Tonight a ghost named Grief visited. She came after a day of too many adulting stressors and jumbled connections. A day of intense rain and darkness and grouchiness. She arrived just when I thought the day was through, unannounced and unexpected. And I welcomed her in. "It's been too long," I said. I poured myself another cup of mint tea and sat with her on the porch in my mind. No talking, just sitting and knowing. Just being together, Grief and me. As visits go, especially in these hectic middle years of child-rearing, this one passed too quickly, but I'm grateful she came. I'll see her again.
My passion is gentle yoga because I feel it's a powerful way to inhabit the body with love. Through this practice, we learn to get out of our heads and into our hearts, and ultimately we are able to put more goodness out into the world. This is not a passive practice--on the contrary, it's quite active, engaged, committed, full, deep. We feel THIS GROUND beneath us, we feel THIS BREATH within us, and we are truly alive.