I’ve been working a lot harder
in order to make ends meet.
Between working and mothering
there isn’t much time or energy for anyting else.
They say all work and no play makes us dull,
but I feel so fortunate,
because I love my work.
I love teaching yoga.
I love helping my students relax and find center.
I am grateful that I get paid to help people be happier
with themselves, their bodies, their minds, their lives.
It somehow feels ok that I don’t have time
or money for a fancy vacation…
So maybe my work is my play?
At some point things will be clearer for me,
and I’ll be able to leverage my gifts, talents and abilities
to earn even more income doing what I love,
but until that time I’ll keep working hard
at this yoga teaching gig,
loving what I do,
loving the people who come to my classes,
loving that my work feels like play.
If healing were easy
everyone would be doing it
but there is no switch,
no magic wand
no quick fix.
And it doesn’t work to focus on the surface,
shining up the exterior
while the interior is full of darkness;
the light must shine everywhere.
it doesn’t work to replace one extreme
with another either.
It’s not about eradicating the darkness
so that there is only light;
we learn through contrast,
and the darkness has its place
in this great wheel of life.
Balance is the key,
and acceptance that everything changes.
If we could drop the unreasonable expectations
and open our hearts to what is alive in this moment,
we might discover that the antidote to our pain
lives within the pain itself.
Our adversity is our greatest teacher.
Today I was a student*,
and I felt so grateful
that for once
I didn’t have to prepare the lesson.
I love it when my only job
is to be open to new learning.
I think I’ll be a student
*Today was Day 1 of Nikki Myers weekend-long Y12SR training. I am so grateful to spend the next two days with other yoga teachers who are interested in learning about sustainable recovery from addiction, and who want to apply this learning to bring value to countless beings walking the path of recovery.
When I was born
my teacher taught me how to breathe.
I have spent my whole life
trying to remember that lesson.
Feeling grateful for where I am
while being clear on where I want to go;
training my mind to accept the possibilities
as they dance around the field of my awareness.
We all have greatness within us
and I’m searching for a way to bring mine forth
so that I can serve in a bigger way.
I always thought I wanted some shaman,
some medicine woman/man, a guru,
a saint, an angel, someone
who could tell me which way to go,
who could know me better than I know myself.
Then I realized
I need to choose my own direction.
I need to craft my path step by step.
There is no one way to do this,
and no one teacher who could steer me right.
Everyone in this world is my teacher,
and as I settle into a calm knowing
that it’s all unfolding perfectly,
I discover that I am the friend
I’ve been looking for.
To set down the burden
of needing to know
of needing to prove what I know
of needing the approval of others
and to stand
with childlike wonder
about this amazing life–
this is freedom.
With spaciousness like this
within my heart, within my mind
life never ceases
to surprise and delight me,
and I am so grateful.
May I set down the burden
of an expert’s mask,
and stand innocently
waiting to be taught
by whomever and whatever
will teach me.
I am excited to be learning
for the rest of my life.
Thank you life.
I’m here preparing my workshop
It’s late, nearly 12:30 am.
I can hear the inner critic say,
There you go again,
leaving everything to the last minute.
When will you learn?
When will you grow up?
It shakes its head and clucks about…
meanwhile I take a deep breath
and give myself compassion…
Compassion for the girl
who works so hard to please others,
Compassion for the teacher
who wants so much to help others,
Compassion for the artist
who wants to express her creativity,
Compassion for the tired mama
who does so much for so many
Now the compassionate one says,
Go to bed darling,
you need rest.
And I’m glad I have this practice,
glad that I can hear that voice,
the voice of compassion.