonder and gentleness. I am a child holding a delicate thing. I want to show you. Come, see. I don't know what it is. Let's wonder at it, together.

Thank You

I so rarely know exactly what it is that I am thankful for, I just keep finding myself wanting to say "thank you," over and over. To everyone I meet, to every green, alive thing I pass, to every experience I find myself in, thank you. I wish I could tie it to my heartbeat so every beat speaks, "thank you," over and over, to everything, throughout my life, so I am sure everything feels my gratitude.

Toward Freedom

I am grateful for the shake-ups, the mess-ups, the unexpected words from unexpected people at the wrong time.   I am grateful for having the same experience and experiencing it differently. What almost broke me is air now; soft and how ever I choose to shape it.

What I am saying is, I am not the person I was then.  I am more present and more alive and safer and surer.   And I am more practiced at living.  I have practiced the experience of living and I know how Unbreakable I  am. And I have come to rest in my broken places too.

It is a joy to be reminded of how far I have come from where I have been.  All you can do is shake up emotions in me.  And I am less afraid of them now. I know the air-truth of them now- what ever I make it.

Now,  with  my firm roots on this earth I get to grow tall and sway.  I get to shimmy in the returning light and I can root deeper in the storms.

I am not afraid to feel.  I am not afraid to feel because I have felt before I knew I was feeling.   I thought the feeling was real and I had no choice   Now I know. It's air and it's sun or it's lack of sun but I am still growing and I am firm in my place.

You can't see, but my roots reach the Atlantic. There is no end to the nourishment I receive. I am free of the choices you'd make for me.  I am free to stay rooted deep in my body.

My body: The place given to me in order to experience the warm, dark, nourishing earth.  And I know now the gift of it all.

 I know the gift of the darkness is moving through the darkness.  And I know that darkness is not the absence of anything but instead the invitation to find out how brightly and endlessly we are able to Shine.