I’m at a fork in the road. I feel surprisingly close to turning toward a road I know well. A road I traveled for many years. During that time I woke up to many truths about people, about myself. I needed a major shift in my life. I walked to the edge, took a step, and I flew. I enjoyed my breath.
The financial security aspect; there’s that. That door is open to me. The corporate carrot. I love carrots. But I know that I don’t cross that door without significant sacrifices. (Or without…losses of such depth that I feel my spirit wither with the thought of it. So dramatic. I know.)
Sometimes the pressures of life compound to force you to make choices you rather wouldn’t even have to think about. Even, and I think especially, if you love what you do. Now. But when you are your highest commodity, when you’re not in use, not working essentially, your livelihood is at stake.
I faced many challenges over the past 8 years to walk this path. When things jive, it’s good. When they don’t, it’s not good. That’s the yin and yang of things that give us perspective. Only through contrast do we develop depth.
I perceive lots of things and connections fundamental to my survival shift. It’s upsetting und unsettling. People near me feel it. This leaning toward turning away from the path…is this my unconsciousness sabotaging me…I remind myself to stay open…let myself feel the yin and yang; divisive opposites at play. Eventually I always arrive at love’s edge. Love tops all.
I experienced such authentic highs on my journey in the most ordinary of moments. There were times I could not fathom how in the world I got to have this experience! I questioned if I deserve it. But I also saw it for what it is…fear stealing my joy…and I chose to stay open and accepted the love that got me to this moment.
I’ve been home for 60 days and found a rhythm that I missed. It takes a while to decompress from your every day life. It took some time to surrender my attachments to certain ways of being. (This won’t surprise folks who know me well. ;))
I missed my work. I love teaching yoga and enjoy my students so very much. There’s something very special in teaching and practicing alongside the same core group of yogis week after week, year in and year out. I thought of so many of you in certain situations and had moments of recognizing your spirits in an experience I had. Essentially, y’all traveled with me everywhere I went. Shortly before I left, I was gifted the most sentimental gift I ever received. My friend gave me a small, leather-bound journal and said that she can’t believe how I believe about myself that I’m invisible; that I’m essentially alone in the world. She said I can’t believe that anymore after I read the messages from my students and friends. I read that journal often during my travels, and it made my heart smile.
Thank you all for giving me the space to be vulnerable enough to receive. Thank you for the lesson. I needed to learn it desperately.
My kula, my yoga family, showed me in huge ways which place I hold in their lives. In so many unexpected ways and so many people.
I’m happy to be back in the fold of my tribe.
I’m holding the vision and trusting the process.