When I’m teaching uttanasana (forward bend) in my yoga classes, one of the instructions I often suggest is a small one that can often produce a big satisfying result: If everything else is properly aligned and your nose and knees are still miles apart, lock in your lower abs and experience the opening that takes place! Small movement, oftentimes big result. Occasionally, the knee and the nose might even eskimo kiss; such grace!
Today I spent the day with my youngest son Gareth. He’s 14 and totally sweet and feels comfortable enough in his own skin to openly express his love for his mother which, quite honestly, makes me teary even as I think about it now. We were doing our usual hanging out things, eating Beef with Broccoli and General Tso’s chicken at Cottage 2, casually sneaking bites off one another’s plates, bantering about the latest escapades in the NFL/NBA, (I doggedly try to keep up), genuinely enjoying one another’s company.
These times are awesome for me and I always cherish them as G and I do not live together full-time anymore. He’s split between me and his dad and sometimes during the school week we get to hang out much less frequently then we both wish we could. Such is one of the more bittersweet consequences of divorce.
During lunch I’m telling G about my Blog and the Big choices that I’m trying to make each day and he’s gamely hanging in there with me hoping, I think, that he won’t be included in today’s inclination, but knowing me as he does that there is really no escape.
Now, I’m not meaning to be genuinely manipulative, but as I’ve said before, the true gift of this journey is in following the heart and as mine was already wide open to G, I was pretty sure there was no way he was not going to be included.
And I was right!
Which is how, much to both of our surprises, right after lunch, we ended up at The Cross Estates; a wild and wooly collection of endless old and enormous trees, gardens upon gardens upon gardens, old houses, a brigade turret, large outdoor fireplace and, as we discovered today, old outhouse, all perched on the top of Hardscrabble Road in Bernardsville. We probably spent a total of 30 minutes roaming the place. A small amount of time really but it had such a tender result.
You see, I told G it was one of my favorite places and he, who had never been there before, declared it right at that moment to be one of his. Such a tiny genuine gesture that produced this intimate graceful connection, an opening to something new, that we now share together that is irreplaceable and out there and full of love.