What will take away the rage, the fatigue, the sheer exhaustion? What will make all of this seem ok, so that I can get up and do this again (and again and again and again and again)? How many days like this until it won’t be like this anymore? Tonight, I feel solidarity will all single parents everywhere who just want some help, because it all feels like too much.
I fell out of the loop for a moment, caught in a swirl of perfectionism. Suddenly I remembered that it’s not about being perfect, it’s about showing up authentically in the perfection of this moment… and so I came back.
Spirit: Time to get up and meditate. Mind: Nope. I wanna sleep in. Spirit: Time to get up and meditate. Mind (whining): But I wanna just be comfyyyyyyy. Spirit: Get up and meditate. Now. Body (silently) gets up, gets dressed, goes downstairs and meditates. Takeaway: Spirit always wins, thanks to discipline.
I commit to awakening to my true self for the benefit of all beings. I see the immeasurable value in this. And I believe that my awakening is possible in this very moment, because it is the will of the Universe.
Dear God, Thank you for this day. Thank you for waking me up again. Thank you for giving me strength to make it through, even when I’m tired, sick, and all I want to do is rest. Thank you for helping me to be the most loving mom I can be to my kids, for tending to their needs joyfully, patiently, and with gratitude that I was blessed with children (even when sometimes I wish I weren’t!). Thank you for cleansing my heart of envy when I see husbands taking care of their wives with love in their eyes. Help me to embrace my loneliness, so that if it is your will one day, I might celebrate partnership again.
Up late getting ready. Big day. Big weekend. Today I taught three yoga classes. Tomorrow I’ll teach three classes, then I’ll lead a five hour training. I made eye pillows to give the participants, as well as training manuals so that they can take the information with them. I made a kale and quinoa salad for our working dinner tomorrow. All in all, it will be a twelve hour day… Sunday I’ll teach three more classes. And somehow, somehow, I am to find the time and stamina to PACK MY HOUSE BECAUSE IT’S TIME TO MOVE. I decided it’s not time to freak out. Freaking out is an old, outworn habit, and it really serves no purpose. Instead, I’m choosing presence. I’m showing up inside each moment, clear on what the moment is calling for, and doing that. When it’s time to teach, I’ll teach. When it’s time to eat, I’ll eat. When it’s time to pack, I’ll pack. When it’s time to move, I’ll move. And when it’s time to rest, I’ll rest. I am so grateful to have been brought to this simple place, where I no longer need to chastize myself for what I didn’t do sooner (that’s hopeless). In this simple place, I see what needs to be done, and I do that. There is so much peace in the present moment.
We’re born, we die, in the blink of an eye. Might as well enjoy our time here. Might as well train in creating and expressing joy so that this world is a brighter place for our having passed through here. Are you willing to take responsibility for your own experience? How could you feel empowered otherwise? Are you willing to wake up to what is truly yours and leave me to handle what is truly mine? If just a few of us did this we could create heaven on earth in no time…
Eight years. Eight years of pausing, sitting still, closing my eyes and going within. I remember well the day eight years ago, when, pregnant, feeling sick, overwhelmed by my responsibilities as wife and mother, I called out to the void I’m going crazy! I’m losing it! Help me! What should I do? And the Voice said You must meditate. And I thought, Of course. I had a regular practice before I met my husband, but (and maybe you can relate) self-care always fell to the bottom of the list when I was in a relationship with someone else. The Voice said Meditate and I remembered that this was an option, and I sat. I started small, just five minutes a session, but I quickly worked my way up to thirty minutes a day. Eight years and I haven’t missed a day. Eight years…I have shown up for myself. My ex said You meditate too much when he gave me the list of reasons he was leaving our marriage. That was two years ago, and he’s gone now, but I’m still meditating. Eight years I’ve said to myself I matter. This matters. I’m going to keep showing up. And I will, for eight more years, and eight more and eight more after that. I’ll show up every single day, rain or shine, in sickness or in health, for richer or for poorer, until death closes my body’s eyes and opens the eyes of my soul. Then, there will be no surprises, because in meditation I have seen it all.