Yesterday I was seeking a theme for this weeks’ classes. Through many years of teaching and my own trial and error of what feels best in my body and embodied teaching, speaking and being, I gravitate towards figurative themes instead of literal translations. I like to let my students “do the math” if you will.
I set it up and then I can adapt and flow with it on one day into something that I am seeing and feeling and change it up the next day, but sticking with the general theme. This method works well for my creativity. I never feel constricted nor stuck in a corner. And it puts me on the very edge of discomfort. I never know what we will create together.
I wish the rest of my life were like that. But, bit by bit, I am moving into that (but that is the subject of a whole other thread threatening to hijack this one).
Connection is troublesome for me. I get distracted, in case that is not already obvious. Distracted in an energetic way. A friend of mine called it chasing “shiny new objects.” And so, instead of setting out in one direction, connecting with that thing, intention, goal, I drift, never really making connection with myself. Thereby lacking the ability to build connections – relationships – with others.
Lately it’s been different. After selling the yoga studio and then the massive world-wide shut-downs caused by Covid-19, I’ve been committing to dedicated intentional listening through yoga, meditation and a lot of reading. Through all of this and months later, I finally feel alive again. Terribly alone too.
Alive in a way that I didn’t realize I have been missing. And maybe I never really knew what this life was until now. And alone in the sense of gaining clarity to see through a lot of societal bull. Race relations, political fear-mongering, the accepted regularity of endemic addiction.
I’m excited to know so little about it all. Weird, I know. And thrilled to be making new connections like a baby learning to walk. And I am.