Lex, adieu. This is the snapshot I’ll carry of you.
***
I’m in the cradle
of the in-between. I’m moving from my
home town of Lexington to Austin and exist in a space of what-was and
what-is-about-to-be. I witness what is fading and what is blooming. I bid
farewell to past, former selves and direct attention to my unfolding becoming.
The momentum of
March, the strengthening promise of a-soon-to-be spring, marks the period of my
transition. This short stretch of roaring, windy days streaked with tantalizing
sunlight teems with opportunities to beam love, express gratitude, and remedy
hurts with forgiveness, with conscious healing. I know wherever I go, I bring
myself. My joyous light, my mischievous shadow, my bursting passions and
imprinted patterns are all coming with me to Austin, the Live Music Capital of
the World. All spirited aspects of self will sing in full glory and throw their
frustrated fits as they do here in Kentucky.
My hope is to
move forward with a deeper, gentler understanding of myself and the colorful,
various manners in which I energetically interplay with the world. In the rich
psychic landscape of the in-between space, I explore and excavate lessons from
the past year and consciously work to integrate these lessons into the fabric
of my being. Here are the practices and teachings unearthed and governing the
transition forward:
In the in-between, I recharge compassion to lovingly
step back into the past to illuminate lessons.
In the blaze of
awareness, I revisit the past year, illumining my shadow self, my
disappointments, the crippled expectations, burned bridges and painful ending
of friendships. From the softened perspective of time, of knowing another
chapter awaits, I perceive these experiences as poignant, critical teachers.
They instruct me on my patterns and tendencies, proffering significant insights
to be acknowledged and incorporated to assist in creating a closer connection
to self, and thus, an enhanced and sustained mindful relationship with others,
my work, the world.
In the in-between, I practice forgiveness.
Forgiveness may not
be an essential part of everyone’s journey. And forcing forgiveness to bypass
experiencing the burn and grief of emotional pain threatens to leave a thick
residue of bitterness and resentment. For my personal practice, forgiveness is
a reclamation of my power. Forgiveness cleanses and frees me. Forgiveness recycles
both the mental and emotional energy squandered in analyzing another right back
into rich sustenance needed to move forward in clarity.
In the spirit of
forgiveness, I consider sending the text, writing the email, speaking to
rectify the tension existing between me and former friends. I do try once, only
to find in the good-intentioned trying an ensuing mess of miscommunication.
Instead, I choose to address and clear conflict in the inner realm, and let the
energy I choose to exude be one of peace. I let my thoughts – when they circle
to them – be opportunities to inwardly choose understanding and gratitude. The
ones who challenge me are my greatest teachers; they are teaching me how to be
even more myself and to stand taller in my convictions, and for that, wow.
Thank you.
In the in-between, I cultivate ease in the discomfort
of saying goodbye.
A memory of a
poorly planned goodbye pains me to this day and serves to inform me on how to
gracefully respect the ritual of goodbye. Due to a new work position, I had to
let go of a yoga class that I had taught throughout college. I deeply adored
and loved the students who attended that evening class. There was a sense of
connection and lightheartedness within the regular group that enhanced the
magic of practicing under the stars.
Younger me didn’t
allow herself to feel sad about leaving; she didn’t allow herself to be loved
by her students, stemming from the yogic principle of nonattachment perhaps,
but in truth, this mirrored a larger pattern of self-worth issues and blocking
myself from receiving joy. I couldn’t think of the appropriate time and way to
tell them that I had to stop teaching. Before class and risk the announcement
distracting them during meditation or practice? Or after savasana, after the
Namaste, when the news could dampen the energetic state cultivated on the mat?
I gave too much
concern to their response and as a result, ended up spilling the news on the
very last class. Heart breaking, I announced in a voice that stuffed down
tears, that this – or truthfully that – was my last class.
Y’all. The
collage of faces reflecting my own grief resurfaces and causes me to cringe.
Transitions, if done mindfully, can be gentle, thoughtful and smooth.
In the in-between, I honor the ritual of goodbye.
What I failed to
give to my original yoga students, who were my teachers, my supporters, my
stardust yogis, I give to my loved ones, my acquaintances, my students today: a
goodbye.
I directly tell
people that I am leaving. I don’t wish for a rushed and unacknowledged ending
of a chapter with the people and the places who have held me, loved me, shaped
me. I choose celebration. I choose an attitude of gratitude. I choose to let
myself beam love to my loved ones and I practice receiving their love.
In the in-between, I ask a poet for mindful tips on
moving away.
“Don’t look back.
The people who love you already surround you.”
The words strike
fire, igniting an instant warmth rippling ease into my being, ushering me back
to the blaze of love within. This love is the anchor and torch brightening the
in-between transitional space.
This love is the
Light healing the past, shining the way forward, and centering me in the
present, wide awake in transition.
