I arrive broken open. The room, familiar, unkempt, empty, a safe haven. I roll out my mat , set up the jukebox, cue up Pandora and exhale. It’s uncanny to ritualize a pre-beginning, such as it is, such as I am, suchness unraveling upon itself.
I’m thinking back to the conversation I just had with G, my youngest, so much achiness around my heart as I extoll his virtues to himself and he mimics me back regaling me with mine, so much unsaid, I feel. And yet in spite of all of it he is such an awesome person, thanking me for helping him to get into his first choice college, even though we both know it was all him.
It can be tender to love others, love oneself, feel it all and love ferociously anyway. But that’s my broken open life, the path I have chosen, the wavering world that wobbles around me is my greatest honesty maker. “Be who you are,” it whispers through the muted afternoon sunlight. “Everything that you have always been is ignited from the inside, fired up through your karuna, expressing itself in your infinite wonder and the hope that in that connection there is belonging and in belonging is an equanimity so grand that the enoughness of life transforms, inspires and surpasses all understanding, always
Dave walks in at 5:55. “Susan, this yoga thing has changed my life.” “Dave, you’re unfurling like a flower.” He smiles. Both of us broken open, we begin.