I’m sitting on a purple couch, remembering another purple couch from long ago and feel like I need to introduce my new self to my old self right away. It’s so freaky how time not only flies but also contorts and alters and sometimes even improves. Even as I’m gazing at pictures from 2014 I’m thinking to myself, somewhat superficially, “Wow, I look so much better now.”
There I am in the old yoga studio, doing my thing; adjusting Nancy in Trikonasana, working on Jean’s hips, earnestly offering up alignment options in Downward Facing Dog. And now, I’m in Minnesota, putting the final touches on a new website, nuancing language, laughing out loud with some truly lovely partners, eating Minnesota wild rice soup. The woman in 2014 would not necessarily recognize the woman of 2016, but she appreciates her, a lot.
It takes a lot of courage to begin again, especially when that moment of beginning is not necessarily evident in the now of the beginning. “Who knew?”, I think to myself. I have a lot of gratitude tonight for the sheer ferocity of amazing support that has catapulted me half way up a hill I never even thought I could climb. And as I begin to take the next step and the next and the one after that, I know that I am not alone. Yoked to the consistency of the practice, to the shimmering, tenacious Spirit that is me and to an everlasting belief that life can be lived to the fullest in the moment in spite of anything, I am quite incandescent.
Lit up, I have begun….