Yoga class, late sun in the window, glowing onto my face. I’m at work, of all places, in a bright conference room with chairs pushed to the walls. The instructor’s voice is quieting now. Lying back in Savasana pose, a screen of sunlight across my lower eyelashes is more blinding than enlightening. Squinting, I see the Sycamore trunk outside is dappled with patches of color like an oil painter’s melancholy palette.
It’s an ending, he is saying, every new beginning is. Yoga is the balance of opposites, and there is no moment like this one. As this practice ends, the rest of the evening begins, he says, and think about how you will live it.
To me, it’s bigger than an evening. I’ve been told I have just three months Continue reading “After It Ends”
Back from vacation, with my brain as slow as a lime in an oceanside cerveza. Only now can I see how much my mind works overtime. Like the 405 freeway every brain lane is full, with thoughts honking and swerving to pass each other, overloading themselves to get into that carpool lane and move.
But now, clear air. Wide open country lanes are few but free, ideas fueling the engine to get things in motion.
The freedom comes NOT from multi-multi-multi-tasking, not from getting it all done so that it would be all done.
Instead: Continue reading “Breathing Still”
It’s been a stretch of formlessness creatively, waiting for change to spark. More creative input than output. After writing about and for change, it’s been good to drop the agenda and just breathe.
It could seem empty unless I close my eyes and see the change already at work, hovering over the waters.
Inhale, exhale. Continue reading “The Hovering”